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macfrog · 5 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii

hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 9.2k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”

You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.

How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?

Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?

The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”

Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.

Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”

“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.

Maybe. You don’t fucking know.

“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”

“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.

And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.

If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.

“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.

“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.

“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”

Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.

“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.

The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.

You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.

A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.

“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.

“You havin’ one?”

“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”

Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”

You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”

His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”

His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”

Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.

Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.

Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”

“Why would things be weird?”

His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.

“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”

“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.

“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”

Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.

“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.

Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.

The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.

Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.

“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.

Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.

“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”

Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.

You gulp. “…If I was?”

His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?

Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.

Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.

He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.

Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.

You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.

And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.

He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.

Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.

“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”

You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”

He nods. “How long have you known?”

“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.

His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.

And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”

But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.

“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”

You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.

“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.

Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”

He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”

“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”

Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.

“V…What?”

He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.

“Vanessa?”

A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.

Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.

“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”

“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”

Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.

“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.

Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.

“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”

This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –

“Seen each other?”

“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”

“Oh.”

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.

Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.

Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.

But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.

Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.

Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”

“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”

You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.

“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.

“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”

His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”

“Joel –”

What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”

“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”

“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”

“And what about Vanessa?”

“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”

“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”

“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”

“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.

“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

“To get the timber.”

“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”

Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.

The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.

You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.

He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.

I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.

And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.

The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.

Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?

You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.

And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.

Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.

Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.

You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.

“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?

“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.

“Good job, kid. Good job.”

Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.

He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.

She –? Is – is that a good idea?

I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.

Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?

Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.

You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.

Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?

Alright.

We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.

Okay.

And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?

Joel. I said okay.

He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.

You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.

“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”

“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”

You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”

The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”

“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”

“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.

“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.

He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”

Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.

“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.

Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.

Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”

“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.

“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.

But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”

She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.

You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.

“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.

Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”

“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”

You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Neither should you.”

“Is this…totally weird for you?”

Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.

“Sorry.”

He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”

Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”

He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.

“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.

“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.

Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”

“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”

She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”

She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.

“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”

“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”

She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”

Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”

“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”

Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.

You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.

Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.

And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.

Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.

You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.

Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.

And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.

“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”

And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”

It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?

Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.

You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.

Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.

“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”

Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?

Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”

You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”

He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.

He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”

“Cut the language?”

“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”

“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”

“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”

You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”

He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.

“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.

You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.

She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”

You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.

“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.

Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”

“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.

“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.

Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.

The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.

“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”

“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.

Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”

She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”

“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”

You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.

Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”

You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.

She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.

A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.

“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”

You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.

“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”

You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.

“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”

“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.

“Yep. Perfect, too.”

She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.

And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –

And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.

You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.

Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.

The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.

And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.

Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.

He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.

“Still scared?” he whispers.

“Terrified,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.

You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.

He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.

“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.

“Huh?”

“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”

“The hell would I have to say duck for?”

Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”

“Duck?”

He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.

The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.

Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.

He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”

Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.

“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”

You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.

He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.

You don’t like the crust?

Nope.

What fuckin’ age are you?

If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.

At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –

Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.

You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.

A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.

You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.

You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.

The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.

Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –

“Baby.”

His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.

You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.

Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.

“Icantbreathe,” you pant.

Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

In – and out. In – and out again.

The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.

“Can you sit down for me?”

“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”

You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”

He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”

He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.

“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.

“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”

You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”

“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”

You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”

You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.

“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Three. Take a sip.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sip.”

You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.

He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”

Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”

But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”

“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”

“You sound like my fucking doctor.”

Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”

You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.

“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.

Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”

“Ha. Joel Jr.”

“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”

“Mhm?”

“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”

You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”

“First grade, huh? Best one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.

“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.

“What about your dad? What was he like?”

You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”

Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.

“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.

“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”

Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.

“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.

You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”

It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.

Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.

“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”

#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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shares-a-vest · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too –

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

#i have a few days i've missed and fell behind finishing so i might go back and post them later #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington angst #steddiemas #wayne munson #steddie #steddie fic #lily writes a fic #harrington family TM

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holylulusworld · 1 month

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Indecent Proposal (15)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, established Stucky, angst, implied smut, caring mobsters, pregnant reader,

Indecent Proposal (14)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

You freeze the moment your eyes land on the man interrogating you not weeks ago. Brock Rumlow stands right in front of you, eyes dropping to your middle.

“What do we have here?” He dips his head and smirks. “I see you didn’t waste time, Ms. Y/L/N. So, the rumors are true. You moved on really quickly, huh? Maybe we should investigate your boyfriend’s death again and dig a little deeper this time.”

“I told you; he wasn’t my boyfriend when he died,” you try to not sound too scared. “Scott and I parted ways on good terms. We just didn’t work out. Please just leave me alone. I have nothing to do with what happened to him.”

“I don’t believe a single word leaves your lips,” Brock sneers. “They instructed you well. You’re a damn good liar. I wondered why they are so interested in you.” He dips his head to look you up and down. “Your cunt cannot be the only reason. Do you have a connection to the mob, or…”

“Detective,” Steve steps in front of you, blocking Brock’s path. “What brings us the pleasure of your presence?” He has a dangerous glint in his eyes when he looks at Brock. “Do you need diapers or a pacifier?”

“I didn’t take you for a diaper lover,” Bucky steps behind Brock. “No kink-shaming, Detective but this is not the right store to buy you stuff. It’s for babies only.”

“What my polite husband tries to tell you,” Steve sizes Brock up, and narrows his eyes, “is that if you don’t stop harassing our wife, you will regret that you were born.”

“Is that a treat?” Brock cocks his head to glance at you standing behind Steve. “You know that I’m a cop, right?”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and straightens his back to look even taller.

“Not a treat, Detective,” he says lowly. “It’s a promise.”

“How about we call our lawyer and your boss,” Bucky nearly growls. “I bet they’d love to explain the law and your job to you again. I don’t think that harassing a woman at a store is in your job description.”

“I bet he believed Y/N was alone,” Steve curls his upper lip. “Maybe you would rather be alone with me.” His features darken, and he drops his eyes to the badge in Rumlow’s hand. “We could have so much fun.”

“Maybe he’s scared of being a bottom,” Bucky snickers behind Rumlow’s back. “He’d look good with a collar around his neck, don’t you think Stevie.”

“I’m not one of your boy toys,” Rumlow sneers. “You will pay me the needed respect. I have the right to investigate the death of Scott Lang and to interrogate his ex-girlfriend. We all know you killed him to get the girl.”

“Well in that case,” Bucky leaned closer to whisper the words, “you’re a very brave man for messing with our girl while we are in the middle of shopping for clothes for our baby.”

“Someone might call it suicidal,” Steve adds. He puffs his chest and stares Rumlow down. “We hope you have a wonderful day, Detective. Maybe we can continue our conversation another time.”

“We are terribly sorry, but there are more important things we need to take care of today,” Bucky steps closer to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders, offering protection. “If you’d please excuse us now, Detective.”

“Wait, I’m not done—” Rumlow huffs. He can only watch you; Steve and Bucky walk away. You’re trembling and breathing is harder as you are scared to hell and back.

“You need to breathe for me, doll,” Bucky whispers as he guides you toward the entrance. “We will drive home and come back later.”

“I should’ve planted a bullet to his brain right there, in the middle of the store,” Steve grits out. “How dare him to even look at our girl!”

“You called me your wife,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “But we aren’t married, and I don’t think that’s legal. I mean…you’re already married to Bucky and I’m just…”

“You are our wife,” Bucky stops you from doubting your role in your relationship. “We will have a nice ceremony. You can wear a pretty dress, all white and innocent.” He purrs and nuzzles your cheek. “Only for me to rip the dress off your body.”

“Buck,” Steve clears his throat. “We will plan a wedding later. For now, we need to take care of Y/N. And later…”

He doesn’t say more, but you assume they will do something about Brock Rumlow. You only fear their solution will be final, and get them into more trouble…

“Romanoff, leash your dog and keep him away from our girl or we will put it to sleep,” Steve spits while talking. He yells loud enough to make his husband flinch. “He talked to our girl in the middle of a store. Rumlow is out of control!”

“I’m not his mother nor do I have control over him,” Natasha bites back. “I covered your crimes for years. I’m loyal, and you know it. It’s not my fault Rumlow won’t stop sniffing around. He’s like a dog with its bone.”

“You’ve got one last chance to stop him. If not, we will take care of him,” he says, and steps closer to Natasha.

“I can’t,” she sighs and shakes her head. “It’s too much to ask for.”

“Don’t act as if you are doing us a favor. We pay you well and make sure you are safe for years,” Steve points out.

“I did you more than one favor,” she argues and points at Bucky. “How many times did I save your ungrateful asses from getting arrested?”

“All right, well, let me rephrase that, then,” Bucky says and gets his gun out. “You make sure that Rumlow stops scaring our girl, or we will take matters into our own hands. This includes letting everyone in your life know about your dirty little secrets.”

Natasha blanches. She swallows audibly, feeling like a lamb among wolves. So far, Steve and Bucky treated her like an equal, but she’s close to losing their protection and the money she got used to.

“I’ll try,” she sniffs. “Give me a few days. Maybe I can find a way to get rid of him without killing him. I only need to find his dirty little secrets.”

Bucky nods, and hands Natasha an envelope filled with money. “You have a week,” he says. “We want to continue this fruitful business relationship. Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, he won’t hurt you, or get close to you, doll,” Steve softly speaks to you while his husband tugs you into bed. “We promise to take care of him.”

“The detective working for us will help us,” Bucky hastily says. He doesn’t want to tell you that they already planned to get rid of Rumlow if Natasha doesn’t find a way to make him stop.

“He scared me, is all,” you whisper and snuggle into the pillow. “I believed he would arrest me, or you.”

“No one will part us, Y/N,” Steve says. “And no one is brave enough to try…”

Part 15.2

Tags in reblog.

#stucky x reader #stucky x you #female reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #mobster!Steve Rogers #mobster!Bucky Barnes #Indecent Proposal (15) - FIN

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 17 days

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taking what's not yours - f. castle & m. murdock

a/n: ALRIGHT ITS FINALLY DONE uhhh sorry this has no smut i was just goofing and wanted to write something cute with our two favorites and you guys seemed to really want this one so! i have no regrets actually! im gonna go take a nap now warnings: polyamorous relationships, frank has nightmares, reader is autistic, reader has an oral fixation/biting problem, nosebleeds/blood, crying, cursing, lots of cute nicknames, talks of death, some sexual comments, lots of kissing and fluff word count: 3.2k comments and feedback are always appreciated <3 summary: a week in the life of a relationship with frank castle and matt murdock, your two favorite vigilantes. pairing: frank castle x autistic!gn!reader x matt murdock now playing: taking what's not yours - tv girl "you know where to find me/and i know where to look"

Soft country music from before country music as a genre went modern and became what it is today plays from the radio Frank insists on keeping on while he cooks dinner. His flannel is tight around his chest and the sleeves are rolled up as he brings a spoon to his mouth, tasting the sauce he’s been preparing for the past few hours. He adds more pepper.

The door opens from across the apartment, and all he hears is, “Frank! Tell Matt to stop being mean to me!” You and Matt make your way through the apartment after taking off your shoes and coats, Matt loosening his tie as he follows you into the kitchen. Frank turns when you step into the kitchen, immediately moving over to him and finding your place in the crook of his arm.

“Red bein’ mean to you, honey?” Frank asks as he kisses the top of your head, grinning at Matt as he huffs, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter if it’s handsome if he’s so mean, does it?” You ask.

“No, it doesn’t,” He grins, and you stick your tongue out to Matt playfully, and he mimics you before going over to Frank and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hi.” The lawyer hums, happy to be back home with his two favorite people.

“Hi.” Frank grins, unsure of how serious you are about Matt being mean to him. “What’s going on, why are you being mean?” Matt raises an eyebrow at you, unhappy with your running to Frank.

“Can’t just run to daddy to fix your problems, pup.” He accuses, and you scoff. His words are playful, but your face is red at the call out.

“You know what, Murdock—”

“Hey! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Frank cuts in, and Matt tilts his head in your direction, and you quietly plead for Matt not to tell on you, and--

“They bit me.” Frank sighs at his words.

“I was being affectionate!” You immediately go into defense mode, ducking out of Frank’s arm, trying to casually walk off from the pair towards the fridge, only for Matt to grab your arm, pulling you between the two men, your back against Frank’s chest, face to face with Matt.

“You cannot bite people, pup.” Matt says, and you frown.

“I like biting people—”

“That’s a problem!” Frank’s words attempt to be serious, but they’re coated by a soft laugh as his hands, rough from a long day of working blue collar, rub up and down your arms.

“See? You’re getting Frank to agree with me, do you know how hard that is to do?” Matt hums, and you tilt your head.

“What? You love Frank, it’s actually kind of gross—”

“It is gross isn’t it?” Matt asks teasingly, leaning up to kiss Frank again. You roll your eyes at the fact that you’re being reprimanded by your boyfriends, sandwiched between them, forced to deal with the consequences of your actions. “But I’m being serious, okay?”

“Matty,” Your head leans back against Frank’s chest, “I don’t bite anyone who isn’t you or Frank..”

Alright, let’s level with each other—Frank and Matt are well aware of the fact that you’re neurodivergent. You get overstimulated with loud, crowded situations very easily, you struggle to understand jokes a lot, and you once told them that in middle school, you became so hyper fixated on waffles to the point where you ate them for breakfast and lunch most days, practically begging your mom to let you have it for dinner most nights (She let you have them once a month) and then, after fourteenth months, you stopped. You have not been able to eat a waffle since.

The point is the two men you’re sandwiched between are no strangers to your neurodivergence. They know it’s stimulating in the best way to chew or suck on something, your oral fixation coming back with a vengeance after you tried to repress it for so long. You chew on everything. You chew on the strands of your hoodies, you chew on your sleeves, you chew on ice, gum, you chew on your boyfriends, and you chew on your cheeks to the point where you draw blood, which always gets Matt to scold you, because he can smell the coppery blood from his place across the room, and immediately tells Frank.

Matt Murdock is a little tattletale.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Frank hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ll get you something to chew on—”

“What, like a chew toy? That’s embarrassing,” you groan, and Matt just laughs a bit, leaning in to oppress a kiss to the shoulder that Frank is not leaning on.

“Then stop biting, pup.”

You pause, contemplating the options you have. Fix your biting issue or have Matt and Frank fix it for you. Honestly, you don’t think you have the neurotypical willpower to fix this problem, so you go,

“Okay, fine. You guys have my permission to do what you want to fix it.” You huff. Frank presses a kiss to your cheek while Matt presses a kiss to the other. You feel the smirks against your skin, and you realize what’s happening before you can run, “Wait, no, I swear to god—” Matt picks up your legs with ease as Frank secures his arms around your torso, the pair beginning to carry you to the couch. You groan as they throw you onto the leather couch, landing with a huff. “You’re both awful.”

Matt leans down and bites your shoulder.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“Jokes on you, Daredevil, I’m into that—” You feel Frank sink his teeth into your arm.

“Wrong answer.” Matt responds for him.

Later that night, after dinner, you’re laying against Matt, your legs resting in Frank’s lap. You’re listening to music, and the environment is very relaxed, none of you are particularly on edge. Matt’s fingers are resting in your mouth. You relax like this a lot, just sucking his fingers gently. You’re absentmindedly just sucking on his fingers when you bite down on them—It’s not an accident, and Matt would call you out on it if you lied.

So when you bite down, not entirely consciously, he huffs, “With the biting, baby, come on,” he softly condemns, and remembering your deal, Frank gets up with a sigh, patting your leg before he got up and headed to the kitchen. You’re confused for a second before Matt’s nose twitches with recognition, so he grabs your shoulder and pulls you close, his hand finding your cheeks and squeezing your mouth so that it’s in an ‘o’ shape.

Frank approaches you with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and the rest of your features are squished by Matt’s hands. Frank scoops a big wad of peanut butter onto the spoon before sticking it in your mouth. You’re confused, as Matt’s hand leaves your face, as you begin munching on the peanut butter.

You take a while to eat the peanut butter, quietly enjoying the taste while enjoying how long you’re keeping yourself busy, since it’s taking a long time to work down the peanut butter due to how sticky it is in the roof of your mouth. When you’re done licking and enjoying the taste of the peanut butter, you look to Frank.

“What was that for?”

“Well, it kept you busy from biting, didn’t it?” He grinned. Your face is flushed as you hand him the spoon.

“Can I have some more?”

Frank chuckles and kisses you quick.

“Sure, honey.”

A few nights later, Frank sits on the couch of the apartment, the windows open wide as he listens to the howling wind outside. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, he doesn’t know. His skin is still hot, trying to relax after waking up from a nightmare. It’s always the same. Maria and his children, always dying in his arms. Always sitting at the kitchen table, always with you and Matt, always dead.

The chill that comes in from the window is enough to make him feel alive through as he quietly waits for Matt to get back. He’s in an old tee shirt and sweatpants, flicking his lighter on and off in the quiet as he tries to focus on something that isn’t the idea of the pair of you dead, dead like his wife, dead like his kids, dead dead dead—

“Frank? What are you doing up?” Matt’s soft voice echoes through the apartment, and his head tilts softly. He goes over to the couch, still in his full Daredevil suit. Frank stands up and goes over to him by the window, pulling off his cowl just to look at his face. His hand lands gently on Matt’s face, his thumb rubbing gently on the scars that surround Matt’s eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Matt catches the lie and does not call him out.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Frank’s jaw hardens, and even though Matt cannot see, he avoids his gaze. And in a moment of pure vulnerability, he wraps his arms around Matt, holding him close. Matt’s hand gently runs up and down his spine, trying to comfort him. After a few moments of quiet, he asks, “Do you want me to wake them up?” You were always better at making people feel better than Matt was—Especially Frank.

“Nah.. No point..” He says quietly. After a few more minutes of quiet, he feels another pair of arms wrap around him from behind, your chest against his back. You press soft kisses onto the back of his shoulders.

“Too late.” Matt hums. You’re wearing an old tee shirt of Frank’s, a pair of boxers you bought for yourself and a pair of Matt’s fuzzy socks. You stay there for a little while, sleepily hugging Frank, comforting him. Your eyes grow heavy, and slowly, you fall asleep against him, just for a moment. Then, Frank picks you up, and you wake up again, tired.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask him, and he just smiles down to you.

“We’re gonna go to bed while Red showers, and he’ll be right back.” He tells you, gently placing you on the bed. You yawn as Frank crawls into bed, and you find yourself on top of him, your legs tangled with his. You listen to Matt shower and fall asleep waiting for him to come join you.

He comes back out with his hair wet, in just his sweatpants. He tucks himself into bed, his arms around Frank, as you sprawl out on top of them, desperately needing to be close to both. Frank is nowhere near tired. Matt knows that, and just gently kisses his hair and the back of his neck.

“You need sleep.”

“You ain’t the boss of me, red.” He grumbles, and you hush them harshly, causing them to both laugh a little bit. Matt slowly falls asleep, trying to stay awake to comfort Frank, but he’s spent his entire night beating the shit out of goons and criminals, so he’s absolutely spent. Frank tilts his head and presses another kiss to his lips. “Go to bed, I’ll be okay.” Matt wants to protest but he just buries his face in the crook of his neck.

Frank’s hands gently trail your torso a bit. His hands are rough and sort of cold, but they just explore your back as he attempts to find sleep. It’s a fruitless venture, but he doesn’t mind. He’s okay with just listening to the pair of you breathing.

“Are you two wearing my flannels?” Frank has about seven flannels, and he has four in the wash and one that has a tear waiting to be fixed, so he’s looking for his spare two when he finds you painting Matt’s nails on the floor of the apartment. You’re painting Matt’s nails a nice shade of dark red, with little hearts in a lighter pink.

That had taken a lot of convincing, really, but once you had agreed not to bite him all day, he reluctantly agrees to let you paint his nails, desperately wanting to be good at something and be focused on one thing for more than twenty minutes.

Periodically, Matt’s foot will tap against your back, reminding you to adjust your posture as you work on your masterpiece. He just got done with a big court case, so he tells you he’ll maintain your artwork for at least a few days. But yeah, you two are most definitely wearing Frank’s last two flannels.

“They’re comfy,” You defend, focusing on your work. Matt’s foot taps against your tailbone to remind you to straighten your back.

Really, Frank doesn’t mind. But he enjoys fucking with the two of you, so he just smirks and sits behind the pair of you. ‘

“But they’re my clothes—”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you left them out, Frank.” Matt smirks, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

“Besides, look how good Matt looks in your clothes!” You hum, leaning over to nudge him gently, a grin on your face. You finish up Matt’s nails, capping up the nail polish as Matt begins gently blowing in his nails to get them to dry faster. Then, you wipe your nose, thinking it’s running, and when you pull away, you see a swipe of blood on Frank’s warm flannel. Oh, fuck.

With his slightly wet nails, Matt’s movements are not nearly as quick as he would have liked as he smells the blood before the gushing really starts, ripping off a paper towel and quickly holding it under your nose, and you take it from him to hold it there as he stands up, going to get something softer like a tissue or toilet paper to pack your nose—

You hold the paper towel to your nose, and guilt already starts to eat at you, as hot tears fill your eyes and then you feel silly because you think Frank might think you’re overreacting, but you just find his hands on your shoulders as he says,

“Hey, hey, why are we crying?” And you feel even sillier.

“I ruined your flannel.”

Frank had been covered in blood more times than he could count, as has Matt—their bodies are riddled with scars, head to toe, bullet and stab wounds echoing over the rough skin of both men, mostly faded now, but Frank is no stranger to blood—It doesn’t even bother him anymore, and Matt can’t see anyways, so what does he care about the sight of blood?

But you, who cannot kill the bugs that find their ways into your apartment, who gasps and covers their mouth when you accidentally curse in church (Matt always laughs, the dick), who orders the same lunch every day and has been unable to drink anything that wasn’t ice water, are horrified at a swipe of blood on a stolen flannel.

“Oh, no, honey, you didn’t ruin anything,” He shakes his head, and gently tugs at the flannel that hangs on your arms, “Come on, let me get this off,” The Punisher’s voice is gentle, a type of gentle reserved just for you, one that the countless skeletons in his closet, all with a bullet in their skulls, do not know and could not possibly perceive. You allow him to slip the flannel off, as Matt comes back with a rolled-up tissue, before sitting in front of you, kneeling as if he’s at mass—

“Lean your head forward for me,” he asks, his hand on the side of your head, and you do, taking the paper towel away, just for Matt to gently push that bundled up piece of tissue into your nose, to get it to stop bleeding.

Your boys, they are experts at getting things to stop bleeding.

At least Matt’s nails look really nice.

Frank throws the flannel in the wash, along with the rest of your laundry, and you find yourself sandwiched between them, the perfect amount of squeezing happening on either side of you, the same affect a weighted blanket would have on you. Your hot tears roll still, quietly betraying you, as the pads of Frank’s rough fingers come up to wipe them away, and Matt’s thumb finds it’s place sitting between your lips.

You sit like this for a while—Frank pressed up against you, Matt in his flannel and you, gushing blood from your nose, packed tight with tissues, and Matt’s thumb as your favorite stim toy.

A few days later, you’re just decompressing from work—Your bones ache, and you’re waiting for Matt to get home, wanting to satisfy that oral fixation, as if it’s the worst craving you’ve ever had. Sensing your restlessness, Frank puts a small package in front of you. You raise your eyebrow, and look at him, skeptical.

“Is it a bomb?” He scoffs and chuckles a bit.

“Open the damn package.” His voice is laced with the smirk that sits on his face, not mad, not upset, not at all judging. Your fingers peel back the packaging, and when you’re done unwrapping, you’re left with a soft necklace, and a blue, rubber moon. You look to him curiously. “It’s uh,” he leans down so his forearms are keeping him up against the counter. “You chew on it. You’re not gonna stop bitin’ or sucking on stuff, so, you might as well bite something that isn’t human.” He tells you.

In truth, Frank had spent all damn day scrolling on your laptop, looking for the perfect fix to your problem, and grew frustrated when he realized that all the stim toys were marketed towards young boys who had the privilege of getting a diagnosis young (living with and loving two people with disabilities, as well as having horrible PTSD, has radicalized Frank Castle).

You grin when you hear his explanation, getting up and going to him, resting your hands on his shoulders before leaning up and kissing him softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Honey.”

From across the apartment, you hear the door open, and a voice calls out,

“Are you guys cheating on me? You know I can hear you across the apartment, right?” Matt’s voice calls out, and you laugh, as Frank just smiles.

“Yes, I can, Red,” He says back, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep as you spot Matt, laying across the couch, looking like a god damn renaissance painting. He’s so hot. You find yourself walking over to him, dropping your new necklace on the coffee table, as you climb on top of him, finding yourself literally acting like a blanket, burying your face in his neck as his hand comes up to, like usual, let you gently suck on his fingers.

Frank rolls his eyes when he sees the pair of you cuddling, and just shakes his head when he sees the stim toy abandoned on the table. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of the pair of you, Matt just in his briefs, and you in your entire pajama ensemble.

The apartment is full of a gentle silence, as Frank watches the pair of you sleep, quietly thankful that he kept living.

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manyfandomsonelog · 9 months

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I’m going crazy thinking about the way Phoenix treats Apollo being motivated by Phoenix seeing himself in him. Like. The reason Phoenix got disbarred was because he was too naive/trusting, and by the time he meets Apollo he’s had to live with the consequences of being too trusting for years, and it’s made him bitter and paranoid and fundamentally Different than who he was when he was an attorney. And he meets Apollo, a brand new lawyer who looks up to Phoenix so much and Phoenix takes one look at him and goes oh no, this kid is exactly like I was. And not only is Apollo just like him but he’s also already making the same mistake Phoenix did in trusting the exact same guy that led to Phoenix’s disbarment, which makes Phoenix panic and he’s like I have got to disillusion him immediately before he ends up like me. The way that basically the first big lesson Phoenix teaches Apollo is “don’t trust anyone, especially not me”. And like he’s distant and cryptic and he uses Apollo for his own goals because he’s fucking projecting on this kid so hard and he’s teaching him the hard lesson that Phoenix feels like he should’ve had. Later on I think Phoenix probably regrets the way he treated Apollo, but I think he’d have a lot of trouble admitting it, because on some level admitting he was too hard on Apollo means admitting that he was too hard on himself, too.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #going fuckingCRAZYINSANE #ace attorney #phoenix wright #fascinated by their dynamic #aa4 #beanix #apollo justice

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oreotoreads · 2 years

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DIRTY LITTLE SECRET ♡

pairing: lawyer!jay x lawyer!reader. fem!reader.

WC: 15+k!

genre: rivals to lovers / fwb to lovers, forbidden relationship, smut, crack, fluff, romance, angst if you squint (everything you would find in a rom-com don’t ask me please🥹)

synopsis: you and your rival during your college years end up starting in the same law firm which has strict dating rules. when your boss wants you to work together for a case, you get to know each other better.

warnings: smut, protected sex, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), hand job, fingering, sexual attraction, teasing, slight edging, rough sex, slight violence (men fight), ex! sunghoon (only mentioned) ,heeseung is evil, jake, chaewon(le sserafim) and ryujin(itzy) as colleagues. jackson wang as ceo (lol) (pls feel free to warn me if it needs more!)

a/n: AHH FINALLY FINISHED! hello everyone and say hi to my first fic ever on tumblr. i hope you all like it and please send your feedbacks because it motivates me and makes me so happy. i hope you won’t regret spending your time on it. thank you!

When you finished law school, you already had hundreds of job offers and calls. You graduated with an honorable degree and with the impressive internships you did throughout your education, you managed to catch the eyes of the best law firms but ended up signing with the one you wanted the most.

Your parents were so proud, your friends were so proud of you, they were all there to celebrate you graduating. you worked your ass off to finish this school and now you felt it paying off when you hold your diploma in your hands, excitedly shaking it in the air as you run to your friends.

“I made it!!!”

All your girlfriends screamed with you as they hugged you, tears of happiness were forming in your eyes. You almost thought this day would never arrive.

“Y/n!” A voice you hated so much through these 5 years filled up your ears. But this time it didn’t bother you that much.

“Jay.” You turned around on your heels, holding your diploma in your hand in a weird way to show it off to him, the side of your mouth curling upwards as you stared at his eyes.

“I wanted to congratulate you for being first in our class.” He smirked. You raised your eyebrows getting confused by his politeness.

“And congratulations for coming second, Jay.” You scanned his diploma and his clenched fist around it, even though he was smiling to your face. If they asked you which feelings were better between graduating Harvard Law and beating Jay Park, you would think about it. That's how competitive you were with him and you knew he felt the same about you.

“Let’s hug.” He leaned down before letting you speak or in other words protest as he held you from your waist and pulled to himself, resting his cheek next to yours, smelling his after shave and light perfume.

“Enjoy being first in your university life because I will never let you feel that way in your business life.”

You froze in his hold. His annoying giggle echoed in your ears like he was the villian from a movie. What the fuck did he mean by that? You were never going to see his face again after this day anyways.

He stepped back before his mother appeared next to him, shaking hands with your mom as well, it was the first time they physically met. Even though Jay and you were never friends, each other’s name never left your mouth whenever you were back in your hometown. Jay only talked about how he got higher notes than you and you only talked about how the teacher liked your essays more than his. Your poor mothers thought you were friends or even lovers at some point since you only talked about each other to your parents at every dinner. You also hated how your mom loved Jay so much, and weirdly his mom also liked you a lot.

It was weird their kids hated each other’s guts.

“Y/n! I can't believe you guys are colleagues now!” His mother squeaked, as she pulled you in a tight hug, squeezing your shoulders afterwards.

You forced a laugh. “Aha, Mrs. Park, yes we are both attorneys now, how nice, right?” You raised one eyebrow, wishing for her to confirm your words. You wished she meant being colleagues as doing the same job until you are 50 something and did NOT mean working in the same law firm as Jay.

Instead, she laughed loudly.

“My Jay got the position at WANG, just like you did!”

The information you heard was so sudden, you choked on your own saliva, your mother worriedly slapped your back.

You finally managed to get your breathing again. “I beg your pardon?”

Instead of his mom, Jay decided to break the news to you. “Sorry to break it to you, y/n but you were not Mr. Wang's favorite intern at all. He hired me 15 days after you left and he immediately offered me the same position as yours.”

You closed your eyes, trying to process everything you just heard.

“Wait, wait, wait. so, you're telling me, we will be working together in the same law firm?”

Jay smiled with his pearl white teeth in the fakest way possible. “Exactly.”

At the end, Jackson Wang saw two incredibly talented lawyers in the making and he couldn’t choose only one of them.

So he decided to get both.

It was 16 months later after graduating, both of you had your positions in the firm and you were both very successful.

That's why your boss gave you two tables next to each other, so you can work together and brainstorm cases.

Jay and you were always fighting and bickering, he was driving you crazy. Working with Jay was hell. The only thing making this a better experience was he really was a good lawyer. He was stupid but he was good at his job.

“Can you please focus and stop staring at Ryujin?” You pinched his forearm and he squeaked.

“I am definitely not staring at her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you are undressing her with your eyes, those two are different things.”

Jay gathered his hands around his chest and made a pout. “Oh my god, y/n, are you jealous that your partner is staring at some intern instead of you?”

You squinted, giving him a deadly stare. You swear to god only if he wasn’t helpful in cases you would have already got him kicked out of the firm somehow.

“In your dreams.” You rolled your eyes.

You knew Jay liked her, but it was impossible for him to date her anyways. Your boss Mr. Wang had strict dating rules. He wanted everyone to focus on their work and he truly was a supporter of that you can’t separate work and love. Since you started working here, two lawyers decided to marry and Mr. Wang kindly asked them to resign just so he wouldn’t fire them after their happy announcement.

“I am already cock blocked by Jackson, anyways.” Jay whined and you shushed him.

“Jay, stop calling him by his name oh my god. Where is your manners?” You whisper shouted.

“I left all my manners at Harvard, darling.” He got up and shuffled your hair and you kicked him on his ankle and made him stumble as he walked towards the restroom.

This was exactly why Jackson Wang hired you both as partners.

You hated each other’s guts and he knew you two would never ever ever date or even like each other.

Jay and you were partners but the rivalry between you two was in the talks of the whole firm. Interns loved watching you bicker and try suggesting a different idea everytime the other came up with a different and better one. On every meeting, you fighted, usually because Jay teasing you for something stupid.

Jackson Wang made you a team, just so there wouldn’t be so much chaos in the firm. He literally read forums about you and Jay from your fellow Harvard graduates.

-one time i was at the library and these two started shouting out of nowhere, don’t go there if ur trying to memorize med terms :/

-jay will be first of course. jay why didn’t you call me back after the night we had? :(

-y’all i would watch this rivalry if they documented it on netflix, ngl.

-i was trying to study and i heard a girl scream, when i looked out of the window i saw she was kicking the pavement out of frustration… turns out it was y/n and she was frustrated cause she got A- and Jay got A+.

-y/n and jay should fuck each other on our graduation day we all deserve it.

You were famous before you graduated, and Jackson loved the fame you brought to his firm, making others left in shock as he got you both.

After Jay came back, you tried to work for a little while before Mr. Wang called both of you to his office. He was young, the firm was his father’s legacy actually and after graduating law school he became the ceo. Everyone loved him so much but he had his own little weird habits let’s say.

You knocked on his door and Jay was standing beside you. after hearing him say “Come in.” You opened his door.

“You wanted to see us, Mr. Wang.”

“Ah, yes, yes. take a seat please. Wait or don’t. It will be quick.”

You and Jay eyed each other in curiosity.

“There is this friend of mine, uhm to be honest, my ex-girlfriend. She is filing a divorce and she called me.”

You pressed your lips to each other to hold your laugh. For some reason your boss talking about his ex to his employees felt awkward. Jackson continued.

“He apparently cheated but she doesn’t have any proof we can show in the court so you know what to do.” He rolled his eyes as if it was nothing. You and Jay have been having divorce cases left and right since you started in the firm.

You sighed, seeing all the files on top of each other beautifully sitting on Jackson's desk, waiting for Jay and you to go through.

“She really must have loved you if she is making her ex file her divorce, right boss?” Jay asked with a stupid smile on his face and then winced in pain when you pinched his thigh.

Jackson just stared at Jay and didn’t even bother to answer his question.

“We will work on it all night, have a nice evening mr. wang.” You bowed your way out pulling Jay from the collar of his blazer as you dragged him out of Jackson’s room.

“Didn’t know you wanted to get fired so badly.” You rolled your eyes and started walking without waiting for him, you heard his footsteps following you to the elevator.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, darling.”

You decided to invite Jay over (for the first time ever in 16 months) since you had to work the whole night. You knew Jackson had his full trust on you two and Jay was also aware of it, so you were sure he would just professionally work and leave.

You cleaned your house and prepared some snacks and you checked your fridge if you had some wine.

Since you graduated, you were single as a pringle. You had a boyfriend in 2nd year of college, his name was Sunghoon and he was studying software engineering back then. It lasted for a while but then your classes got heavier and you decided to give your all to your studies so you broke up.

And since then you only had some coffee dates through college and nothing since you started working at wang.

It’s why now you were at your house, getting nervous at a man entering your household. Even if it was only jay. someone that is obviously you would never date.

You went to your room and put on some biker shorts and an oversized graphic t-shirt. You put your hair up in a messy bun and added some flavored lip gloss that you enjoy wearing.

You put all the files on your coffee table and prepared your macbook with necessary tabs open and decided to wait for Jay as you sat on your sofa. as you sat down, you realized how tense your neck was, you were literally struggling to keep your head up. Your work was stressful and definitely not easy. looking through hundreds of folders every day was incredibly tiring for your body. And now you have to do this with jay.

You heard the door and stood up before unintentionally checking your face on your mirror in the hallway.

When you opened the door, you saw something you didn’t expect at all.

It was pouring rain outside and Jay was soaked. Of course he wasn’t carrying an umbrella, you were the one who covered him whenever you went to meet clients and it started pouring rain. Since you were tired, you didn’t even realize when it started raining.

“Oh my god.” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside in a swift move, jay stumbled towards you and your chests bumped before he stumbled back. “I told you maybe a thousand times to carry an umbrella.” you rolled your eyes to grab some paper towel from your kitchen, meanwhile curious Jay kicked his boots over and followed you inside.

Your place was nicely decorated, it was minimalistic and had warm beige tones mainly. Jay scanned your kitchen when you were busy tearing apart paper towels.

“Nice place, I expected something horrendous from you.” He commented, leaning himself to the little island in the middle of your kitchen.

You sent him a death stare before you approached him with the paper towel.

“You look like a wet rat in my kitchen for the first time and this is what you say?” You rolled your eyes and touched his shirt to see how badly soaked it was.

“Were you trying to make a romantic music video or something in the rain? How did you get this wet?” You shook your head in disbelief as you tried to dry him down.

“Ouch. A wet rat is a little bit mean.” Jay pouted and got the tissues from your hand to dry himself.

“This is not gonna work, I need to give you some clothes.” You dragged him to your bedroom this time. surprisingly jay didn’t complain, maybe he was just used to being dragged by you anywhere you go.

You opened the door of your bedroom and went straight to your closet, looking for your brother’s and Sunghoon’s old stuff that you still had.

You managed to find some basketball shorts and a black t-shirt that would suit Jay.

“Here.” you handed him the clothes.

Jay scanned the clothes, especially the basketball shorts and gave you a questioning look. You huffed.

“They were Sunghoon’s.” you blurbed out. Jay made an oh sound. He knew Sunghoon from college, you were all in the same friend group once. He never understood how you managed to date an engineering dude in second grade.

“That is why they seemed familiar.” He said and his hands went to his belt to unbuckle it.

You stood there for a while to process what was happening in your bedroom, Jay Park was about to get naked and he didn’t even ask you to get the fuck out before he do that.

You closed your eyes and turned your back to him and let out a scream. “Why are you undressing in front of me?!”

“Why are you acting like you have never seen a male’s body before?” He snapped back, you heard his wet jeans dropping to the floor behind you, followed by his shirt finding its place in his pants.

“Thank God my underwear is safe.” He mumbled, almost talking to himself and you scratched your eye to distract your mind from twisting his words and making yourself snort.

“Are you done?” You put your hands on your waist, expecting an answer from him.

“Yeah.”

You turned around, seeing Jay with the basketball shorts and his hair looking wet and messy so it made you smile. He actually kind of looked cute.

“I will give you a towel to dry your hair.” You stormed out of your bedroom, leaving him in your bedroom alone. Curious cat Jay's eyes started scanning the environment he was in again. Your bed sheets were dark emerald green and he saw the strap of your nightgown sneaking under your pillow. He walked up near your head side of the bed and hooked his finger on the strap, sliding it to himself to check it out. You had a simple satin black night dress you always wore. Jay puckered his lips as he nodded his head in a confirming way. At least you weren’t wearing grandma pjs.

He quickly tucked your nightwear back when he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Here.” You handed him a black towel. “Be quick, it’s already 10pm.” You squinted, trying to look intimidating to him before you walked out of your room, you heard jay’s following you and the ruffling noises of his hair.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, almost in a shy way and handed you the dampened towel. You bit down the inside of your cheek before you scanned his face and took the towel from his hands.

“It's fine.” You shrugged and threw the towel in the laundry basket. “Go to the living room, I have everything ready there. I’ll bring some wine.” You said and pointed to the living room area with your eyes to get him moving.

Jay sighed as his body hit your couch, ruffling his hair with his fingers and relaxing his muscles. Running in the rain was tiring and definitely not romantic to him.

You sat down next to him and placed his glass of wine on the table. You didn’t make any eye contact as you directly went in for the files and he did the same, your hands touching each other’s like it was a stupid rom com movie.

“You can get that one.” He cleared his throat and went for another file, hoping the moment was not weird. You awkwardly smiled as you started reading it.

After working for some time with Jay and sipping wine as you do, you almost choked on it when you saw something you didn’t expect.

“Oh god, Mr. Wang and Mrs. Kim broke up because of the firm’s rules. Dating was not approved.”

Jay continued the story.

“And she married the CEO instead of Jackson?!”

You slapped your mouth in shock.

“This is why!” Now you understood why Jackson had a different view of dating in the firm.

“My man’s got heartbroken.” Jay mumbled, sipping his wine in a melancholic way.

“I am sorry you won’t be able to make a move on Ryujin.” you showed his shoulder to tease him. Jay rolled his eyes.

“I don’t like her. She is just hot, that’s it.” He shrugged. Since Jay was just a man, you found that fair. He cleared his throat and smirked.

“I am sorry for Heeseung though, he is whipped for you.”

Your eyeballs almost came out of their places at the new information Jay threw at you. “Heeseung?!” You chirped.

“Mhm” Jay mumbled as he was scanning the file in his hand. “I heard him talking to Jake in the restroom, he said he was jealous of me because I get to be with you all the time while he is stuck with Jake.”

You were overwhelmed at how Jay effortlessly started spilling. You side-eyed his wine and saw his empty glass. You smiled.

“Poor Jake.” you pouted, Heeseung’s words might have hurted him you thought. Jay nodded and rested his back on the couch.

“Do you think you are lucky, Jay?” you looked under your eyelashes, looking as innocent as possible. You were one hundred percent sure Jay was a light drinker, even in college years and you totally forgot about it when you handed him the wine.

Jay’s eyelids fluttered as he stared at you. “I am the unluckiest man on earth.”

“Shut up.”

“Would you rather Heeseung over me?” He asked this time, his hand went to his glass and he realized it was empty. “Do you have more wine, by the way?” He asked.

You got the bottle that was standing on your side of the coffee table and poured more for Jay and yourself.

“I’d rather you of course.” You said expressionlessly. “You are a pain in the ass but we make a good team.”

“We are actually an amazing team.” He smiled.

Jay couldn’t believe he was able to talk to you so casually, in your house late at night. College Jay would not believe this happening. College Jay, never looked at you as someone who is likable. Now as he was staring at you in the dim light and laptop screen lights, he realized how pretty your eyes looked when you smiled, how your upper lip was in a beautiful heart shape and perfectly plump. He gulped loudly.

You dropped the files to the desk and turned your body to Jay and rested your elbow on the head rest, your face leaned into your palm.

“What?” he asked, a smirk appeared on his face.

“I am bored.” You shrugged.

Jay let out a chuckle. “Nice joke, y/n.”

“No I am serious, we worked enough for today.” You really were bored and the case wasn’t that big of a deal, it can be easily finished tomorrow at work. Being with Jay like this awoke unknown feelings inside of you and you wanted to enjoy it more.

“C’mon.” You whispered, leaning into him and taking the files from his hands and putting them on the table. This was the second time your hands touched and goosebumps rose on your skin. What the fuck was happening to you?

“Okay.” he mirrored you and started talking about normal life things as you listened to him carefully.

“I feel like I am tipsy.” You giggled and checked the time. “Oh my god, Jay. It’s 3am.”

“Is it?” He chuckled and let out a sigh. “Time flies with you.” He threw himself on the couch, his back was laid, he turned his head to look at you. You were sitting on your side, your legs crossed under you. Jay’s eyes were a little red from lack of sleep and wine.

When your eyes met, he laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” You asked, examining his lips and teeth as he laughed.

“Just remembered how we hate each other a lot.”

You slapped his bare arm. “I still hate you, this night is an exception.” You told him as you tilted your head.

“So we don’t hate each other tonight?” He asked, his breath fanned your lips as he talked. You scooted closer to him. When your hand met with his tilted neck, a shiver went down his spine.

“No we don’t.” Your fingers stroked his skin, going up to the little hairs on the nape of his neck.

Your faces were only inches above now, Jay’s scent enveloped you.

“Do you wanna break some rules while we are at it?” He asked, your noses brushed when he talked. You let out a big sigh. You just couldn’t believe you were in this position with a man after almost 3 years and it was Jay.

The guy you hated the most.

“I don’t wanna do something we might regret.” You whispered against his lips, feeling concerned. But you wanted this so much and Jay could tell.

“I don’t think I will ever regret having you for once.” He gripped your chin with his fingers and connected his lips to yours. You immediately tilted your head to allow him more access to your mouth. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you as his arm snaked around your waist and scooted you closer to his side. Jay’s lips were so soft and careful against yours, you didn’t think he had a side to him like this.

His hands lowered down to your hips slowly before he broke the kiss.

“Do you want me?” He abruptly asked.

“I don’t know if this is just wine or I am losing my mind but I want you, Jay.” you stared at his eyes. You couldn’t believe those words just spilled from your mouth.

“How did we end up like this?” He laughed, leaning in to peck your lips again. Instead of replying, you straddled him, wrapping your arms behind his neck. He stared up at you like he was mesmerized. It has been so long since he had a woman sitting on his lap like that.

“Less talking, more kissing tonight, okay?” You kissed him, now with the intention to taste his kiss and get the feeling of him more. Your body craved the urge to explore Jay, you doubted if you carried these feelings all these years or was it something new.

Jay’s hands sneaked under your shirt, his fingers caressing your skin when your lips dropped to his jaw to leave open mouthed kisses.

“Let’s go to your room.” He mumbled, dropping his head to the back and giving you more access as you sucked on his soft skin. You hummed against him, getting out of his lap and giving him your hand.

Jay chuckled as he grabbed it and let you drag him like you always did but to your bedroom this time.

For him to fuck you.

You giggled when you felt him hugging you from behind leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulder. When you reached your bedroom, you turned around in his arms to kiss him again. Jay lifted you up by grabbing you from your thighs and dropped you to the bed, trying to be gentle as much as possible. He got rid of the shirt you gave him so quickly, giving you only a few seconds to breathe before he smashed his lips against yours.

You felt his chest and abs under your palms, feeling the bumps and ridges of his deliciously soft and tanned skin.

He slid your t-shirt up towards your ribcage, exposing your skin to his eyes. You looked so fucking breathtaking as you laid under him. He stroked the sides of your body before he pressed kisses all over your delicate skin. His fingers came in contact with your biker shorts.

“Can I?” He asked for permission, you frantically nodded, making him laugh at your excitement.

He pulled them down, leaving you in your lacy black underwear. Jay’s lips kissed every inch that was newly exposed to him, he kissed your thighs and his fingers were hooked under the elastic of your panties, playing with them slyly.

You let out a moan when he kissed your clothed core. Jay was satisfied to hear you moan for the first time tonight, actually the first time in his whole life. The woman who taught him what real competition is was now moaning under him.

Getting rid of your shirt, you exposed your upper body as well, leaving you only with panties. Outline of Jay’s dick was pretty visible and all you wanted now was to feel his big cock stretching you out.

You palmed his crotch just to see if your eyes were mistaken when a guttural moan left Jay’s lips. Jay was hard and big, it made you squeeze your thighs together but you couldn’t because his head was between them again, he rubbed his cheek inside of your legs.

“Mhmm.” he let out a satisfied moan as he felt your arousal against his lips over your panties.

“Jay, please.” You whimpered in frustration. “Take them off and let me feel your lips.”

“You want my mouth on your pretty cunt, huh?” He responded, biting the inside of your thigh. Jay was very straight forward and you were shocked when you didn’t see any glimpse of shyness on his face. His eyes sparkled with lust and hunger instead, as he stared up at you.

He took your words as his command either way and slid your panties down to your ankles, seeing the wet patch formed in the middle. He licked his lips at the sight, your pussy looking perfect for him to devour.

“What a pretty cunt.” He complimented, bringing his index finger around your clenching hole to see how wet you were. When the tip of his finger easily sunken inside you, he brought his other finger, spreading your wetness all over your pussy as natural lubricant.

“I wonder if you’ll be able to take me.” He tsked, still toying with your cunt as he rubbed his fingers up and down through your folds. Your breath hitched on your throat when you started hearing the wet sounds coming from his fingers. It was so dirty and erotic.

“I wanna take all of you.” You whimpered loudly, your fingers pulling on his hair.

“Good girl.” He inserted his two fingers after he already saw you dripping down to your sheets, making wet patches on the expensive looking material.

You took his fingers well, biting down your lower lip to suppress your moans. He curled them up like he had a map of your cunt, making contact with your g-spot deliciously.

He fingered you for a while, turning you into a moaning mess before he grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, leaning back down to your core to lick a bold stripe through your folds.

“Oh my god.” You screamed, pulling on his hair with your whole life, your hole clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit like it was candy.

“God, y/n. You taste so fucking good.” He hummed against your hole, sending vibrations all over your body. You were seconds away from cumming.

When you saw Jay also rubbing his cock on your sheets, painfully hard in his jeans and trying to get a friction, you realized how close he was just from fingering and eating you out.

“I want you Jay.” You whimpered, impatiently pulling him to yourself as you grabbed him from his face, kissing him again. Jay shamelessly showed his tongue down your throat, making you taste yourself mixed with his own juices. You reached down to pull his shorts over his ass, feeling the curve between his butt and his waist. His ass was perfect and you thought how amazing it would feel to push him deeper inside of you from his hips and he thrusted in you frantically.

Jay pulled his underwear down as well, kicking the shorts and the boxers from his legs as he struggled a little but he managed to do it.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked out of breath, kissing the valley of your breasts as his one hand played with your nipple, pinching and rolling it on his palm.

You reached out to your bedside drawer, Jay’s lips automatically falling down to your ribcage, peppering kisses all over your tummy. Being a whimpering mess, you managed to grab a condom, wishing it hadn't expired.

He towered you before getting the condom from your hands, ripping it with his teeth in a hurry, he just wanted to be inside you right now. You curiously studied his cock, as he gave it a few sloppy strokes to, spreading his precum over the length to begin with. Then he carefully slid down the condom on his cock, he palmed himself from his base as he guided himself over your cunt, collecting your juices all over the condom.

When his tip rubbed against your clit, you whined, showing him how eager you were to take his dick. Jay smirked as he kept rubbing himself against you, enjoying the feeling of this new type of intimacy.

“Jay!!!” You whined once again loudly, if he kept doing this you would cum without even getting to feel him inside. He pressed his against your entrance hovered above your body as he had to push his dick into your tight hole. You tried to open your legs further for him to go deeper but everytime he moved, you clenched so hard and whimpered.

“So fucking tight.” He grunted, looking down between your bodies and seeing his cock halfway in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling in him and kissing his jaw. “It’s okay, I am not in pain.” You assured him, wanting him to be balls deep inside because for fuck’s sake you had enough.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He said in concern, moving his hips forward a bit more, eliciting a moan from you. He sighed in pleasure as he felt your heat enveloping him even more.

Jay was kissing down your neck when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist, making Jay bottom you out in one move. The way he moaned so loudly against your skin made you clench again, you felt so fucking full.

“Fuck!” He cried out, the way your walls wrapped him so beautifully was driving him insane.

You whined his name, pulling him closer to your body and hugging around his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face to see your expression. It has been so many fucking years since you last had sex, but you didn’t want to tell this to him and boost his ego. He already understood anyway, you thought.

“Hmm.” You hummed, as you hugged him close, not letting him move as you waited for the slight burn to subdue completely. Meanwhile Jay gave you some kisses to make you feel comfortable, seeing you in this state looking so pretty and vulnerable switched something inside of him, he wanted to take care of you the whole night.

“Tell me when to move.” He kissed your temple as he patiently waited. It was your fault being so eager and ending up hurting yourself but he wasn’t surprised. Your eagerness was also present at work.

“Move, Jay… please.” You cried out, literal tears forming on your eyes from the immense pleasure of feeling so full. His cock felt like it was the perfect match for your needy cunt.

When Jay started moving, your eyes literally rolled back to your head. His pelvis was perfectly grazing over your clit, creating the most amazing sensation and made you squeeze him as he started slow with grinding motions.

His nose bumped against your before he gave you a soft chaste kiss on the lips, which made your heart beat so fast. His lips dropped to your jaw, then your neck and then up again to your earlobe, biting it gently.

“You feel amazing.” He whispered to your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your back arched.

You didn’t know how you made him feel but you were sure you were on cloud nine. Jay was so fucking good, he was everything you needed all these years and you hated the fact that he was right in front of you.

After a while, Jay was easily going in and out your pussy, he was pulling out to his tip before he plunged himself back fully into you. The filthy whimpers he left with every move made you go crazy, wrapping your legs tighter around him to feel more friction. You wrapped around him like velvet and he thought he was in heaven.

“Can I go faster?” He mumbled against your neck, you only nodded, feeling unable to answer him in words. Jay patted your thigh, as he buried his face in your neck completely. His hands grabbed your as with his pretty hands to hold you in place before he started a quicker rhythm.

Your moan cracked in your throat and your hands gripped your bed sheets, he was fucking you fast and deep, it felt euphoric. You just wanted him to fuck you every fucking day.

That’s when you had your idea.

“Jay…” You whimpered. “So close.” Your eyes shut with pleasure. Jay’s cock was feeling your spasming walls and it pushed him to his release way faster.

“Me too, darling.” He stopped sucking your neck to look at your disheveled face which he decided was extremely hot.

“Let go with me, let’s cum together. My God you feel so good y/n.” He grunted as he quickened his pace even more to make you both cum.

You cried out as your back arched and held onto Jay’s shoulders, having the best orgasm in your life. Ever.

Jay filled the condom inside of you, your walls milked him until there was nothing left for him to release, he cummed a lot, he couldn’t ignore the idea of you cumming inside of you loads and watching it spill from

your slit.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, regulating your breath as Jay laid on top of you, trying to get his back. If he stood up right now he would fall on top of you.

You played with his hair, massaging his scalp as he stayed inside of you for a while, a silence taking over the place of your moans and the sound of sex. For some reason, Jay felt peaceful, his skin was warm and pretty, it gave you a comfort that you craved for so long.

You wanted him to sleep next to you.

He scanned your room with his eyes to spot the bin, before he got up to discard the condom he placed a kiss on your jaw, you felt yourself blushing for the act. (like he wasn’t balls deep inside few seconds ago)

You watched him slip inside of his boxers quickly and without a word he came back to bed and laid down next to you, watching your ceiling.

Both of you felt the awkwardness and the sudden change of your rivalry turning to friendship and then it ending up in bed, things escalated so fast for you to process.

You spoke up like you read his mind.

“Let’s talk about this in the morning, okay?” You asked, turning your body towards him to stare at his side. Jay was built deliciously and carved by gods you almost swore at how you never fucked him once in college.

“Mhm.” He hummed, pulling your sheets over himself. He lifted the side for you to come in.

You quickly cuddled into him, as he covered your bodies. You hugged his waist and put your chin on his chest, feeling peaceful than ever.

“Can we keep loving each other until tomorrow?” He asked suddenly, making you look up at his glossy eyes from the tiredness. His words made you smile softly. You nodded, your hand finding the side of his cheek as his found yours, pulling each other in a kiss like magnets.

You fell asleep to Jay’s lips kissing you gently.

“Wake up, Park.”

You slapped the piece of paper against Jay’s sleeping face as he laid in your bed. You were already dressed up, you opened your windows to let the smell of sex disappear and spending exactly 45 minutes on the hickey on your neck to cover it up, thanks to him.

But, the most important thing you did was what was on top of Jay’s face.

“Good morning to you, too.” He rolled his eyes as he stood up, making you suck your lower lip to the sight in front of you. You were already dressed up in your pants and blazer, he realized you had showered and was smelling of your expensive perfume that he always secretly admired.

“If you agree with all the clauses I listed down in the contract please sign it.” You put your hands on your waist, staring up at his face because he was taller.

Jay was dumbfounded as he sat down back on your bed, flipping the paper to read it out loud.

“Friends with Benefits'' contract.” he furrowed his brows and looked up at you. “Seriously?”

You sighed. “Please just read.”

Jay huffed, looking at the first line. “Whenever one of the other person wants sex, they have the right to call the business partner in order to satisfy their needs.”

“Hmmm.” Jay hummed, laying down completely on your bed and lifting his arms up to keep reading the paper. You crawled next to him and straddled his thighs.

“Physical contact whenever someone craves it is also okay.” He continued then looked at your fingers toying with his waistband. “Like now?” He smirked.

You slapped his tummy. “Just continue, Park.”

Jay squinted to read the other line. “No other sex partners. Or any partner that will contain the use of body fluids.”

“I’m a little hypochondriac.” You scratched your neck, reasoning him.

“So this means as long as this contract is present, I’ll only get to kiss you and no one else?” He made it clear out loud for you to confirm.

You proudly nodded your head, making Jay let out a cute giggle.

He got serious again when he saw the sentence that was written in bold and red.

“Dating each other and falling in love is forbidden and the other has the right to terminate the contract if it happens.”

Jay cleared his throat, staring at your clothed figure sitting on top of him. You decided to talk. “We will keep this a secret of course, no one can now.” you mumbled silently and looked at him with keen eyes as you anticipated an answer.

“Give me a pen.”

A month already flew by with the agreement you did with Jay and everything was simply amazing. You had frustrated from work sex, I want to feel something sex or simply I am bored so I am here to fuck you sex. Well you couldn’t complain at all, fucking Jay was one of a kind and surprisingly both of your sex drives was as high as Mount Everest.

You found yourself biting your lip as Jay bent down a little to show Chaewon what she couldn’t do on the computer. You licked your lips at the view of Jay’s ass in his tight work pants and his tiny little waist inside of his designer belt.

“Yeah, just like that.” he assured her, giving her a smile before he walked up to his desk next to you, of course he caught you staring shamelessly.

“Something on my butt?” He pouted, trying to look behind his back. You sent him a deadly stare.

“Probably your brain.” You smiled at him annoyingly.

He was about to say something when Ryujin stepped inside. “Good morning, everyone.”

You unintentionally turned to look at Jay, to see his reaction to seeing her. She was pretty, she was younger and she really was Jay’s type. When you saw Jay smiling at her softly, you had a pain in your stomach, and uneasiness took all over your body.

“My internship is ending in 15 days so I wanted to tell you all that. I will be working at a different firm.”

Jake came up to her, “So you won’t be a part of WANG in 15 days?”He asked, and she pouted, nodding her head.

Now, you were scared to look at Jay, there won’t be any blocks between his work crush and him in the matter of 15 days. He was going to terminate your contract and make a move on Ryujin and then marry her after 3 years and have kids.

“Y/n!!” Someone yelled. “My God, are you deaf?” Jay waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped out of your own thoughts suddenly. “Hm?”

“Client is waiting for us in the lobby.” He explained, and stood before your chair as you gathered all the things you needed from your desk. “Okay let’s go.” You got up, started following Jay to the elevators. You got in after him and watched him press floor 2 instead of L.

You furrowed your brows. “I thought we were going to meet the client?”

“I lied.” He nonchalantly said as he stretched his neck to the back and then to both sides. You licked your lips.

“Sounds like you found a safe spot.”

He puckered his lips. “Oh, yeah.”

When your back hit the cabinet behind, you made a surprised sound. Jay’s lips literally attacked yours, your teeth clicking sometimes from how hard he was kissing you.

He brought you to the archive, after he found out the guy who stood here goes to lunch around these hours and there were no cameras in the room.

“Now it’s the time that you can touch my butt.” Jay breathed into your mouth making you laugh.

“Did you bring me all the way down here so I can touch your butt?” You talked between kisses, his fingers unbuttoning your shirt to expose your lacy black bra.

“Mhm, my favorite set.” Jay ducked down to suck on the skin that was showing over the material. As he was busy down there, you quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers down, grabbing his ass and pulling his crotch to yours.

He moaned at the feeling of your hands touching his ass and his clothed cock making contact with your clothed core.

“Fuck, that felt good.” He chuckled into your neck.

“It’s unfair you have a better ass than mine.” You pouted as your nails scratched the nape of his neck.

“We can go to the gym together, darling. Y’know, bonding time.” He winked at you, making your eyes roll in a funny way. To be honest, sweaty gym sex didn’t sound bad you might consider going to gym with him.

You kind of felt relaxed that after the news Ryujin dropped, Jay was still thinking about you and wanted to be with you. But you knew you had to talk about this matter with him later.

Right now, you just wanted to make him feel good.

You put your hand inside of his underwear and grabbed his hardened member as you started stroking him, his precum was already leaking from his tip so it was about time.

You twisted your wrist as you pumped his dick, to get all of him.

Both of you were startled when your phone rang out of nowhere. You kept your hand on his dick while the other went to your pocket, grabbing your phone.

“Shit, it’s the client. They must be here.” You whined as you stared at Jay’s hazy eyes from pleasure. You just couldn’t leave him with blue balls like that.

You got down on your knees in seconds, taking his cock in your mouth and swallowing around him, giving him the fastest blow job you can ever.

Jay closed his mouth with one hand to muffle his moans while the other held on to your hair with his dear life, to keep you in place and guide you on his cock. You took him down your throat and breathed through your nose before you started bobbing your head, your fingers caressing his thigh.

Jay’s dick twitched in your mouth, his precum on your taste buds when you looked up at him, catching him looking down at you, his one hand still covering his mouth.

A throaty moan left his mouth, when you licked the vein underside of his dick.

You pumped his dick in your hand fast to get the job done even quicker and put your mouth back in, so he won’t make a mess in the archive. He searched your face for permission and you nodded.

“So close. So close! So CLOS—” Jay didn't get to complete his sentence before you felt the hot ropes of his cum shooting down your throat. He slowly let his hand down on his face, breathing loudly and freely after the overwhelming high he just had.

“I’ve never cummed this fast in my whole life.”

You got up and as you were doing it, you pulled his pants up to his waist and buckled his belt. “Write it on your records list then.” You smirked and wiped your mouth with the side of your hand as you stared at his eyes, making him blink a few times and gulp loudly. Without a word you grabbed your files and phone from the floor and started walking towards the exit, until you realized Jay was still standing there.

“Jay!” You shouted. “We are already late, c’mon.”

He shook his head to the sides to get his senses back to himself and mouthed a ‘wow!’ before running after you.

Jackson assigned 4 attorneys (including you and Jay) along with Heeseung and Jake and two interns, Chaewon and Ryujin to attend a conference in a different city. He said you and Jay will make nice contacts there and the others might learn something new.

Of course Jay’s first thought was going on a trip with you but he kept forgetting the fact that you were keeping this secret and also, you weren’t his girlfriend. He get to kiss you and fuck you but he was never going to get to call you his girlfriend.

Jay was craving a relationship for a long time now and had to accept this, he did like you. He wasn’t sure if it was just his sexual relationship he had with you or was he actually developing some feelings for you.

On the other hand, Ryujin really seemed interested in him and he used to like her, but now he was confused. He could have chosen to be with her and solve all his problems but he didn’t want to lose what he had with you.

He didn’t want to lose you at all.

On the plane, the seats were taken randomly so you were seated next to Heeseung, which Jay confessed that he was interested in you and for his chance, Ryujin was sitting next to him.

He couldn’t find anything to talk about with her. He remembered the first night you and him had sex, how the conversation just flowed effortlessly. Ryujin was talking to him about stuff she was interested in and the music she listened to but Jay couldn’t relate. He decided he lost his interest for her over these few months and he had only one woman in his dreams.

Meanwhile, seated next to Heeseung, he was making you laugh a lot, he was naturally funny. He told you about his funny moments he had with Jake in the firm and some hilarious gossip he heard about Jackson. You were now sure Jay wasn’t lying when he said Heeseung was into you. Being an attorney came with some gifts that you earn with experience over time. The way Heeseung leaned into you, made eye contact as he spoke about something and stared directly to your lips when you talked made it clear for you. His body language was speaking to you.

You acted like you were stretching to check out what Jay was up to and saw him listening to some bullshit Ryujin was telling. He tried to seem interested or you wanted to believe that he was uninterested as she showed some pictures from her camera roll to him.

You froze when your eyes met, it tickled your stomach catching his pretty eyes looking at you. He faintly smiled at you before turning his attention back

to Ryujin, who kept showing pictures to him.

Jay was jealous that you were laughing at everything Heeseung said, but he was unaware of your feelings that were matching his.

You also only had him in your mind.

When you checked into your hotels it was already midnight, so everyone went to their rooms to sleep. In the elevator Heeseung asked what your room number is which made Jay’s blood boil, why the fuck he needed that information.

He stormed out of the elevator, obviously jealous, side eyeing you as you unlocked your door, Heeseung wishing you a goodnight, opening his own door as well.

You and Jay were in single rooms and Heeseung and Jake and the girls were in two seperate rooms.

Once you got in your room, you immediately got naked to hop in the shower and take a looong one since flying always tired you a lot. As the hot water caressed your skin, you were thinking about Jay and being worried about Ryujin and him going out to have some drinks. Uneasy feeling took over your body as you were shampooing your hair.

Meanwhile Jay in his room, changed into comfortable clothes, stared at the ceiling, with a frown on his face. He was visualizing the way he would burn the contract in front of your face after you fuck Heeseung.

What if you invite Heeseung to your room instead of him? What if you fall in love with him and leave the firm to be with him and leave Jay all alone there?

He put his pillow on his face and screamed into it.

Since there were no messages or calls from you, he tried to sleep.

After your one hour long shower, you opened your suitcase and found your baby blue pj set. You gathered yourself in lotion and light perfume before you picked up your phone and laid on your bed.

No texts from Jay.

‘Was he with Ryujin?’ was your first thought, sending shivers down your spine. You felt like you needed to text him.

You opened your chat with him, which consisted of messages of ‘are you coming’s? and ‘i’m on my ways’.

—“do you wanna come over to my room? 🤧” you typed and hit send.

You bit your lip as you tapped your phone screen with your nails, getting impatient. You just wanted Jay next to you since the day you fucked for the first time. It was like his pheromones were just a magnet to yours and you couldn’t get enough of him.

Now you wanted him to ruin the shower you took for an hour.

But now, you were feeling sad, thinking if he feels the same way. Were you being a crazy bitch and had the urge to lick him all over when it felt the same as masturbating to him.

No feelings and just using each other to satisfy your needs was what you had in your agreement after all.

You wanted to unsent. Your overthinking was getting over you, thinking if you were being too needy.

Thank god your cloud of thoughts were interrupted when you heard knocks on your hotel door. You got up, side eyed yourself in the mirror quickly, your baby blue silk pj set looking so cute and sexy. Your hair is silky smooth resting on your shoulders and you made sure you smelled like cozy notes of vanilla for extra spice.

“Hi Ja—”

You couldn’t finish your greeting when Jay's both hands cupped your face in a forceful way, smashing his lips to yours and kicking your room door with the back of his boot. The muffled sounds came from your mouths as he pushed you to the wall and caged your body. Your hands immediately went under his simple black t-shirt, feeling the slight lines of his abs.

“I thought you were getting laid with Heeseung.” He confessed, kissing your jaw and then biting down your neck to make you feel his frustration. You were shocked with what he said and couldn’t reason it, was this because you sat next to him on the plane?

“Why would I fuck Heeseung, we signed an agreement…”

You grabbed the top of Jay’s silky black hair in an aggressive way, making his hazy eyes stare at you. He was so lost at your sudden movement and the dumbfounded expression was on his face when your eyes met.

“Are YOU fucking someone behind me?” You fired your question, your face came closer to his out of frustration and your noses bumped to each other.

Jay swore he had butterflies in his stomach. You were so cute when you looked at him like that, thinking you were looking intimidating but you looked like a little angry kitten to him. He couldn’t help himself and leaned down, bumped your noses together in the softest way before kissing the tip of it. The way you gulped was so loud, it was embarrassing.

“I am loyal to our agreement as well.” He said, putting his hand on the wall to lean to you. You looked down feeling ashamed now, it sounded so desperate like you were jealous of him. You weren’t jealous of him… You just didn’t want stds, or lose this connection you have with him when he moves on and falls in love with some other girl. You were obviously feeling intimidated since Ryujin announced she was leaving the firm.

“Why are you not making a move on Ryujin?” You suddenly asked, still looking down. “You know… if you want to ask her out, we can end this.” You pointed between your chests.

Your suggestion made him chuckle and gave him a relief after he understood you were obviously jealous, just like he was of Heeseung. He didn’t give a damn fuck about Ryujin when you stand in front of him in your baby blue set, and your eyes looking up at him worriedly.

To Jay, your body, your scent, the way your fingers touch him, the way your tongue feels on his body, the way your walls wrap around him everytime he fucks you was all he could think 24/7.

“Fuck Ryujin, and fuck Heeseung.” he sighed. “I only care about us.”

Us... What did ‘us’ mean? Two work friends, (formerly hated each other) fucking each other whenever they have a chance? What an amazing bond, you thought.

You’ve come to a realization that you knew every detail of Jay's body but you didn’t even know his favorite color. You knew what position he liked the most, but you didn’t know anything about his childhood.

You didn’t want to fixate on the word us.

Jay and you dating was impossible. As long as you worked at WANG, best thing you could do was having sex like this. A relationship was not in the books for you two.

You have to keep Jay your dirty little secret, forever.

“Jay…” you sighed, pulling him to your lips from the nape of his neck. “I need you.”

Jay smiled to himself as he grabbed you from under your thighs and lifted you up. “I was waiting for you to say that.”

You giggled into his mouth as he never broke the kiss and put you down onto your bed. He leaned over your body, the craving is finally being satisfied. you wrapped your legs around his waist even tighter as he held your face between his hands.

“Tell me what you want, I am at your service.”

“I just want your cock, no foreplay.” Your hands went to his jeans to unbuckle his belt quickly. you were getting eager every second. Jay kicked down his jeans from his legs and threw them to the floor, before he leaned back he also got rid of his top in a swift way. You supported yourself on your elbows as you traced his v line.

“No foreplay? Are you sure?” He asked, playing with the strap of your pj top.

You pulled his face to yours to start making out again. “Some more kissing-uhm.” Jay's lips felt so soft on yours, sucking on them and even biting them was pure ecstasy. His arm wasn’t supporting himself, he was basically laying on top of you as you kissed, your fingertips trailed down his back until they came to the elastics of his underwear.

With one strong move you pushed Jay away and rolled over to get on top of him, not losing any time before you started sucking on his neck. He was letting out heavenly moans, you thought you might cum to the sinful noises he was making. your tongue pressed flat on his neck before you suck on it and then gave kitten licks all the way to his jaw.

You took off your top in a slow motion for him, your boobs bouncing as the material hit them. You swore you felt Jay's cock stirring under your thigh. then you stand on your knees, pulling your shorts down erotically, letting out moans as you did so.

“God, y/n. What are you doing to me?”

Jay's fingers pinched your nipples as you got rid of all the clothing you have, straddling him bare. He loved your body, he loved every bit of you, every detail of you was perfect to him.

You rubbed your cunt against his clothed dick, both of you letting out a loud moan. He was so painfully hard, the friction you felt was amazing.

“Jay, can I cum like this?” You asked, giving him puppy eyes. “Can I use you like this, Jay?”

Jay was losing his mind. He wanted you to use him, spend him. Oh god, only if you knew how fucking heavenly you looked on top of him as you rubbed your cunt against him, asking to cum like that.

“Fuck.” he rolled his eyes as you frantically started to rub yourself on him, when you gave him your hands to hold, Jay intertwined your fingers before kissing the side of your hand. His underwear was getting tight on his crotch now and he felt he was going to make a mess in seconds if you kept doing this.

Jay felt the knot in his stomach getting loose, he had to do something, he couldn’t just cum in his pants when he let you grind on him like that. He couldn’t believe he was going to cum before you.

“Sit on my face.” He commanded. “or sit on my dick for fuck’s sake, I am so close.”

You chuckled at his desperation. Although you would enjoy watching him cum in his underwear and make a mess, it was way too early and you wanted to feel him more.

“It's okay Jay.” you smiled as you tugged down his boxers to his knees. His boner slipped out of his boxers the moment you pulled them down, your mouth watered at the sight.

“Oh Jay…” you moaned. “Fuck, you look so fucking good right now.” You complimented him. You took his length in your hand and stroked him slowly as you spread his pre cum all over him. “Be a good boy and tell me where I can find a condom.”

“My back pocket—ah. fuck. my jeans.” He spoke out, having trouble breathing at this point. You gave a kiss to his lower stomach which made him shiver and his cock throb.

“Wait for me.”

You quickly got out of bed to look on the floor for Jay's jeans. As you tried to find a foil packet quickly you felt your fingers shaking. He was making you feel nervous and you couldn’t help it.

Jay supported himself on his elbow as his other hand lazily stroked himself up and down and he watched you find the condom packet. “There.” You whispered to yourself and immediately put your knee on the bed to go back to your needy colleague. You slapped Jay's hand with one hand as the other brought the packet to your teeth, professionally tearing it apart.

Jay's heart dropped as he watched you spitting the piece of foil to the floor. It was somehow nasty and unexpected from you. He realized himself blinking at you and salivating.

You carefully put the condom on Jay, making him hiss. The way your delicate fingers runned up and down as a little tease, made him impatiently slap his thigh now. “C’mon darling, don’t make me wait.”

You followed his order as you aligned him with your dripping cunt and easily sunk down until your clit touched his pubic one. Both of you let out a moan of satisfaction in harmony.

“So tight, so wet… you are so fucking amazing.” Jay's eyes rolled back. At first your hips started with grinding motions, feeling his outline hitting every spot inside your walls and his tip already pushing up your g spot.

“I don’t think I will ever get used to how big you are, fuck.” You huffed. You wanted to bounce on his cock, go crazy and wild on him but you knew you would end up bruising your insides. And if you walk funny tomorrow, everyone would understand what happened the previous night.

You pressed your forehead to his as you kept swaying your hips, finding a nice rhythm that both of you enjoy.

“Believe me I would like to ride you better, but we have a conference tomorrow to attend.”

Jay's hands guided your hips, “Being inside of you is more than enough, darling.” He searched up your face to see if you could answer him. When he realized you were focused on grinding and kissing his temple he continued.

“I will fuck you slowly and passionately like this, if that’s what my girl wants.”

Your hips stopped moving. His girl??? What was he saying to you? Was he aware or was he just playing along to set the mood? Were you really his girl like, as his friend you could still be his girl, right? Did he mean it romantically? Was Jay falling for you?

“What's wrong?” Jay pouted against your lips. You shook your head like it was nothing. You didn’t want him to feel that you were overthinking.

“Sorry, just a cramp.” You mumbled before you got back to your slow rhythm you set earlier. Jay hummed as he kissed you again. your tits were rubbing up and down his upper body as you fucked. This felt so good, so intimate.

This felt like a sex that couples in love would have. Jay's hands were running all over your body, his lips were kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck and forehead basically anywhere he can reach from the position he is at. your hands were tangled up in his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging on his hair as you were getting closer to your high every second.

Jay felt you clenching down on him, the way you felt like velvet even with the condom, he could have only imagined how your tightness would feel bare. Every bit of your skin was touching each other except the part that was covered with the stupid piece of plastic he hated the most.

He imagined about how he would fuck you if you were his girlfriend, he would tell that he loves you right at this moment, when his girlfriend is breathless from the amount of kisses and her thighs sore from riding him for so long.

He decided to fuck you all night. because why not? It was everything to him having you on top and seeing you trying to get off on his dick in slow motion, it made him sleepy and calm. The pleasure mounting on his lower abdomen sometimes halted, which he loved, the more he was inside of you, the happier he felt.

“Do you wanna cum?”

Jay nodded his head to the sides. “No.”

You bit down on his sharp jawline before you left little soothing kisses on the area. “No?” You asked in curiosity, you expected him to say otherwise.

“You feel so good, I don't want this to end.” He pouted. His face made you let out a giggle. You pinched his cheek and nodded.

“Okay, but change positions? My thighs are kind of hurting.” you said as you pushed his sweaty pieces of hair out of his forehead. Jay nodded and made both of you lay on your sides, facing each other, keeping your bodies connected.

You pressed your chest to his again and threw your leg over his hip, he slid even deeper and with the emotion of pain painting your face Jay kissed your forehead.

He was balls deep inside of you now.

“Feeling good?”

You nodded your head as you held onto Jay's shoulders, Jay held your ass in the meantime to make it easier to move.

Your bodies naturally find their rhythm again. It felt so good, so natural. His beautiful sparkling eyes as they stared at yours, his lips parted slightly to let out sinful moans for you to hear. his cheeks had a rosy tint from the heat, and his scent was raised around you, wrapping you in some form of safety and comfort.

Were you really falling for him? Why were you having such intimate sex with your fuck buddy and staring at his eyes like you were fucking your husband on your first night.

A wave of thoughts took over you and the control of your body. You got scared of your feelings, you knew what was happening to you and if you kept on doing this, you would be so lost and confused after.

The way you flipped Jay on his back again was so sudden, his almost closing eyes snapped open to your action. His head hit the bed harshly before you put your hands down on his abs, as you frantically started to bounce on his dick. You let your head fall down from the pain and pleasure mixing in your body.

You knew Jay was surprised so you blurbed out. “I changed my mind.”

When he looked down at the point where you bodies connected his eyes rolled, you were fucking yourself hard on him, his heart felt like it could stop. He didn’t want you to hurt yourself, he loved fucking you both ways whether it was hardcore or soft.

“What about the conference tomorrow?” He breathed out between moans, he swore he was just two seconds away from cumming.

“I don't care.”

Walking funny and fucking up the conference was okay. You knew you could recover from it.

But falling in love with your co-worker that you can never be together with? That you refused to do. That you were so scared of but knew was inevitable.

On your way home, you and Jay were seated next to each other on the plane. the conference went well, thankfully you weren’t limping or anything after what happened the night before. Now you were sleepy and again, Jay being next to you enveloped you with an indescribable comfort.

You glanced at him, his eyes were closed as his cheek rested on his palm.

Your heart’s beating was irregular these days whenever you looked at him, he was making you feel some type of way that you’ve never experienced before.

Your connection was something rare. Was it worth risking your job though?

After checking out everyone and seeing they are asleep, you sneaked your hand to his lap to hold his free hand.

He mumbled as his eyes were still closed. “Someone might see.”

“Everyone's asleep.” You assured him. Jay smiled and squeezed your hand in his. “Gimme a kiss then.”

You snorted and bumped your shoulder to his. “That, I can't do.” Jay pouted at your words. When he pouted like that, you couldn’t hold yourself and pulled him into a chaste kiss from the side of his neck.

His lips closed on yours, they always felt so soft. Your lips stayed pressed into each other for a few seconds, as your eyes were closed, enjoying each other’s presence out in public for the first time.

It felt so fucking good, you both felt the butterflies in your stomach.

Jay broke the kiss, his eyes scanned the seats around you to see if everyone’s still sleeping before leaning in and kissing you one more time.

You licked your lips in a satisfied way, making him chuckle.

There was a silence as you stared at each other lovingly with a stupid smile plastered on both of your faces.

Just by looking at each other’s eyes, you swore you telepathically communicated.

You both knew your connection wasn’t just sex and there were feelings involved and you needed to make a decision about it when you get back home.

After landing safely, you messaged Jay instead of talking to him, because you felt Heeseung's eyes on you. The last thing you wanted was to find others that you had some sort of relationship with Jay.

—“take a different taxi and come to my place?🥺”

You were sitting on your suitcase as you all waited for a drive and you shifted when you heard Jay's giggle, then the typing sounds coming from his phone.

—“already missing my cute little butt?🥺”

You bite the inside of your cheek as a wave of embarrassment washed over your body. You quickly started typing back.

—“no, we need to talk. but yes, i also missed your cute little butt. 😒”

Jay smiled.

—“i'll be there, darling.”

Your heart flipped inside your chest, seeing your nickname on the screen. You caught him staring at you when you met his gaze, smiling as you put your phone to your bag.

“This is our ride guys, we are all going in the same direction!” Jake yelled, pointing at the girls as they all got in the car.

You felt Heeseung sneaking up behind your back, and gently tapping your arm. “I can give you a ride if you want y/n.”

You kindly smiled. “I already called a cab— oh it’s here!” you showed the taxi parking in front of the gate.

“Oh okay, then. see you at the office tomorrow.” he waved at you as you got in. You spotted Jay through your windows. He only winked at you before you saw him getting on the other cab that stopped behind yours.

After you got home, you changed into something comfortable quickly since Jay was only 2 minutes away from you. When your doorbell rang, you found a Jay

Park leaned against your door frame, looking as boyfriend as ever.

“Hi.” You beamed at him, tilting your head at the sight. You gave him your hands for him to come inside before you pulled him in a hug.

Jay sighed at the warmth of your body hugging him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, you stayed like that for a while before you took his hand and dragged him to your living room.

“So, I wanted to talk with you.” You started. Jay looked at you curiously but kind of guessing what were you going to say. He already knew how he felt.

You cleared your throat. “I feel things that I am not supposed to feel when I am with you, and it scares me.” You confessed, looking at your lap and playing with your fingers.

“I love my job but I also…” The words almost spilled from your mouth before you stopped yourself.

“You can’t decide between your job and me.” He said.

It sounded so cruel when he worded like that, you saw the pain in his eyes. You wish there was a way out of this without hurting each other or risking your careers.

“If you want to leave and date someone, it is okay.” You said, wishing deeply from your heart that he would say no. What would you do if he stands up and leaves you there like that? How were you supposed to be next to someone you are deeply in love with when they were in love with someone else. Even the thought of Jay touching someone made you feel devastated.

“I am terminating my contract.” He stared at you with glossy eyes. It felt like someone squeezed your heart inside your chest, the pain you felt was indescribable.

When a tear dropped down your cheek and you understood it all wrong, Jay smiled and kissed away your tear, making you flutter your eyelashes.

“Because I fell in love with you.”

“Dating each other and falling in love is forbidden and the other has the right to terminate the contract if it happens.”

“And I don’t care if it will cost me my job, I don’t give a fuck. I only want you. I want to be with you.” He held your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks lovingly.

“Jay…” You said his name in shock. You couldn’t find any words to say so you kissed him, wrapping your hands around his neck. “I am in love with you too.” You finally confessed, feeling light as ever.

“We will keep it a secret, I’ll let you be my dirty little secret forever if this is what it takes.” He talked, his lips caressed yours as he did. You tackled him on the couch, giving kisses all over his face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Jay was a giggling mess under you, he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you to his chest. You listened to his heartbeat that felt so peaceful.

That day Jay and you had a very long night, you let him fuck you without a condom the first time, and the second time and the third time. You both loved being connected like that, it felt so raw and intimate.

Then you talked for hours in your bed, only wrapped with your sheet, his hands all over you as you told him stories. Jay kept getting distracted because of your lips, so he stopped you midtalk to smash his lips against yours. He was so whipped for you and you felt the same way about him. Then he made you instant noodles because the activities you’ve done tired you enough, he wanted you to be full before you took a shower together.

In the shower, he took good care of you, helped you wash yourself and gave kisses and massages to you. His hands roamed all over you, caressed your thighs and hips, his lips attacked your collarbones before he wrapped you in his arms as you just swayed under the warm water. He dried you after the shower and watched you putting on lotion when he dried his black hair with a towel, getting flashbacks of the night he first stayed over.

Without asking you, he opened his suitcase and found a clean shirt that is way too oversized for you. He tucked the shirt over your head and then your arms, giving you the princess treatment of your life.

You realized you were so lucky to have him.

You patted the space next to you after he cozily tucked you in your bed.

Jay gladly lifted the covers and cuddled you, pulling your leg over his hip and pressing your face to his chest.

“You smell so good.” You mumbled as your fingers drew patterns on his back, which made Jay feel sleepy and safe. Being in your arms was definitely his favorite thing.

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He chuckled, placing a kiss on top of your head.

“Seems like it.” You kissed his chest. “What are we going to do at work tomorrow?” You asked in curiosity. Were you supposed to act like you still hated each other? How were you going to stand not touching him all day when he was sitting beside you.

“Don’t worry about work, everything will be okay.” He assured you. You just nodded, you trusted him with your whole heart. “I love you.” You mumbled against his chest for the 7th time that night.

“I love you more, y/n. More than you can ever imagine.”

With those words, you drifted off to sleep in your boyfriend’s arms.

You opened your eyes in Jay’s embrace, his strong chest pressed against your back and his leg over yours, trapping you. His face was buried between your shoulder blades and it was so easy for you to feel his regular breathing hitting your skin.

You laughed when you couldn’t move in his strong grip.

“Baby?..” You caressed his arm that was over your stomach. He let out a whine.

“Jay, we will be late for work.” You turned around in his arms, pulling him from his thigh against you even more before you leaned in and pressed a kiss on your boyfriend’s neck.

He rolled you over and got on top, making you scream.

“Jay!!”

“Morning sex?”

“My god, what was in your dreams?” You slapped his chest lightly.

“You.”

You checked the time and calculated in how many minutes you can get a shower and have breakfast and dress up after having sex. It didn’t add up that well but, you loved your boyfriend so much.

“I can’t say no to you.” You giggled before Jay’s fingers hooked in your panties to slide them down. He already was hard from morning, and being in Jay’s existence only was enough to make you wet.

He took his cock out of his boxers and hugged you before he plunged into you, feeling your warm velvety walls around him without a condom. Only if you knew how heavenly you felt.

He lazily thrusted into you, it was so funny because you had to kiss his face to prevent him closing his eyes sometimes, he was still so sleepy.

You connected your lips in a passionate kiss as you wrapped your legs around him and made him go deeper in you.

“I love you so much.” Jay mumbled against your lips. Then he leaned to whisper in your ear. “and I love this pretty cunt. Always tight and wet for me.”

Your cheeks got the color of literal tomato to his dirty talk all of a sudden. But you didn’t want to be defeated by your shyness.

“Only for you, baby.” You bit down on his bottom lip and pulled it slightly between your teeth, making Jay hiss.

“Look at me when you cum, I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” He commanded and you were only able to nod to his words.

After a few more thrusts, you felt his cock twitching inside of you, so you knew he was so close. When he was about to pull out to cum on your stomach, you stopped him.

He stared at you in anticipation.

You stared at his eyes. “I want your cum.” You talked boldly, making Jay suck on his bottom lip that you were biting a few minutes ago.

He started giving you slow but hard thrusts, never breaking eye contact. Your rosy cheeks and little droplets of sweat forming on your forehead made you look gorgeous to him.

You reached your high before him and looked at him as you promised,

When Jay released his high inside of you, painting your walls with his hot cum, he didn’t even want to leave your cunt. He wanted to stay there forever.

“I love you.” He kissed your cheek lovingly. “I love you, Jay.” You beamed at his spent face. After a moment of silence he spoke up.

“Should I pull out now orrr—“

“Lift me and take us to shower please we changed the sheets yesterday.” You bossed him and it made him laugh.

“Whatever my girl wants.”

At work, you never get to kiss Jay once and it was depressing you. You were missing your boyfriend so much, especially when he was sitting next to you like a snack, going through client files with his specks on. You watched him fix his tie from time to time and roll his sleeves up. How have you never realized how hot Jay was all these years? You hated yourself for it.

You decided to meet up in the restroom while no one was looking and Jay pulled you into a cabin from your hand, locking the door behind you.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He trapped you between himself and the wall. “Hi.” you cackled, finally kissing him after long hours for the first time.

He bent down to kiss your neck, inhaling your scent loudly. “I missed you so much.”

“Not being able to touch you is torture.” You pouted, caressing his lean shoulders over his shirt. When you were about to kiss again, you heard footsteps coming into the restroom.

Jay lifted you bridal style, and shushed you so no one would understand there were two people in the cabin.

“I swear to God, I saw it with my own eyes.” You heard Heeseung talking.

“Man, you were probably dreaming.” This was Jake who talked back to Heeseung.

“He was kissing her on the plane!” Heeseung whined to Jake because he wasn’t believing in him.

You and Jay looked at each other as your hand covered your mouth in shock. You saw Jay mouthing a ‘shit’ under his breath.

“Bro, y/n hates Jay’s guts. Is this April fools?” He laughed and Heeseung rolled his eyes at his unseriousness.

“Watch me get Jay fired with this, then you can have a laugh.”

You opened your mouth to yell at Heeseung but Jay was so quick to cover your mouth with his own hand, shaking his head saying you no.

“Hmm, then you can get Jay’s position and be partners with y/n.” Jake smiled as he was checking himself in the mirror.

Heeseung sang. “Exactly.” and he left the room.

“Wait!!! Heeseung?? What about me then?” Jake ran after him after he realized his partner was going to leave him alone.

When Jay put you down on the floor, there was a deadly silence between you two. He put his hands on his waist before he talked.

“You are not gonna do anything about this y/n, okay?” He taunted you very seriously, you wanted to protest so badly but you were able to see how angry he was and you didn’t want to make him even more frustrated.

But you already set your mind about what you were going to do and no one could have stopped you about it.

You had your eyes on Heeseung all day, watching his every move. You had to go to Jackson’s office before he does and talk with him. When it was almost leaving time, you got the piece of paper from the printer and made your way to your boss’ office.

You knocked on his door and waited for him to let you in.

“Boss? Can we talk?”

Jackson looked at the paper in your hand, furrowing his eyebrows. “Y/n, what’s going on? Is that-” Before he was about to finish his words, the door knocked, and Jay came in.

“Hey, boss” He said, then his eyes met with yours.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He raised his eyebrows as he stared at you and your heart felt heavy when you saw the paper he was holding in his hand.

“Jay..?” Your eyes teared up when you realized both of you were in the room to resign to be with each other.

“Okay can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Jay mouthed you a ‘it’s okay’ before he walked up to Jackson’s desk, putting the paper in front of him.

“Boss, I fell in love with your best lawyer.” He said smiling at you, while you couldn’t hold back your tears spilling down your cheeks. “And she deserves this job just like she deserved her first in Harvard.”

Jackson was too stunned to speak at this point, he was so confused, because he was sure you wanted to smack down each other only a month ago.

You wiped away your tears and protested. “No! I am resigning. Keep Jay, he loves his job.”

“Y/n I told you to do nothing about this.” He spoke between his teeth, obviously angry because you didn’t listen to him. What was he expecting though, you were always such a trouble maker since he met you.

“Boss, I fell in love with him first, fire me.” You crossed your arms in front of yourself, raising your one eyebrow at Jay like you were dueling him.

Jay bit the inside of his cheek. “You did?” He pouted, fluttering his eyelashes. You turned to him. “I am pretty sure, I did.” You tilted your head. Jay first acted like he was defeated but then turned back to Jackson.

“Lies– fire me now, Boss, I am ready.”

As Jackson was about to speak his door opened again, a beautiful woman came into his room. You literally saw Jackson’s eyes sparkling when he saw her.

“Hey, handsome.” She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. You blinked a few times to be sure you were seeing right. You looked at Jay, seeing his face as surprised as yours.

“Oh am I interrupting your work?” She said, giggling shyly.

Jackson cleared his throat before he introduced you to the woman.

“This is Mrs. Kim, the client I made you guys study on her divorce case.” After making you work on that case, Jackson asked you to give him everything you guys have found and he went to the court instead of you and won the case. The work you did was spectacular, so it was so easy for him in the court, defending the woman he once loved.

“I need to thank you two as well then.” She smiled at you. “Everything went so smoothly, now I am with the love of my life again.”

You choked on your spit, excusing yourself as you turned back and coughed your lungs out.

“So you found the love of your life because of us?” Jay asked Jackson, pointing between himself and you as he did.

This seemed like he owed you two a big thank you.

Again, before Jason was about to talk, the door opened again and this time Heeseung rushed in. Jay sent him a deadly look.

“Boss, I need to talk to you about something.” He said, but then saw the woman sitting on the armrest of Jackson’s chair, and Jay’s resignation letter on his desk. An annoying smile covered his face.

“What is going on?”

You walked up to Heeseung and pushed him from his chest. “I know that you saw us kissing on the plane, you idiot.”

Jackson put his head between his hands. “Were you guys publicly making out on the business trip I sent you?!”

Heeseung got rid of your grip and runned up to Jackson’s desk. “Exactly, boss. I am volunteering for Jay’s position.”

Jay walked up to Heeseung and grabbed him from his collar this time, “You piece of shit—“

You screamed, pulling Jay to yourself from his blazer, Jake and the girls stormed into the room since they realized something was going on.

“Enough!” Jackson yelled, standing up from his chair, making everyone look at him. Jay let go of Heeseung’s shirt in a forceful way, making him stumble a few steps back.

“If you guys had let me speak. Just for ONCE. You would understand what I wanted to say.” He loosened his tie out of frustration. One thing about attorneys that they loved to talk, which was their best skill that comes with their job.

“There are no more rules.” He said silently, sitting back down like it was nothing.

“Huh?” You raised one eyebrow at your boss.

“You heard me. Everyone is free to date whoever.”

“But boss—“ Heeseung tried to complain but Jackson put his hand up, silencing him.

“The love of my life was my partner too, and if I never had the courage to date her because of some stupid rule, now she wouldn’t be standing next to me.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her next to his side.

“And I am not willing to lose my best attorneys just because they love each other now.” He laughed at himself. “Maybe less bickering and more kissing would make you guys work harder, who knows?”

A stupid smile took over your face before you looked at your boyfriend and saw his pretty eyes staring at you back. You finally got the best of both worlds.

“Now please leave my office and get back to work.” He dismissed everyone, obviously wanting to take care of his girlfriend.

The night of the eventful day, you were over at Jay’s place for him to cook dinner for you and watch some Netflix. He made you your favorite food, and that day you found out his favorite color was purple.

“Baby, do you remember Harvard forums, where they write loads of shit about graduates anonymously?” You asked, as Jay was laying on your lap and you played with his hair.

“Hmm, I do of course, why?” He asked, getting more comfortable on your lap as his hand grabbed your upper leg.

You snorted. “I swear to God, there was an entry about someone wanting us to fuck each other on our graduation day… Now I am thinking maybe they were right about us.”

Jay giggled against your skin. “So you’re saying everyone knew we actually didn’t hate each other, we thought we did because we admired each other so badly, it hurted our egos and turned into hate.”

“Oh my god!” You slapped his shoulder. “You are right!”

Jay laughed, “Do you wanna put an entry now?” He laid on his back to look up at you. You nodded in an eager way.

Jay got his laptop from his room and got back on the couch with you, the movie you put on long forgotten.

“So, what are we gonna write?” He asked, tapping his fingers on the keyboard nonchalantly.

“Just write your worst enemy can be the person you are deeply in love with and then add our names.” You said smiling, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair. Jay turned his head and kissed your hand before he started writing what you said to him.

That night when you were cuddled into each other and sleeping peacefully, a notification sound came from Jay’s phone, but none of you heard it because of how deep you were sleeping in each other's arms, knowing there were no obstacles holding you back from loving each other freely.

The notification was a reply to Jay’s entry on Harvard’s forum:

-THEY FINALLY FUCKED I CAN DIE PEACEFULLY NOW. <3

THE END.

EXTRAS: HYUNG LINE AS OLD LOVE SONGS SERIES ⍘ PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER (story sets in the DIRTY LITTLE SECRET universe)

#jay x reader #jay smut #enhypen fics #enhypen #jay fluff #jay fics #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #smut #romance #fanfiction #rivals to lowers #fwb to lovers #dirty little secret

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justjams2003 · 6 months

Text

Fast Pace- 3

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08

Word count: 2,6k

Masterlist

Part 2~Part 4

His eyes pierce you like an ice-pick to the brain. Dark like a storm and prowling your mind, trying to pry an answer from you. He looks like a model, posing for a magazine cover. He’s leaned back, sipping from his wine, hair perfectly in place and his broad shoulders lure you in. Those coal-brown eyes don’t beg for you to say yes, but command you.

How you wish now that you could your friends and beg them to reply for you. But you can’t. You have to pull up your big-girl pants. He’s read you back to front like some cheap pamphlet. You’ve never told anyone about your big dreams. You’ve kept it under wraps, a daydream that keeps you busy when the nights are too long. The only one that really knows is your Instagram algorithm, which constantly shows you other people living your dream.

Is it too vapid of you? To only want the sweet life and not want to work for it? It’s not that you haven’t tried. You’ve spent three years working your ass off in that damn restaurant and nothing has come from it. You’ve not gotten a single raise, no other higher up, fancier, restaurants have wanted to take you in.

Your lip is caught in your teeth, and you can’t help but blush at the thought. “Would it make me lackadaisical? A floozy? Lazy?” You ask, unsure if you're asking for his approval or trying to convince yourself. He smirks and shakes his head, then takes your hand. “Quite the opposite, it would make you smart. If you take this opportunity, then you’ll get an advantage that other girls could only dream of.”

He continues, trying to convince you. “Model work isn’t easy, it will be ruthless, even with my influence. If it helps, I promise I won’t do everything for you, not that I could. But I’m certain if those agencies see you, they’ll want you immediately, as it happened with me.” He caresses each of your knuckles and his words go right to your head.

“And there would be conditions?” You ask, truly you’d already been convinced. All you really can think of now is your safety. “Naturally, you know how those lawyers are. NDAs, and certain other requirements, from both our sides.” His words are so smooth and play exactly to your heartstrings. The struggle in your mind seems to crumble with each soft sweep of his thumb on his hand.

You stare him down, trying to see any lies or hidden agreements but you get nothing but sincerity. “Alright, you’ve convinced me.” His face lights up in a huge grin and seems to almost jump in his seat. “You won’t regret it, princesa. I’ll make sure of it.” He places small butterfly kisses all over your hand. His stubble tickles and you can’t help but let the giggles fly from your mouth.

“You won’t need for another thing, ever again.”

Screaming is heard through the phone. You can’t help but laugh at your best friends’ reactions all while you soak up the feeling of being snuggled up in bed on a Thursday morning. “Tell us more. Right now.” Jas demands through the phone. “Well, after I agreed to the whole thing, he got us celebration crème brûlée, another one of my favourites.” They gasp and then scream again.

You had set your Instagram radar to follow everything related to Carlos, and your phone is going crazy. There are already so many photos circulating around the internet. There are photos of him and you at dinner, luckily though you can’t really see your face.

Rumours circulate of who this new mysterious girl could be. If you’re new or if it’s a long-term thing. Then, of course, people mostly upset because Carlos might not be single anymore. There are other people too, excited to finally see him with someone.

You can’t help but sigh, is this really what you’re getting yourself into? Are you really ready for people speculating about every single aspect of your life? Are you ready to allow yourself to be given to the public like that? More importantly, are you ready to share him? You can’t help but wonder if the fans will like you? Will they accept you or will you ruin his reputation?

“We’re so proud of you for saying yes, it is what we would have said,” Jas says again and you can’t help but laugh. “And we’re also very proud that you didn’t make it easy for him.” Ilsa comments and you know she’s thinking more long term than Jasmine or yourself. You’re scared to even tell them of the things people are saying. Should you be shocked that this feels normal already?

“Then, after the date, he asked for my bank information and then proceeded to deposit me 5,000 euros. He called it a down payment. And a taste of what is to come.” They proceed to scream once more and roll your eyes at them. You’re happier now to have the water apartment for another month. Not that you need it, looking at the F1 calendar.

A knock is heard at the door. “Uh, girls, I have to go. I’ll text you guys all the deeds at the end of the day.” They say their goodbyes and their goodluck’s. You throw the sheets you’ve had since university to the side and run over, expecting some sort of package or invoice, you throw open the door not looking to see who is outside.

“Carlos, hi,” you smile, now feeling incredibly self-conscious about the pyjamas you’re wearing. The shorts have a few holes in, and the shirt is stained more than you’d like to admit. “Good morning, hermosa. I hope I did not wake you, no?” Those earth-brown eyes scan over every inch of your form and a smirk creeps across his face.

“Don’t laugh at me, you’re early. You said the flight was at nine and I haven’t gotten ready yet,” a blush coats your cheeks as his charming grin grows wider. “I am not laughing at you, hermosa. Quite the opposite, you look...” he’s holding back, you can see it in his eyes. Already you can tell he wears his heart on his sleeve.

Carlos’ mind is somewhere else, and his eyes are glued to you. He then snaps out of it, “May I come in?” He asks and now you’re really blushing. The place is small and rundown, the paint is peeling, and you’ve given up on trying to get rid of the musk that the building carries. Not to mention, the place is a mess after your frantic packing last night.

“Yes, uh, please excuse the mess.” His eyes don’t even glance at any of the strewn-around clothes or dirty dishes. His hand naturally falls to your waist, pulling you closer and then placing a small kiss on the crown of your head. You can’t help but notice how perfectly you fit into his side. After he sits down by your small kitchen counter you notice the things he’s carrying in his hands.

A packet of paper, and a leather bag. “You can make yourself comfortable while I go get ready.” Again, you go to leave but you’re pulled back by the wrist. In one quick motion, you find yourself standing between his strong legs. He holds up the bag for you, “I’ve brought you something to wear. And don’t bother packing, we’ll buy anything you need there.”

You go to protest, but he gives you a sharp look, a similar one from last night. The look that fuels and tames the fire in your body all at the same time. And yet, you keep your mouth shut and follow his instructions.

The hoodie is huge on you, it hangs on the middle of your thigh and the sleeves hang over your hands. It’s bright red with black shoulders and the Ferrari logo is unmistakable. You pair it with plain black leggings and sneakers. You hold the cap, that came with, in your hands, and already you feel a bit showy.

You walk out and Carlos’ eyes immediately snaps to you. Those stormy eyes of his instantly go even darker. He rakes his hand through those dark locks of his as if he needs to ground himself. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” You give a playful scoff, but he shakes his head. He stands up and takes the cap you’re holding from you.

“I must disagree; I want everyone to know you’re mine now.” He picks up the hat and places it comfortably on your head. His gaze is strong, and you scrunch your nose, unsure if he approves of your appearance. You hadn’t bothered with too much makeup. Your reaction causes something you’d compare to an animalistic growl come from him.

“He esperado tanto por esto.” His Spanish tongue is something that should be illegal, simply because of the way he makes you feel. You’re certain he could call you a hideous beast and you’d still fall to your knees. “You have no idea what you do to me, mi amor.” His finger just lightly grazes your cheek and you’re entirely mesmerized by the way he stares into my soul. As if you’re a prize he’s been yearning for all his life.

In desperate need to hide yourself from his burning gaze, you switch the topic, in fear that he might find something wrong with you if he looks long enough. “What’s with the papers?” He looks almost annoyed to be doing something other than admiring you. “It is courtesy of my lawyers. The NDA we had talked about last night.” He takes your hand and guides you to the seat next to him.

“It’s more to protect the public image than anything. I don’t think it’s needed, but you know how they can be, no?” He jokes while you read it through. If you had a lawyer, you would’ve had them read it through, but you don’t. So, instead in a leap of faith, you sign it without much thought. You can hear your mother yelling at you in your mind.

“Alright, are we ready to go then?” You ask, not wanting to think more about the legal side of this all. More so just excited to jump into this new life. Excited to see all these new places you two are going to together. He raises his brow at you, “Are you sure that you’re ready?” He asks, taking his hand in yours and you have to hide your smile.

“Or, is my pretty girl eager to join me in the public eye?” He shoots you a wink and a blush creeps across your cheek. You can’t help but blush your lip and hide yourself from him. How does he always know just what is going on in your mind? “I knew I chose right; other girls would be so scared to face those vultures. But I can see....”

He seems to trail off, gently caressing your cheek. “Hmm, yes, what do you see?” You bite your lip and flutter your eyes, loving any sort of physical attention from him. He then shoots you a wink before shaking his head. “Come, we’re going to be late.” He stands up from his seat, taking your hand and dragging you out the door.

“No, please, Carlos! You can’t do that to me!” You whine, though it’s all fun and games. Still, Carlos mutters under his breath, as always in Spanish. A language that you now consider learning. Just to know what he’s saying about you.

“What are you doing, hermosa?” He asks, watching as you pull out your phone and look at the Instagram again. Ilsa likes to say you’re addicted; you just like to say you’re connected. This, however, isn’t exactly something that you wanted him to know about. A bit embarrassed more than anything scared that he’ll judge you for your extreme consumerism.

You hide behind your hair, “Nothing,” you mutter immediately turning your phone off. He rolls his eyes at you, then wraps his hand around your waist. He then drags you across the seat, right next to him. He then takes your thigh closest to him and drapes it over his leg. His hand stays there, rubbing soothing circles. “Give it here,” he says, his eyes stern and his hand held out.

This time you don’t give in and just cross your hands, staring him down. Your phone is your safe space and not even your closest friends are allowed to see it. “Niña terca,” he mutters under his breath, his jaw locking tight.

“If you give it to me now, I’ll buy you a new one.” Your own jaw this time hangs open. This time you give in with a huff and hand him the old 2017 Samsung, already open. Is this how it’ll always be? How much of yourself are you willing to give to him, for your future?

A smirk crawls on his face, that smile of his could stop traffic. If he were to be charged with a crime, he could simply flash the judge that smile, and they’d free him of all charges. “You like seeing what they say?” Your ears are bright red and wish the earth would swallow you whole. You give a small shrug, “It’s all I used to have time for.”

“But you don’t post that much, no?” He asks, and you can see him going through your account. “I don’t have anything to post.” Carlos shakes his head. “I must disagree, mi amor. Your beauty should be seen by everyone. But we will make sure that you have too much content, no?” His sweet whispers are something that you’ve been yearning for all your life.

“Why don’t we do, what do the people call it?” You furrow your brows, there is a language and generation barrier. You can’t help but smirk at his word choice. “The younger people you mean? Oh, lord, what have I gotten myself into?” You say, referring to the age gap between you two. How lucky aren’t you? As if you’d been written into the perfect book, no plot turns, no villains, nothing.

This time it’s him who blushes, “No, no, no, hermosa. What do they say? Where you post the kissing instead of letting them find out slowly?” A loud laugh escapes your lips and he too blushes and can’t help but laugh. “A hard launch?” He laughs, this time, he is the one hiding his face in the rook of your neck.

“Yes, yes, just like so.” There is a moment of silence between the two of you as consider it in your mind. “You mean it? You don’t want to see how the team reacts first? To see how the fans react?” Your voice goes quiet, insecure about your worthiness of him. “I’m sure. I’m sure of you. I’m sure of us.” You don’t deny him and allow him to take the photo.

He takes a few photos. One with his face still hiding in the crook of your neck, the next where your head sits on his shoulder while you stare up at him. In the last he’s placing a kiss on your forehead, the 55-logo hard to miss.

While you choose the photos to post, you can’t help but see just how much adoration you look at him. In your deepest heart, you hope he doesn’t see it too. He can’t know just how excited you are for this. How much you already like him, and how you’re enjoying his company more than his money.

You posted the pictures with the caption, “I like a fast pace too.” Of course, with Carlos tagged. He then posts it on his story. And after the rest of the car ride, he tucks both of your phones away and makes sure you get to know each other as much as possible.

My taglist is open! If you wish to be tagged in this story alone, please comment or reblog with the words 'tag'. And if you wish to be tagged in all my posts please comment or reblog with the words 'tag all'.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #sugar daddy!Carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

Text

Devil In Disguise – Drabble

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x JAG Lawyer!Reader

Summary: in which Jake finds out the female officer he's been eye fucking for half an hour is actually JAG.

Notes: nothing except some language really.

Masterlist

The aviator across the room has been staring at you for over thirty minutes now. Normally you don’t notice that kind of thing, you usually got stares when you were working, but this was different.

No, for the past thirty minutes you were practically being eye fucked.

That was a little less normal, especially while you were at work. Well, technically you weren’t working right now, you’d wrapped up your most recent case last night, but your transport off the carrier wasn’t due until a little later this morning. For now, you were sitting in the officer’s mess, and enjoying what was a surprisingly decent coffee.

When you stand to go get a refill, you see the aviator push out of his seat and begin moving toward you, clearly planning an intercept. You sigh to yourself, amused, but ultimately already a little put out by what you know is about to happen.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” his southern twang surprises you, but you won’t let him have it easy just because of that.

“There’s five thousand, two hundred and two people on this carrier, I doubt you’ve met all of them,” you snort, selecting your coffee of choice on the machine and finally turning to face the man standing at a lean next to you. He’s looking at you like he’s God’s gift to women, and honestly, he has every right to; tall, blonde, startling green eyes that regard you as if he were already fond, despite not knowing you at all.

“Five thousand, two hundred.” he corrects you, raising an eyebrow. You almost hate to burst his bubble, but you can’t resist.

“Five thousand, two hundred and two,” you repeat again, before pointing to the small mark of insignia on your uniform, marking you out as not a normal member of the crew. “Lieutenant Prower, J.A.G.” You inform him and watch as his features go briefly blank, before scrunching up into what looks like all seven stages of grief at once.

He straightens, all flirtation expelled from his posture now, and he cusses. You purse your lips, but smile, and collect your now finished coffee.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected.” You tell him, before cocking your head, and giving him a sympathetic smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Lieutenant Seresin.”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him and his regret at the coffee machine.

–

Jake scowls. By rights, he should dislike you. He’s certainly disliked every other JAG lawyer he’s ever met, he doesn’t see why that should change now. It shouldn’t change now, he tells himself. But then again, he’s never met the same JAG lawyer twice, so already you weren’t like any of the others, but he already knew that just from looking at you.

Before he can stop himself, he realises he’s pushed away from the pool table and his feet are already carrying him over towards you. Just like on the carrier, you’ve been aware of his staring for some time, and just like on the carrier, Jake sidles up alongside you and leans against the bar. Unlike on the carrier, he doesn’t try to use some stupid line on you this time. He can’t bring himself to, despite the utter hold you apparently have over him.

“Shouldn’t you be off torturing some sailors?” he asks, choosing snark instead.

“Only on my days off,” you reply without missing a beat, this time being the first to turn to look at him. Jake softens just a little, against everything in him telling him not to, but he can’t help it. He returns your gaze and looks you over.

You’re still in your dress whites, though he figures you must wear them a lot more than he does, being JAG and all, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen someone fill it out as well as you do.

“Well, if you love your job you never work a day in your life, right?” he smirks at you, and preens when you laugh sweetly, genuinely.

Jake turns to the bartender who approaches, and orders the both of you another drink.

“I almost didn’t recognise you,” he states, not bothering to expand on what he means.

“Well, my devil horns and pitchfork aren’t exactly regulation, so most don’t see me coming.” you say flippantly, and it only works to soften Jake even further. He leans down on his forearms and fixes you with a gentler smile this time, his brows creasing just slightly.

“You aren’t used to people knowing you're JAG and flirting anyway, are you?” he questions, pleased to see he’s thrown you and your snappy comebacks off kilter.

Your shoulders seem to relax, and you thank him quietly as the bartender returns and Jake passes you the drink he’d bought for you. Your gaze has dropped now, and you meekly shrug, refusing to meet his eye.

“Not really.” you admit, and Jake feels the last hardened parts of him crumble, full determined to make you smile again.

“Most people think JAG is the devil incarnate,” he says, though he knows it’s not new information to you whatsoever. He leans into your space further, making you finally look up at him again, and he locks eyes with you.

“Luckily, I’ve got a thing for bad girls.”

#ive been watching JAG can you tell #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you

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rbbrbikerthorp · 1 year

Text

Graduating Law Student Transformed Into A Skinboi

It’s the culmination of several months hard work; yet I can chalk up another successful transformation.

As you look at him now, you don’t need me to tell you there’s no way back to the life he once imagined. I have taken away everything he used to be and I have remade him into what will be more appropriate life for him to lead.

You can see the total adulation, respect and appreciation for what I have turned him into. He knows he’s a skinhead now, no questions, no dissent, no complaints, no regrets - just a proud skinhead.

-------------------

Let me tell you just a little about who I am. I’m a gay skinhead in my late forties, living in a nondescript English town in the Midlands. I’ve been one since my early teens. As a young teen in the Eighties I’d hang out with skins in their late teens/early twenties who used to incentivise me to encourage my classmates to become new members of ‘their skinhead gang’. With any money they’d get from work, whether that was stacking shelves, apprenticeships, or learning a trade, they’d buy stuff like ciggies, lager and cider, on occasions, even tickets to the footy and offer these things around as ‘rewards’ to new lads.

And it worked. Word got around that you could do cool things when you became ‘one of us’. We looked out for one another, and if any of the members got into ‘trouble’ we’d be right there with them. There were what could be described of as ‘terms and conditions’ for members to comply with: DMs (black or oxblood) had to be worn in and out of school, 10 hole, preferably and with coloured laces. Outside it was boots plus black or red Harrington (Crombies were also allowed) over a Fred Perry top along with tight, shortened jeans and heads shaved as short as they could get away with. ‘Start ‘em young and keep them for life’ was our mantra.

Enough of the past, so back to the present.

I had been planning my next project. I had three potential ‘candidates’ to choose from; two would be left to carry on blissfully unaware how close they came to being transformed. One ‘fortunate’ lad would be taken by me and given a completely new life.

Some weeks ago I was in a coffee shop when one of potential lads I’d been tracking entered looking rather flustered. It was a perfect opportunity to take a good look at him. “Around twenty, height five ten, maybe five eleven, footballer’s build, dressed in a sharp looking suit - must care about his appearance - hmmm that bodes well for his future life”. The great thing about making coffees to order is that I was able to more fully assess this candidate - and I liked what I had seen. Eventually he got what he came for - four coffees in one of those egg box-like cardboard trays - and left. I decided this lad would probably be my preferred choice.

To confirm this I followed him discreetly all the way to the five floor building, which happened to be the offices of a law firm. He was way too young looking to be a qualified lawyer, so I concluded he was possibly still in law school, combining his studies with some ‘on-the-job’ work. If I step in, I could save him from a life of tediousness: of clock watching, pen pushing, keyboard strokes and general stress. I’d give him a simpler life as a skinhead. He would be waving goodbye to the potential of a five bedroom house, Mercedes and Rolex, but he’d have a proper job. He’d have proper mates and would live a modest life. A skinhead life. Yes, I decided there and then - this lad was the one.

For the next few weeks I tracked all his moves. Where he went, who (if anyone) he met with, what modes of transport he used and most importantly the hours he put in studying and working.

Two days a week he was not in law school. On those days he would leave his digs around 7:40am, walk to the end of the road and wait for the number 17 bus, which would turn up about ten to eight. Traffic depending, the journey to the main bus station took 25 minutes. He would walk from there to the office, some days stopping at McDonalds to get breakfast, sometimes not. Regardless, he would always get to the office for 8:30.

The end of the day was different and seemed less structured. The lad must have been focussed on his future career because I would see an exodus from the building around 5:30pm, but he was never part of that ‘first wave’ in fact he never emerged before 6 and sometimes it was almost 7 before he’d walk out of the main entrance. When he did leave, like most of his generation, he’s be focussed on his phone, distracted from what was going on around him. At that time of the evening the area was pretty much deserted. As this lad was going to be my next project I needed to see what he did after work. So, like a shadow I followed his movements at night.

I discovered that he didn’t have that many friends. A couple of random nights he’d go to the Pure Gym which was just on the edge of the town centre. sometimes he’d be accompanied but mostly he went there on his own. At the weekend he didn’t seem to do much. Occasionally I’d note him board the bus into town, returning several hours later with one or two shopping bags from places like JD Sports, Hollister or Flannels. I didn’t see him go into a pub or bar, nor did I see him smoke but that would all change when I’d finished with his transformation.

I had all the knowledge about his movements but the next question on my mind was how to capture the lad and how to get him back here without causing too much commotion. I started mulling things over, a thought jumped into my head. My mate Mal has a 1997 Ford Transit van that he says I can use whenever I need to. Perhaps I could use the van as a distraction. I finished putting my plan together and decided on next Tuesday (one of the days he always attended the office) would be the day when the lad would become my boi.

I’d need to get him a few bits to wear. From previous projects I had become pretty good a sizing a lad. I wouldn’t know his shoe size but I’d take a guess. Back home I fired up my laptop to see how quickly I could get stuff. I logged into eBay first and found most of what I needed. I selected the ‘buy now’ option to make sure it could be delivered in time for my new guest to ‘arrive’.

So I had his clobber on order - Tuesday couldn’t come around soon enough.

-------------------

Tuesday night came along and I’d parked Mal’s van on the same street as the law firm about twenty or thirty yards along from the entrance so any security cameras or nosy security guards couldn’t see what was going to conspire.

I checked the time, 5:15pm. Good I was pretty confident I’d be ready for when he emerged from the building after all his colleagues had left.

It got to 5:30 - suddenly there was an exodus of dozens and dozens people. I watched out for him looking in my wing mirrors. Good, as predicted the lad wasn’t one of them. When the rush had died down I needed to time my next move carefully. It was 6:15 and no one had emerged from the building for over a quarter of an hour. I made my move. I pulled the lever, which opened the bonnet on Mal’s van. My pretext for getting into conversation with the lad would be that I was having trouble with the engine and I needed to stand in front of the van whilst someone turned the key. That was something anyone could do.

Sure enough just before half past, the lad emerged with a ruck sack on his back. I’d been standing by the wall looking like I was waiting for a breakdown service to attend to me, but I wasn’t.

I called out to the lad, who as I had seen countless times was looking down at his phone, "Oi mate - I’m 'avin a bit of trouble, can you help?”

The lad looked up, “Erm me, you need a hand?"” he queried

“I’d appreciate it, my van’s playing up and I can’t get hold of the breakdown service. If you could spare me two minutes, I might be able to get it going.”

He looked around and then said “Sure, but I’m not sure I can do any good. I don’t know anything about van mechanics.”

He must have been surprised to see the way I was dressed - DM's. bleached jeans, olive green bomber jacket and beanie hat covering my shaved head.

He cautiously walked towards me, everything was going to plan.

“Don’t worry lad, I’ll take care of the engine. All I need you to do is jump behind the wheel and turn the key but not before I tell you to, okay?”

The lad simply nodded and climbed into the van.

I spent a few moments checking the engine, an engine that in truth was working perfectly. I had pulled the distributor wire, so I knew nothing would happen when the key was turned. Timing was of the essence, because you really can drain the battery if you continuously try to start a van disabled in this fashion.

I spoke to the lad, “nothing appears out of place - go on and turn the key. The engine kind of turned over, but stalled and died. “Shit”.

I kept the charade going for several minutes. Spending a minute or two between each key-turn pretending to fiddle with the engine and then telling the lad to turn the key, knowing it wouldn’t start.

With a frustrated look on my face I came round to the driver’s door and said, “I think I’m going try call the breakdown service again and hope they can get to me tonight” He just kind of nodded at me as I rubbed my hands briskly. “Before I do there’s one more thing I’m going to try that I need your help with,” and before he could reply I continued to speak, “It’s a bit parky this evening. D'you fancy a drink? I got a flask of coffee in the back.”

There was a risk that he would decline the offer, but I’d got him invested in my problem so he simply nodded.

“C'mon then"

The lad jumped out of the drivers seat and followed me round to the back of the van. I got the flask out and poured me some coffee onto two plastic cups. I lifted the cup to my mouth and held it there as I watched the naive lad take a sip "That's it mate - drink it all down"

“It’s really nice,” he told me, so I poured some out another cup. He took a few gulps more, then the cup fell out of his hand.

-------------------

The lad knew nothing more until he came around later tied to a chair. At first he didn’t know what had happened only that he had a blinding headache. As he became more conscious he could see there was someone sitting across the room from him. He became lucid enough to realise it was me, the same skinhead with the broken down van that asked him for help. The same skinhead with a lit cigarette in my mouth. The lad then realised all his clothes with the exception of his underwear had been removed. He was also fully aware of the ropes that were restraining him. He started to struggle and started to hurl verbal abuse at me. I was mildly surprised; I thought a trainee lawyer might have had a better grasp of English.

I said nothing, I stood up walked over to the lad and stuffed a dirty football sock in his mouth. “That’ll stop you making too much noise. It’s late, I’m going to bed. You’re my ‘guest’ for as long as I want to keep you, g'night”

-------------------

The next morning, the lad was woken by cold water being thrown in has face.

I left the room and came back with a pair of clippers. The lad’s eyes widened, I could see him begin to panic. A muffled "no" came from his sock-filled mouth. The cold teeth of the clippers slid across the middle of his head from forehead to crown, the first clump of hair slipped onto the floor. The lad started to struggle so I said “if you struggle you will get cut now that’s fine with me but you might not like it”. My grip changing aggressively as I worked around his head moving front to back, and all around the sides. I rubbed all over his head, happy with my work I turned the clippers off. The lad now had a zero crop. I walked into the bathroom and returned with a bowl and shaving kit.

I put down a bowl of warm water, can of shaving foam and an old fashioned razor. Again, he started to struggle against his bonds. He was saying something but I just ignored and started wetting his stubble, after-which I worked the shaving foam into his stubbly scalp. Then, more for effect than anything else, I picked up a cut-throat razor. Once again I explained that if the lad didn’t keep still he might lose a lot of blood before he was finished. This time the lad was motionless. I have to say for the duration of his head shave, he really didn’t move a muscle.

The last stroke of the razor was the longest and the best. I wrapped his head in a towel to remove the last bit of foam. Then drizzled some balm and messaged it into my freshly shaved scalp. I took the bowl and stuff back into the bathroom. Happy with my work I sat down on a chair across the room from him. “Now, let explain what is happening to you. First, I’m only going to release you if you accept these rules. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not move unless I tell you to. You will do what I say without question. From now on until I tell you otherwise you call me Boss. Do you accept these rules boi?” He just nodded - I’m pretty sure he’d agree to anything just to get the stale sock out of his mouth. I carried on setting out the rules, “I’m warning you now, disobey me and you will again be restrained on that chair and you will also get a severe punishment is that clear?”

Forlorn looking he nodded again.

“Now listen to me. Your old life is over. You have been chosen by me to become a skinhead. I will turn you into a proud skinhead, eventually you will be inked and then pierced to my specification but in the meantime you are going wear skin gear.” Today you begin a new life with me. Now, the first thing I need is your signature on a few pieces of paper…you know just to make everything legal”. I handed the lad a pen but he didn’t take it straight away, “now I’ve told you there is an easy way with you accepting the new life I’m offering you or we can do it the hard way. It doesn’t bother me - now sign the documents or you’re going to take one hell of a beating.” Reluctantly the lad took the pen I was holding and signed his name on the papers and handed them back to me. [The signed papers would give notice on his rented flat, would inform his lecturers that he was quitting law school and he was resigning from his placement at the law firm].

I wheeled a mirror into the room so he could see his denuded head. “You look like a man now and I bet you feel better don’t you?” Not knowing what else to do, he simply nodded back. I reinforced my previous statement of intent, “so you’re my new project boi and when the time comes to leave me you will leave as a skinhead. A booted, inked and pierced skinhead, living by the skin code.” I finished my monologue and left the room to go make myself a drink and so that he could mull over what I’d just told him.

-------------------

I came back into the room about half an hour later. “It’s time to begin boi.” Pointing over at five pairs of black boots with different coloured laces I told him the first lesson will be how to look after your boots.

In my hand I had some black polish, what he realised was the work shirt he’d been wearing and a shoe brush. I dropped them by his feet and said “ok boi get over here and start shining the boots”. Understanding the previous warning I’d given him, there was no way out of this. He stood up from the chair walked over to where the boots were lined up. He timidly asked me “which ones Boss?” I was pleased he called me Boss without any prompting, ”all of them,” I responded. “Start with the ones in the middle, the ones with the white laces boi.”

He picked up the boots I’d instructed him. He opened the tin and dipped the rag into the black polish. He spent the next few hours shining all five pairs of boots. Every time he looked up to say he was finished, i would shake my head and give him a slap.

Now I know a thing about retraining lads, especially lads from good homes who tend to have a natural obedience because of their upbringing. I carefully balance the use of ‘fear of pain’ and ‘reward’. So long as the boi lives in fear of me and the pain I could inflict upon him, I can focus him on being rewarded for complying with my orders.

I looked at him, totally focussed on the boots. I thought about what might have been for the boi if I hadn’t decided to take him under my wing, I’m pretty sure that in his head he had his life mapped out ahead of him - someday becoming a partner in a law firm earning three-maybe four hundred thousand a year, marrying and having two or three kids. I step in and disrupt that to give him a new purpose, a more worthwhile purpose and a the opportunity to work in a proper job. Perhaps as a labourer, a refuse collector, joiner’s apprentice - who knows? What I do know is that he never, ever thought of being a skinhead; but soon he won’t be able to imagine life as anything else.

In all it took four hours of polishing the five pairs of boots before I said, “that’s enough for a first effort. You have one more pair to do later, they’re the ones you’ll be wearing!” I could see him shudder. “Now let’s get you dressed proper.”

I handed him a black Fred Perry shirt with yellow trim. “Put it on boi.”

He took it without questioning me, “yes, Boss.” He slipped the black polo over his body, I’d guessed the right size because it fitted perfectly. Next I told him that skinheads didn’t wear ‘poncy’ underwear, they go commando or wear a jock. “You are going to wear a jock and in time you’ll find out why.” I grinned, he had no idea about that devious part of my plan. I passed it to him and he looked at it - clearly he’d never worn one to play sport. “Take yer pants off, throw ‘em over there and put that on.” I remember he turned a shade of crimson. “Look boi, you ain’t got anything different to me, just get to it.” He saw me ball my fist, so he dithered no more and put the jock on.

You’ll wear that day after day untilI tell you to take it off. Next I told him to get the white football socks and put them on. Now for your bleachers. They’re gonna feel tight but that’s the way they are meant to be. This was the part I was looking forward - seeing the boi in tight bleachers, which I’d had cut so they barely went over the knee. And him seeing himself shaved and wearing skin gear for the first time.

I watch him stand up to pull them on. They were very tight and left nothing to the imagination. He told he felt they were too tight and felt weirdly short. I told him it’s how they are supposed to be. He was about to sit down when I told him to stay standing. I walked over to him and attached a pair of yellow braces to the waist of his bleachers at the back, over his shoulders and clipped them to the front.

“Nice - you’re looking the part boi,. but there’s something missing...”

“Are you going to make me wear a pair of those boots?”

“Haven’t you forgotten a word boi?” I clenched my fist again.

“Sorry....I mean BoSS, are you going to make me wear boots BoSS?”

“No, you have to earn the right to wear your boots, boi”

Pointing over to the wall, I instructed him to look at himself in the mirror. I told him he was well into his journey to becoming a skinhead.

I was surprised to see a bulge growing in his bleachers. “Interesting”, I thought. I felt that things were progressing at the right pace. I turned and left the room, leaving the lad to his thoughts.

-------------------

Breaking down a lad and rebuilding him as a boi in the desired image isn’t easy. If he was going to be a skinhead, he would have to behave like a skinhead and to believe there was no other way. To do this I ordered him to shave his head with foam and a razor every single morning. He would have to wait for me to inspect his work, only when I was satisfied would I allow him to get dressed. He would spend his day looking like a skin: wearing bleachers, Fred Perry, braces and football socks.

He still wasn’t allowed to wear boots. My goal was for him to learn the importance of boots to a skinhead: a highly visible sign that the wearer doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks of them, they look menacing, and says ‘don’t mess with me’ because if you do, you’ll be the loser. I wanted him to beg me to wear the boots I’d got him, and I knew it would only be a matter of time until he was begging for permission to be booted. Until then on the occasions when we needed to go out, I made him out on some old workie overalls and on his feet he’d wear a pair of cheap and nasty black canvas plimsoles (remember the ones you might have worn in school?).

I didn’t know what his orientation was. In doing my research I’d not seen any evidence of girlfriend, or a boyfriend for that matter. I guessed that he might be so focussed on career, that he had suppressed any sexual urges or thought he’d wait ‘till the right person came along; then marry and have kids. Well, I had other plans. I wanted a boi to have ‘fun’ with and when I decided the time would come to let him leave he’d have absolutely no interest in women and he’d be looking for a skinhead partner or follow in my footsteps, finding ‘a lost sheep’ to convert into a proud gay skinhead, swelling the skinhead ranks.

-------------------

I returned to the room, “ok boi get over here.” He walked over towards me. “It’s time for you next lesson boi, you’re going to learn the art of bootlicking; you’re going to worship my boots. Boots are going to be the focus of your world and you don’t stop till I say. Get to it and I want to feel your tongue pressing hard.” Every so often I’d say “stop” and the boi would think he had done, but it was just to allow me to get a drink or go to the loo. I’d return and tell the lad to continue. I wanted him to get used to the position, being subservient (for the time being) and fully compliant with my instructions. Growing to love the taste of the leather, eventually becoming addicted to it. “Good boi”, I’d say every so often.

After a couple of hours of kneeling at my boots I told him, “that’s enough for a first effort now start on the other one”. The boi’s shoulders dropped but he did not say a word just started on the my other boot. After two more hours of bootlicking I allowed the lad to take a break. I got him some food but I made him eat it sitting on the floor by my boots.

The routine created for my new skinboi was expedited day after day. I would wake him at 6am in order for him to shave his head. I’d check the shave was to my satisfaction. Then he’d dress: black Fred Perry shirt, white football socks, bleachers, white braces. Then it would be down to work polishing all the boots in the morning, worshiping my boots in the afternoon and sometimes going outside with me dressed in full skin-gear and him in workie overalls and plimsoles. The monotony and repetition was wiping away his old life, soon all he would know is being a skinhead.

I also introduced him to the ‘joys’ that only a man can give another man. "Boi, Get over here, and get down on your knees." I watched my boi nervously get down on his knees. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward so his face was in my crotch. I held him there so he can revel in the joys of his Boss’ scent. After a few minutes I told him to unbutton my bleachers. He was reluctant at first, but I was insistent. He knew I could meter a severe punishment, so using his fingers in he starts undoing the buttons, one by one. He looked up into his eyes knowing what was about to ensue. He opened his mouth to speak, but I said, "Ssh.. boi.. this is a necessary part of your training." He takes hold of my waistline and pulls down my bleachers, forcing my jock down too. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as my tumescent manhood strikes him on the chin. My balls are big and hang low. All he can do is stare. I’m pretty lucky, at least 8 inches long, and thick enough that his hand will be able to wrap around it, but only just.

With my hand still on the back of my head, I say to him “open up boi.” He hesitates, but seeing the expression on my face, he complies. I know he’s scared about what is going to happen. He was probably thinking about that ‘normal’ life of wife, kids and career. But looking at him, I can see there is some level of arousal. I now enter his now willing mouth. The underside of my manhood rubs against the top of his tongue as he lets it rest in his mouth for a few seconds. I pull his head forward so I can force myself deeper into his throat. It's half way in before he gags on its length. Laughing, I pull out, "Pretty big eh? Don't worry. We'll work on that.” I put it back in his mouth and he begins sucking again. It isn't long before I notice how turned on he is by all of this. Something must have clicked in his mind. Perhaps he wasn’t sure of his sexuality. Perhaps he was naturally submissive and was finally responding to the changes I was making to him. I’ll never really know. He is now sucking with vigour; even trying his hardest to take me in his throat and make his Boss happy.

"What a good boi. You like sucking your Boss’ dick don't you?"

He nodded. I could tell from looking into his eyes he was happy he was making his Boss happy. I smiled, “you’re going to be getting as lot of practice from now on boi. In fact when you finally leave, you’ll have no interest in women anymore - that’s if you had any in the first place. A skinhead like you is going to be into real blokes, who love aggro, sp[it, piss and hard sex. Now get up.”

I stand him up, turn him around, and walk him over to the sofa. “Strip,” I order. He hesitates for a moment, but seeing the expression on my face, he obediently takes off his Fred Perry, drops his bleachers, and pulls down his jock. What i assume to be his untouched hole is fully now exposed to me. I lean him into the sofa, putting his knees up on the cushions and face into the backrest. As I stand behind him I’m pretty sure he can feel something rubbing on his bum cheeks. I’m pretty sure he knows what it is. My hands are exploring his arse, rubbing and massaging all over.

Then I do something he wouldn’t be expecting. I lean forward and bury my face in his arse. I’m ravishing his hole with my tongue, and I know he will have never had a feeling like this before. He’s now moaning into the cushions as my tongue explores my hole. Satisfied with my work I pull back. I hear a squeak of disappointment, but it doesn't last long. The next noise that emanates from the lad is a ‘yelp’ in response to me sliding a finger into his wet boi hole. His bum clenches as I slide my finger in and out.

“How does that feel boi?”

Breathlessly he responds, “it feels amazing. Don’t stop. Please.”

I reach around him and start jerking him off my, using the precum leaking out of the head I keep a steady pace in order to distract him from what I’m about to do. I insert another finger into his hole, then a third. I know he could have never dreamed about the pleasure he’s experiencing at this point. I kept this up for ten, twenty, maybe thirty minutes - I can’t remember. When I gauged that he was almost at the point of no return I asked him a question.

"Are you ready for me to finally mark you as mine, boi?

At this point I knew he didn’t want this ‘world of pleasure’ I was giving him to end, so he vigorously nodded .

“Do you want to screw your tight little virgin boi hole? Speak."

"Please. Yes. I need your cock. Please take my boi hole," he whimpers.

I rub the head of my cock against his hole. His hands reach behind him and with both hands he pulls his cheeks apart giving me full access. Slowly, I push forwards applying pressure on his hole. Then, the pop. I’m in.

He yelps, “ow, ow, it hurts, no! He tries to rise up. But then I place a hand on his back, forcing him down.

"Shh.. boi..give it time, The pain will go - you'll learn to love it"

I keep the head of my hard pole in his hole for a few seconds without moving it to get him accustomed to it. Very slowly I start to move back and forth. I’m very steadily stretching his hole more and more. But then I notice a change in the noises he’s making.

I spoke up, “see boi, that initial pain begins to get replaced. Replaced by this, full feeling and eventually that makes way for an unbelievable pleasure. A pleasure only a man can give you.” I rock back and forth, putting more of my cock into his tight arse, When I pull back he’s started to push back; he’s moaning each time more is pushed inside him, until finally I feel my sack up against his arse.

"You like that boi? All of your Boss is in your arse. And my what a tight one you have boi."

"Ohh.... It's so good," in his state of ecstasy is all he can summon up.

I begin pumping back and forth, pulling out to the point to where the tip of the head is all that is left in his arse and then pressing all the way back in.

"Tell me you like it boi. Tell your skinhead Boss what you want me to do. Tell me now boi!"

"Boss yes!.. You feel so good inside me. Please don't stop. Please. Please fill me with your pure skinhead seed"

I pick up the pace to the point where I’m pounding his arse. I continue to penetrate him over and over again. I’m hoping to reach that special place every male has. I tell him to turn around because I want him to be looking at me when I deposit my seed. I start again, pumping in and out, over and over. His eyes roll back into his head as I go all the way down. I can tell he’s experiencing a new feeling. Soon he’ll be at the point of no return. The point where man sex is all he desires.

"You feel that boi? I’m massaging your prostate"

"Oh my god Boss. That feels so good. Please don't stop."

I’m thrusting into his arse, back and forth, slowly at first then picking up the pace. He grabs his cock and starts jerking it.

"Yes!” he says, “please keep going. don’t stop!"

I keep pumping away, when I hear him say, “I’m going to cum.” I pull his hands away. “You have to ask permission to cum boi.” I say sternly.

“Please may I cum, please Boss?” he begs.

“I’ll let you cum when you tell me what you are boi.”

“What, what do you mean?” he queries.

“Tell me what you are boi, tell me you’re a skinhead! Tell me you’re going to live your life as a proud, gay skinhead. You’ll spread the word and convert others to the skinhead life.”

“Yes, I will,” he responds, eagerly.

“Not good enough boi, tell me what I have turned you into, now!”

Breathing heavily as I continue to plough in and out of his arse he responds, “oh, okay. I’m a skinhead, a gay skinhead. I proud, gay skinhead. I’ve been shown how to live as a skinhead, how to dress in skin gear, how to polish and lace my boots correctly. How to shave my head. How to live my life... from... now on as a skinhead.”

“Yes boi, you are a skinhead. For now you’re my skin boi. There are some final changes I have to make to ensure there’s no return to your old life. Now cum for me.”

Streams of cum land on his chest. I feel his are clinches around my cock as I keeps pumping away, reaching the point of no return. Marking him, filling him with my essence. I look deeply into his eyes and can see complete bliss.

I slow down, then pull out. Our lips meet and lock together.

To reinforce his new gay skinhead life, we repeat these sessions, day after day. Me on top and him on the bottom. Because I want him to convert others to the skinhead life, I need to allow him to top. So in some sessions we switch and he gets to experience what it’s like to penetrate another man. We always shag in skinhead gear and our sessions get more exciting as he gives himself to this new life I’ve created for him.

-------------------

A couple of weeks later, I woke up to find my boi had got out of my bed early and was already in the bathroom. I opened the door to find him shaving his head. I smiled at him and he smiled back: success!

I waited for him to come downstairs wondering how he would be dressed. Sure enough he walked into the room, with the exception of a pair of boots he was dressed in his skinhead gear.

I looked up, “hello boi, what are you?” was all I asked him.

“I am a skinhead Boss, living by the skinhead code” he replied

“Good boi.”

Quickly, I made a call to a friend to book a four-hour appointment.

I came back into the room, "boi, get the black boots with the white laces, and put them on. Lace them as I’ve shown you.

“Yes Boss”, he replied excitedly.

We’re going into town to make some final changes to the way you look. We are going to make sure everyone knows what you are. Tell me again, what are you boi?”

As he laced his boots he repeated his mantra. “I’m a skinhead, BoSS.”

“Yes boi, and after today there is going to be no way back. Now, get a move on and finish lacing those boots because we have an appointment booked.

I watch closely as he ladder laces his new black boots. I’m admiring the skin boi I’ve created. In the next hour he will begin the final part of his transformation. He will stay with me for some time so that I can fully reinforce his skinhead training. When I decide he’s the finished article, I will tell him to go find himself a partner, perhaps a normal lad he can transform into his own skinboi perhaps someone who is already leading a skinhead life.

As I look at my skinboi standing in the doorway, I start thinking about what my next project will be...

#skinhead #ranger boots #shavehead #bleachers

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 3 months

Note

I’m about to graduate law school, and every single day I wonder if I should have tried to make a creative career work first.

I don’t know a word for it either.

I just graduated law school and passed the bar and I’m honestly really good at the attorney thing but every single day I think of a life where I’m writing full time instead.

A part of me still thinks we’ll find our way back around.

#I don’t regret being a lawyer but I think I’ll regret it if I’m never a writer #I can’t want it this badly and not still try for it #life has so much it can fit in it and a part of me thinks I’ll somehow manage to make it with writing #if I ever manage to become the kind of published author that can afford to quit my day job and write all the time instead I know exactly #where I’m going #im moving to a small town in New England with a lighthouse and a shoreline and im getting a tiny house and writing there every day #I can’t have all these words in me for nothing

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luvxkdrama · 1 year

Text

— temptation

pairing : jang junwoo // jang hanseok x reader

warnings : adult content (18+), smut, slight choking, cursing

word count : 1.8k

summary : After joining Hanseok’s team, you end up becoming surprisingly close to him

—

The second you entered the large room, all eyes were on you, however it didn’t intimidate you, on the contrary, the corner of your mouth raised into a discreet smirk.

“Mr. Jang, this is the lawyer I talked to you about, Y/N.” Mrs. Choi introduced you to the tall, brown-haired man which you assumed was the boss, based on his rather dark yet charismatic aura.

“She is way younger than I thought.” He noticed, his gaze travelling all over your body. “Who would’ve thought such a young person carries the title of the best South Korea’s Lawyer.” He admitted, raising one of his eyebrows.

“If I’m not mistaken, you aren’t old either and yet you are Babel’s feared chairman. As you can see success has nothing to do with age.” You exclaimed, sitting down on one of the chairs.

You looked around the room and noticed everyone else besides you and the chairman, standing. Before you could comment anything, Mr. Jang nodded his head at them, as a sign to sit down.

In the corner of your eye, two unfamiliar men sitting at the table caught your attention. You must’ve not really seen them when you entered the room.

“May I ask who are you?” You looked at one of the men whose face had soft surprisingly soft features and dark, sliced back hair.

“I’m Jang Hanseo, the boss’s brother.” He said, looking around the room, seeming uncomfortable with eye contacts.

“My name is Han Seung Hyuk.” The second man spoke up and you gave them both a tiny smile before turning your head towards the chairman.

“Let’s go straight to the point, Mrs. Y/N are you willing to join my team and become even more successful than you already are?” He smirked, waiting for your answer.

“Well Mrs. Choi didn’t really go into details so I still don’t know what I would have to do specifically.” You admitted, leaning into your chair.

“Do what you’re the best at, defend me and Babel if we ever get into troubles. Babel is going to be very soon the most powerful company in South Korea so trust me, you won’t regret working with us.” He said shortly.

“Do you expect me to do anything else than defending, which include crimes and illegal activities?” You cocked your eyebrow, watching Mr. Jang’s lips turn into a smirk.

Thanks to the years of your career, you were able to read people better than books so the second you entered the room, you knew he wasn’t a simple, successful chairman. Maybe it was his dark gaze or his strange aura, you weren’t sure but something was off about him.

“I will be honest with you, Mrs. Y/N. You, personally won’t be involved in anything that goes against the law, you’ll leave it to us.” He said, sincerely not looking fazed by what you said.

“I’m in.”

After a few months, you got to know your team better and you often spent time with them outside of your work hours because their presence genuinely made you feel better. However, there was one particular person with whom you got significantly closer than with the others : Jang Hanseok.

Although, you promised yourself to never get your personal feelings involved in your work, you couldn’t help but feel your knees get weaker at every eye contact you shared with the chairman.

At first, you completely neglected your feelings, actually cursing yourself for acting this way until you started noticing Hanseok acting different than usually. Although he wanted to act indifferent, his body language heavily betrayed him.

Whenever you spoke to him, he’d lean towards you saying he couldn’t hear well, until your lips were practically a few centimetres away from each other.

But even though, you could read people like books, you weren’t a hundred precent confident Hanseok was into you, so you decided to let it slide for the time being.

The first serious charges towards Babel appeared on the internet after a few months since you’ve joined the team. Usually, Hanseok was able to make the articles disappear thanks to his connection but this time the charges were too serious and you needed to take it to the court.

Thanks your unbeatable lawyer skills, you had no issue winning against Vincenzo’s team. Even though they had proofs and witnesses, you predicted each one of their moves and you were able to defend Babel properly.

Once at Hanseok’s apartment, everyone clicked their glasses filled with champagne and celebrated your victory.

“Y/N you were amazing back there, you didn’t even stutter once!” Hanseo noticed, smiling at you.

“The key to success is confidence.” You admitted, comfortably leaning your body into the black couch.

“I have to admit, we would have been in a very bad spot if it wasn’t for you.” Mrs Choi added, sipping champagne afterwards.

“You all flatter me too much.” You laughed.

Everyone talked about the trial yet the person you were expecting to be the happiest among the team, didn’t even spare you a word. Hanseok was sitting on one of his armchairs, seeming lost in his own thoughts.

Midnight eventually came by and everyone decided to head to their houses. You bid your goodbyes to Hanseo, Mrs. Choi and Mr. Han who quickly left the mansion and you were about to put your shoes on when Hanseok grabbed your arm.

You turned around and you felt his his gaze pierce trough your soul. Your breath hitched when Hanseok’s eyes shamelessly stared at your lips, noticing his pupils expanding.

Without a second thought, Hanseok put his hand behind your neck and locked your lips together.

At first, you were in a state of shock, not excepting the evening to take such a 180° turn but you quickly smiled into the kiss, giving him the hint to continue.

“I didn’t get to properly thank you for what you did today.” He whispered, between the kisses. “So let me show you how grateful I am.” He smirked and suddenly picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his torso.

None of you dared to break the kiss and Hanseok eventually led you to his bedroom where he carefully laid you down on the massive bed.

“Properly thank me?” You cocked one of your eyebrows, looking at your boss who was on his knees between your legs.

“If it wasn’t for you, we would’ve lost over 760 million dollars today.” He admitted, slowly leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You couldn’t help but moan at the pleasing feeling of his hot tongue doing wonders on your sensitive skin. His big hands roamed over your body, driving you crazy.

“May I?” He looked at your shirt and one nod was enough for him to rip it open. He smirked as his eyes devoured your body. “Holy shit Y/N.”

You chuckled at his reaction and he quickly took off your pants, only leaving you in your undergarments. His mouth started savouring your chest, progressively going down your body until he was face to face with your private area.

He didn’t hesitate to bury his face inside you which took you by surprise and made you moan his name out loud. Your fingers gripped his locks while his mouth sent an euphoric feeling through your whole body.

“Han- Hanseok” You stuttered, gripping the white bedsheets next to you. A certain pressure started building in your lower abdomen.

“Let it out princess.” His raspy voice sent vibrations on your private area which only made the feeling ten times better.

As his dark eyes met yours, you moaned out loud and arched your back before you ended up coming into his mouth.

“You taste so good.” He hummed, still busy eating you out down there.

Although the pleasure felt like heaven, you started becoming too overwhelmed so you whined, slightly pulling at Hanseok’s hair.

He got the hint and slowly came back to hover above you. His well-built body and big muscles made you feel insanely small under him.

“Is someone tired already, hm?” He ran his finger under your chin and you felt his member pocking your inner thigh trough his pants.

You shook your head and slowly pumped him trough the fabric. He smirked and breathed out at the feeling. After helping him take off his clothes, you made him sit down on the bed with his back against the headboard.

“You’re driving me crazy Y/N.” He moaned when you left a few hickeys on his neck and chest, finally marking him as yours.

After a few minutes of kissing and teasing, you carefully positioned yourself between his legs and sat down on his member, making you both gasp out loud. Hanseok immediately placed his hands on your waist, waiting for you to adjust before helping you move.

“You good?” He breathed out and you nodded, feeling his manhood stretching you out.

Although you had a few boyfriends before him, none of them had such an impressive length like Hanseok did.

Once you were fully comfortable, you started riding him, making both of you moan in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He groaned, speeding up your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder as a way to muffle your loud moans.

“Let me hear you baby.” He whispered, adding hip thrusts to match your movements and at the same time completely rocking your world.

When he saw you didn’t budge your head from his shoulder, he grabbed your neck with one his hands and slightly choked you which only brought you more pleasure. You leaned in and locked your lips together, the kiss being wet and messy.

After a few minutes you felt yourself clenching around his member, meaning you were close.

“Fuck do that again.” He moaned with his eyes closed and his head thrown back. You smirked at how submissive he looked in that particular moment.

His grip on your waist tightened, definitely leaving bruises, yet the pain added more pleasure.

You both eventually came together with loud moans echoing trough the empty house. Hanseok gently laid you down on your side and put your head on his chest, letting you rest. While you were busy regaining strength, he played with your hair and admired your face.

“Let’s go take a bath before sleeping.” He caressed your cheek and picked you up before leading you to the bathroom.

He carefully washed your whole body and gave you one of his shirts to wear in order to make you feel more comfortable. You both eventually fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms, not fully knowing what tomorrow will bring. But none of you two cared. All that mattered at that moment was your presence besides each other.

#jang han seok x reader #hanseok vincenzo x reader #han seok x reader #vincenzo x reader #vincenzo #jang hanseok x reader #jang jun woo x reader #jang junwoo x reader #jang jun woo #jang junwoo #hanseo #jang hanseo #kdrama x reader #kdrama #ok taecyeon

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f1-giuki · 27 days

Note

hey giu it’s wizzz can I request from your Drabble thing, if u feel like: obsessed by Olivia rodrigo, and the pairing is carloscar 👀🍊🌶️

my lawyer will be in contact soon, it is illegal in every country to give such good prompts and make me scream into the void!!!!!!!! THE SONG AND THE THEME AND THE PAIRING IS SO GOOD!!!! i added gratuitous and freaky smut for you 💖💖💖💖 hope you like it darling it ended up being quite long!!💖💖

obsessed - prompt post

“Lando, mate, how was your ex called?” Carlos asks one afternoon.

They’re lazing on the sunroof of Ferrari’s hospitality in Spain. Lando doesn’t know why Carlos brought him there, but he’s not going to complain. He loves the sun on his skin and a tan won’t hurt him.

“Luisa?” Lando answers, absent-mindedly.

Carlos looks at him and furrows his brows. He is sure Lando is lying, but he doesn’t know how he knows. It may have something to do with Charles’ wild party after his first Monaco win. He’s sure Lando told him something about regretting breaking up with someone, he just doesn’t remember who.

“No, last week you said someone else, at the party, remember?” He asks again.

“Shit, Carlos, what have I said? I don’t remember…” Lando says, taking his eyes off his phone and looking at Carlos. The Spaniard is not buying it.

“It was a dude, O-something, I don’t remember the name,” Carlos digs.

“What? Olivia, maybe?” Lando says, going back to his phone and the sun.

“I’m not stupid, and I don’t care if you fucked a guy…” Carlos points out, a bit whiny.

Lando shakes his head and puts his sunglasses on, hoping the conversation will stop soon. Carlos lets the subject drop, externally, but he keeps on thinking about it. He’s not interested in Lando. That bit is sure. He doesn’t like guys, he tried once with Charles and he didn’t like it. If it doesn’t happen with Charles, then everybody else can’t count. He’s just curious. There’s this feeling inside of him that wants to know and get his hands on that specific and deep piece of knowledge about his friend, and he can’t stop.

While Lando is napping under the sun Carlos takes his phone out and starts texting left and right, asking if anybody knows the identity of Lando’s ex. The first ten texts he receives are all disappointing, but the eleventh is something strange. It’s from Max and it just tells him a simple ask Oscar :).

Lando is asleep, so Carlos leaves him there, under the hot sun of Barcelona. He walks down the stairs of the hospitality, greets a few people and steps into the Mclaren building. Nobody questions him, he was family, and he impeded Oscar twice in the latest session of free practice, he can hide behind the falsehood of an apology. He walks the way of the driver’s rooms and spots Oscar’s easily. That was his, after all.

He opens the door, without knocking, and finds Oscar inside, in a comfy papaya hoodie and jeans. He looks like he’s about to leave the circuit. Oscar looks up at the sudden invasion of privacy and raises an eyebrow.

“Well? An apology?” He asks, tiredly.

“Not here for bullshit.” He says and Oscar rolls his eyes. Expected. “Who was Lando’s ex? I’ve been told you know it.” Carlos continues, slamming the door shut.

Oscar looks at him and rolls his eyes to the sky. Again. “What is wrong with you?” He asks, flat and not really interested.

“He told me, I forgot, we were drunk, and he won’t say anything now. You know, so tell me!” Oscar grins, a bit sadistically. He’s enjoying the desperation on the Spaniard’s face. It suits him, eyes wide like a hurt prey in imminent danger. Carlos locks the door as if to prove a point and Oscar laughs. He’s going to have so much fun.

“I am…” Oscar says, simply, looking at Carlos straight in the eyes.

The revelation comes crashing onto him. Oscar. Oscar Piastri is Lando’s ex. Now that’s a situation he needs to explore, map out with utmost care and detail. He must know all about it, he needs to know all about it, he must soothe that obsession of his. And he will do it, but there’s a more pressing problem. A problem pressing against his jeans and straining his underwear.

“Does knowing the fact that I used to fuck Lando excites you?” Oscar asks, with an amused little smile.

Carlos shakes his head but Oscar can see right through him. It’s making him go feral.

Oscar simply sighs. He gets up from his couch and takes the two steps separating him from Carlos. The Spaniard steps back until he’s squished against the locked door. Oscar doesn’t do anything strange at first, he looks into those big brown eyes, and then sinks down on his knees, slowly, keeping eye contact with Carlos.

He unbuckles the Spaniard’s trousers and drags them down against his thighs. Carlos shivers and whimpers pathetically, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He’d like to tell Oscar to stop, to get the fuck away from him, but he can’t. His dick is so hard.

Oscar hooks a finger underneath the elastic band of Carlos’ underwear and drags them down too, breaking eye contact just to look at the dark hair around the base of the cock in front of his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks back up in Carlos’ eyes and starts sucking the tip, implicitly gloating when the Spaniard has to bite his hand to keep quiet.

It’s humiliating, all it takes for Carlos is for Oscar to deepthroat him in one swift motion, and then he’s coming down his throat unannounced. Oscar doesn’t say anything, he milks him dry and then releases him, licking his lips.

Carlos looks at him scared and speechless and drags up his underwear and jeans in one go, as fast as he can, praying to God that he closed the zipper too and that nobody heard him before he leaves, not saying a word.

“Freak,” Oscar mumbles, cleaning cum from his lips with his fingers, as Carlos slams the door open and runs away.

#carloscar #carcar????#carloscar fic #oscar piastri fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 rpf fic #ao3 #carloscar smut #lovely wiz

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cameronspecial · 10 months

Text

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Under Age Drinking, Violence and being alone with a dangerous man. If I missed one just tell me.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Y/N isn’t much of a partier, but the promise of books gets her out of her room. What happens when a dangerous guest feels to make his presence known?

Masterlist

Parties are not Y/N’s definition of fun. They are noisy, crowded, sweaty, smelly and if her brother is the host for the evening, then she always manages to get roped into helping with the disastrous clean the next morning. The only time you could only ever find her at a party is if Lacey and Mason have bribed her with the offer of a free book.

This is one of the times where the promise of a book spree has led Y/N to be in the car waiting for her brother at the liquor store on the Cut that doesn’t card people. She honestly isn’t even sure the store has a license. Marvin and Cassie Y/L/N are away for their yearly couples getaway that they have been going on since the twins were old enough to stay home alone. This year they are in Bali. Marvin is a corporate lawyer and Cassie is a successful author, so it is nice to get some time together, away from all responsibilities. Y/N doesn’t mind being on the Cut side of the island. She is not one to particularly care about the Pogues vs Kooks war.

Mason makes his way back towards the car carrying multiple different bags. He puts them in the trunk and hops back into the driver’s seat. “Did you at least get me some hard kombucha or some sort of seltzer?” Y/N questions. The car starts moving and Mason glances towards his sister, “Of course, dude. I know you. Plus, I feel better knowing that your drinks are in a can. Less chances of someone tampering with it.” “You know, Mace, you are kinda sweet when you are all big brothery,” Y/N teases as she gives her brother a light punch to the arm. Mason smiles at his sister and the car falls quiet for a few minutes with the only sound coming from the radio.

“You know Rafe really is trying to be more friendly to you,” Mason begins to break the silence but regrets it as soon as he sees the disapproving look on Y/N’s face, “Okay well he is kinda trying.” Y/N pauses the conversation to think about how she is going to answer. “Well, he’s doing a horrible job at it. It’s not that I despise him. I just hate the whiplash he gives me with the two personalities he has when he is around me,” she explains. Mason's face turns to confusion, “What do you mean?” “I mean that one minute he is annoying the shit out of me and then the next he does something nice for me. Like the other day with my phone or when we met or when he stole my cookie. For as long as I’ve known him, he has either been caring or a nuisance. Never just simply one or the other. Plus, I don’t love how he treats the pogues,” Y/N complains. “Right,” Mason agrees dully. All he wants is for his best friend and sister to get along.

“It’s also his constant flirting with any female that so much as looks in his direction. Like I get that he’s hot but he doesn’t need to act like he is god’s gift to humankind,” Y/N continues. Mason completely understands what his sister means by that because Rafe is the stereotypical playboy, “Yeah, I get that. Dude, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry him. I don’t even want you guys to be in a romantic relationship, anyways. It would just be nice to not have to play advocate for you guys.”

——

Y/N is getting ready in her room while the boys get the alcohol prepared in the kitchen. “So your sister is coming tonight too, right?” Rafe asks Mason. Although he loves to tease Y/N, Rafe had an ‘only I can mess with her’ type of view. Also, Mason and Rafe had an unspoken agreement that Rafe would always keep an eye on Y/N whenever Mason couldn’t. It is important to both boys that she is safe and Rafe would rather cut off his left leg than let anything happen to his unconscious love. “Yeah. I’m going to be out, like, $200 because of the book spree I promised her but she agreed. “Okay, cool,” Rafe says and even though he tries to sound nonchalant about it, Mason could see the flash of excitement that went through Rafe’s eyes.

He may not like to admit it, but Mason knows Rafe has an interest in his twin sister. However, he wasn’t sure if it was just lust or something deeper and more romantic than that. Either way, Mason is not going to risk his sister’s heart just in case it is the former. With what he saw from his best friend’s dating history, Rafe could never be the right person for Y/N because he has never taken any of his relationships past the friends-with-benefits/hook-up stage.

Yet, Mason couldn’t possibly know what is passing through Rafe’s mind at that exact moment. What is the best way to keep an eye on Y/N without making her feel uncomfortable? How could he make sure that no boys make unwanted advanced toward her? Is there anything he could do to make her safer? Would she wear the carpenter pants that she loves because of all the pockets it has? Or would she wear the new dress she got last week that she was so excited about showing Mason when she got back home? How many different places could he hide her book if she brought one down with her? Could he trick her into drinking beer, which he knows she doesn’t like the bitter taste of? Rafe shakes his head as he tries to get himself out of the rabbit hole he’s gotten himself into.

——

The Y/L/N residence is filled to the brim with Kooks and Tourons lucky enough to be invited by an island native. Music pounds into Y/N's head as she hands out drinks to anyone that asks. She finds it easier to stay in the kitchen and play host than actually try to engage in meaningless conversations.

Her train of thought is interrupted by someone making their presence known to her from behind, “So, Y/L/N, is this your playlist that’s playing because I swear every song just sounds the same and is about breakups.” Y/N ignores the statement made by the taller boy and continues to hand the beer over to the person in front of her. She must be a Touron because Y/N has never seen her before. Y/N feels Rafe approach her as she hands the next boy in line a beer as well.

Before the boy can grab the drink, Rafe reaches over her shoulder and grabs the can out of her hand. “Seriously, Rafe. What are you, four?” Y/N criticizes as she reaches for the drink, “You really aren’t very original you know.” Rafe could’ve sworn he saw, just for a millisecond, a playful look in Y/N’s eyes before it is replaced again with a serious and unamused look. After a few seconds of no luck, Y/N just reaches down for another can of beer and hands it to the intended recipient.

Once the other boy is gone, Rafe finally sets the can down and goes in closer to her so that he is just on the edge of invading her personal space. “So, what books are you going to milk dry from your brother?” he asks as he goes to play with the bottom of her hair but thinks against it. He isn’t sure if it would make her uncomfortable. Little did Rafe know, Y/N thought of a way to get back at him for the teasing. She places her hand behind her back on the counter and grabs the beer Rafe just placed down. She quickly brings her hand back around and shakes the can, then opens it. The fizz dirties both of them, but the look of shock and slight annoyance on Rafe’s face makes it worth it. “Really, Y/L/N,” he complains as he shakes the drink off of his hands. Y/N giggles as she walks out of the kitchen to go change, “Maybe you should start keeping clothes in a drawer in Mason’s room. Like his girlfriend would do.” Before she is completely out of hearing range, Rafe shouts, “I’d much rather the drawer be in your room.”

——

Y/N decides that she isn’t going to return to the party after she finished changing, so she makes her way to the hidden gazebo in the backyard. The music from the party is drowned out and the twinkle of the fairy lights brings her a feeling of calm. She sits in the dangling basket chair put up by her father for her to read and starts to read her book.

She is so entranced by the book that she didn’t notice that Owen Taleman has made his way out to the gazebo as well. His golden brown hair is slicked back and his green eyes hold a dark look. It does not surprise her that he is wearing a full suit to a house party because the uptight man is rarely seen without one. While Rafe typically teases Y/N in a manner that hints at lovingness and playfulness, Owen’s teasing is laced with cruelty and mockery. No one is safe from the entitled prick; not even little children. Y/N is positive she once heard him insult a toddler’s shoes. “Of course, the little bitch reader is hiding out from the party,” Owen mocks as he struts his way toward her.

Y/N may have been a reader and quieter than Mason, Lacey or Rafe, but she is not afraid to stand up for herself or defend herself. “At least I’m not an asshole who can't get my head out of my ass,” Y/N retorts. Owen’s face easily turns red and he gets right into Y/N’s face. The boy towers over her with a menacing look on his face. Y/N normally wouldn’t be nervous, but the fact that she is alone makes her understand the danger of the situation.

Rafe’s eyes flicker through the crowd as he looks for Y/N. He didn’t see her leave her room and when he knocked, she didn’t answer. He begins to get worried as he has a bad feeling in his stomach. He spots Mason going up towards his room with a Touron girl. Rafe threads his way through the people quickly, “Yo, have you seen Y/N?” Even though Mason normally keeps an eye out for his sister, he made sure to give her her space. However, the look of worry on Rafe’s face instantly clues Mason in that something is wrong. Both boys abandon the unknown girl in search of Y/N.

They searched everywhere in the house and concluded that she must have gone somewhere outside. The sight they are met with makes their blood boil. Owen’s face is close to Y/N’s and his hand is curled in a fist, ready to throw a punch. “Dude, you better back away from my sister before I make you,” Mason threatens as he advances toward the pair with Rafe going ahead of him. Owen distances himself a little from Y/N and turns towards the newcomers, “Oh look, it’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I’m surprised you both don’t have your tongues shoved down some whores mouth.” Owen didn’t realize that insulting her brother would anger Y/N into aggression, but he soon would.

Upon hearing his words, Y/N taps Owen’s shoulder and punches him once he is facing her. When he comes back up, Owen’s nose is bleeding profusely and an embarrassed look is on his face. He is definitely the type of person to throw a fit about losing to a girl. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers for this,” Owen yells as he stomps off of the Y/L/N property. “Go ahead, try! I promise mine are scarier!” Y/N retorts.

Owen is out of sight when Y/N finally starts to process what could’ve happened if Mason and Rafe hadn’t come looking for her. Owen is a known hothead. Some could say even worse than Rafe. She goes to get comfort from the closest body to her, which happens to be Rafe. She tucks her head into his neck and wraps her arms tightly around his waist, “I think the adrenaline wore off. I was so scared when no one else was around. I didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders and buries his face into her hair. The smell of her lavender shampoo hits his nose. “You’re okay. We’ve got you,” he soothes as he notices that Y/N began sniffling. He gently runs his fingers through her hair and shifts his weight from one leg to the other to rock the both of them.

Mason is not an idiot. He may have believed his friend wasn’t capable of holding true romantic feelings for someone, but as he watches the domestic scene in front of him, there is no denying the two have some sort of chemistry. Mason could see the concern and love that are in Rafe’s eyes. Mason listens to the soft reassurances Rafe whispers in her ear and sees his sister slowly start to calm down. This is a side of Rafe that Mason has never seen before.

Rafe’s eyes make contact with Mason’s and an unspoken conversation happens between the two. Mason goes back into the house, turns off the music and turns all the lights on, “Dudes! Party is over so get the fuck out of my house! You don’t have to go home, but you have to get out!” Disappointment can be heard throughout the crowd, but they quickly start filing out of the house because what one of the Kook princes wanted, they got.

Y/N and Rafe watch from outside as people start to file out of the house. Most of the people are out of the house by the time Rafe leads Y/N back inside and into her room. He stands outside of her door like a bodyguard while he waits for her to change. She opens the door wearing an oversized shirt and some shorts. The shirt looks familiar and Rafe realizes that it is his Led Zeppelin shirt. She must have taken it from Mason because Rafe and Mason borrowed each others’ clothes enough times that they practically shared their closets.

Rafe feels butterflies in his stomach as he realizes just how much he likes the idea of her wearing one of his shirts. “You know that’s my shirt right,” he smirks as he gets closer to the girl. She scrunches her nose in confusion and shakes her head, “Oh, I found it in Mason’s laundry. And it’s mine now. So you aren’t getting it back anytime soon. It’s comfy.” She wraps her hand around her waist protectively. Rafe slowly makes his way closer to Y/N as if he is approaching a fawn. He gently wraps his arms around her and smiles when she lets him. “I wasn’t asking for it back. You look good in it.” She feels a blush form on her cheeks and turns away from him. She leads him into her room and lies down on her bed. He follows her and waits for her to tell him what she wants him to do. “Can you stay until I fall asleep? I don’t feel like being alone right now,” she whispers as if she is scared of what he is going to say.

Rafe nods his head and pulls her desk chair closer to the bed. He knows Y/N hates it when people wear outside clothes on her bed. She reaches her hand out for his and he takes it. And they just stay there looking at each other while she falls asleep. Rafe traces patterns onto her hand with his thumb. Once he sees she is asleep, he quietly gets up from the chair and goes downstairs to find Mason starting to clean up already.

Rafe starts to help with the cleanup by picking up the solo cups littering the floors. “So you do love her.” He hears from behind him. Mason stands at the doorway of the living room, leaning on the door frame. “Yeah, I do. I know it’s cheesy and unoriginal and probably wrong to say but I think I couldn’t commit to anyone else because my heart knows she’s the only one that can truly make it want to beat faster and stop at the same time. When I’m with her, time goes by so fast but I just want time to stop,” he confides to his best friend. “Right, and what is it about her that makes you like her?” Mason questions still wanting to make sure his friend’s feelings are genuine.

The smile on Rafe’s face says it all, “I don’t think I could really pinpoint what it is. But she makes me happy and I love how she doesn’t treat me any differently because of who I am. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself and she’s the most caring and protective person I know. I mean she literally just punched Owen for me just to stand up for me and she doesn’t even like me.” Mason nods in understanding and resumes cleaning up. “Dude, I’m going to try to set you up with my sister. Now that I know how you truly feel, I trust that you will not hurt her feelings. But if she refuses to go out with you, then you have to promise to leave it at that and stop bothering her okay.”

Rafe gives Mason an unsure look as he thinks the other boy is joking. “Are you sure? I mean I’ll totally back off if she says no once I get the courage to ask. Thank you so much,” he gives his appreciation to his friend. Rafe drops the garbage bag in his hand and runs to hug Mason. “Okay, so the first thing we can do to get you on Y/N/N's good side is finish cleaning the house before she wakes up. Cleaning messes after a party is literally one of her least favourite things when I throw a party. The boys spent a good three hours cleaning the house before they are finally ready to settle down for the night.

——

Y/N expects the sun from the window to wake her up this morning but instead, she is woken up by the soft sound of music coming from downstairs. She quickly hops out of bed and completes her morning routine before pulling Mason’s swim team hoodie over her head. She thought she would see a complete mess as she makes her way to the source; however, she is delightfully surprised to see the house spotless. The girl finds the source of the music in the kitchen.

Rafe and Mason are in the kitchen making breakfast. “Good morning, Y/L/N. We wanted to make you your fave eggs benedict recipe of Lacey’s but we couldn’t figure out how to poach the eggs. So rather, we went with making waffles instead,” Rafe informs her then points towards Mason with a spatula, “Mason cut the strawberries. If you want bananas, then he is getting it ready right now. I also went out to get the fresh whipped cream and hot chocolate you like from that fancy grocery store.” She smiles at the boys and sits at the kitchen island, “Thank you! It smells so good and it was sweet of you to go to the store. Also, thanks for cleaning the house.” Rafe beams at the girl as he slides the cup of hot chocolate toward the girl. He knows he hasn’t done much to get on her good side yet, but he found it amazing that she is always polite, even to people she isn’t a big fan of. He takes the last waffle out of the waffle maker and sets it on her plate. He adds the fruits and whipped cream then gets cutlery for everyone. Once everything is ready for breakfast, everyone sits down and starts to eat.

Throughout breakfast, Y/N kept thinking that Rafe would find some way to tease her. Whether it was about the amount of whipped cream she put on her waffle or the way she let out a satisfied sigh whenever she would take a sip out of her hot chocolate, she prepared herself for the worst. She is proven wrong though. Y/N and Rafe are actually able to have a conversation without fighting. Everyone finishes their breakfast and since the boys cooked, Y/N cleans up for them. “Hey Y/L/N, Mace and I are going to head to the pool to get some training in. Do you wanna come?” Rafe asks her. He is hopeful that she will say yes, except he knows she doesn’t particularly enjoy swimming laps. She looks over her shoulder to him, “No, I’m going to go to the beach. We can meet up for lunch though if you want.” Upon hearing her offer to make plans with him later, Rafe becomes overjoyed at the fact that she wants to spend more time with him. But he doesn’t know Y/N spending time on the beach alone leads to an encounter that will rid him of his happiness and hope.

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks rafe

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Good Neighbors Part 6 (Steddie X Reader)

A/N: I bare you your Steddie crack...I mean content... for the week :). I love reading yawls reblogs and comments on this series lol it provides me much needed serotonin. I love you guys so much!

Warnings: Steddie dynamic and all that that implies (I regret nothing). Fluff in the beginning with readers kiddo <3

Word count: 3180

“Happy Birthday, Steve!” You, Eddie, and Dylan shout as he comes through the door.

“Oh wow. Hey!” You son runs into his arms as Steve lifts him up.

You hold up a cake in front of his face with lit candles. “Make a wish.” Dylan directs him as Steve pretends to think for a second before blowing them out.

“Great. We get Harrington spit.” You smack Eddie’s chest with the back of your hand. “Naw, I’m sure it’s fine. We’ll all inherit slick, shiny hair and a hairy chest.” Steve scowls at him as he sits on a stool by the counter.

“I made the cake! Right, mom?”

You reach up in their cabinets and pull down some plates. “Huh? Oh, yes. He made the entire thing by himself. Eddie and I did absolutely nothing.”, you answer in a playful monotone.

“Yup. Not a damn thing.” Eddie doubles down backing you up.

“Well, thanks, Little Man. I’m glad we got to hang out before you left to see your dad.”

Dylan looks down and moves the cake on his plate around with his fork. Steve sees you and Eddie exchange a glance. “Baby, why don’t you go get Steve his present you got him. I left it in Eddie’s room on the right.” He jumps down and runs down the hallway.

“Charlie cancelled. Said his work was sending him out of town. Of course, Vivian’s going with him.” Your jaw clenches as Steve reaches for your arm, pulling you to his side.

“Did you call your lawyer?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to talk about that today. Today is your day.” You lean down to kiss his lips before you hear tiny feet scurry back towards the kitchen.

You lift Dylan on to the counter as he hands Steve his present. He quickly unwraps it and pulls out a small wood container. On the lid in green was his name painted across the top. The sides had drawn video boxes like the ones at Family Video.

“Did you make this?” Steve asks him and the boy nods, his mouth stuffed with cake. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

“You can put your watch and stuff in it! We did it at school for arts and crafts.” Steve ruffles his hair in his hand.

There’s a light knock on their door and Eddie gets up to open it.

“Hey Kierra.” You reach over to hug her as your son pounces on her from the counter.

“Hey Y/N. Ugh, weirdo! You’re getting too heavy. Hey Steve. Happy Birthday.”

He thanks her as she puts Dylan back on the ground. He runs into the living room to grab his backpack. “I see C-H-A-R-L-I-E bailed. Always a charmer, that one. Alright, so I will have him back around noon tomorrow?”

You nod giving him a big kiss before he waves at the other boys and leaves with your sister.

“He didn’t have to go. I’m sure we could have had fun with the four of us.” Steve rises from his chair, placing the plate in the sink.

“Yeah, but you see Eddie and I had a few ideas for the evening. One of them being that the three of us have never been on a real date. Now you two get changed. Eddie knows where we are going so he SHOULD know what’s appropriate. I will meet you in an hour.” You smile at them as you dance out the front door.

##########################

“This is the fanciest fucking place I’ve ever been to.” Eddie looks up towards the Italian restaurant. Out of habit your hand raises to smack his arm but he reaches out grabbing your wrist without even looking, anticipating your move. “Hey, no kid tonight so I can say fuck all I want.”

“You guys didn’t have to do this, you know?” Steve was still looking over the outside of the restaurant.

Your eyes meet Eddies as he leans down to not so subtly whisper in your direction. “He doesn’t know how to accept good things he deserves.” He straightens up and walks over to Steve patting his shoulder. “You can thank Mr. Harrington for that one.”

“Eddie, stop.” You wrap your arms around Steve’s waist. “We know we didn’t have to but we wanted to.” You let him go as you head towards the front door of the building, your heels clacking along the way. “And if all else fails we can sell the kid to get our money back.”

They both laugh as Eddie runs ahead of you to open the door.

This definitely wasn’t a normal scene for the three of you. Steve would have been ok with cake and pizza. Eddie with a six pack of bottled beer and you putting on a movie Steve liked while you enjoyed the evening. But you guys did things like that on a normal basis. You and Eddie thought this would be the perfect opportunity to go on a nice date night out and try something new.

When you saw them in their suits before you left you knew it was the right choice. As always, they both looked delicious. You had no idea if they coordinated wearing the same style black suit or if it just happened but it worked. The did have different ties though that displayed their personalities. Steve’s was green where Eddie’s was red with a guitar on the bottom.

A couple of nights before, Dylan came with you to the mall to search for a dress that Steve might like. You tried on a few before you found the one you were currently wearing which made Dylan clap in the fitting room. It was a red spaghetti strap that hugged your curves down to a bit above your knee. You found some red heels that had buckles that wrapped around your ankles. Your hair was up in a tight ponytail that bounced from side to side as you walked.

The hostess led you three outside to a table on the terrace. The dinner was absolutely amazing and through the night your eyes struggled to keep focus on one boy at a time. They both looked so happy especially Steve.

“No one has ever done anything like this for you? Ever?”

He shakes his head as he leans back in his chair. “No. Usually I’m the one doing stuff like this.”

You glance at Eddie as he laughs. “Sweetheart, look at me. Who would want to bring me here?”

“I remember once on my dad’s birthday when I was like 7 or 8, we made him this big fancy dinner with a cake and everything.” Steve starts to chuckle. “He never even came home.”

Eddie leans back in his chair as well and chugs the rest of his glass. “Wayne, my uncle, I think he was the only one who actually celebrated my birthday. Growing up anyway. After Steve and I became friends…” They toast their empty glasses to each other, giggling. “Yeeeeeah, we’re going to need more of this.”

It was then that Steve realized how silent you were. He gently taps your foot with his. “What about you?”

“My parents were good about birthdays. Sometimes there would be fights because my dad got us something ‘boy’.” You roll your eyes. “Now Charlie on the other hand. No, forget it.”

“No, hey, I want to hear your story.”

“Steve, it’s your birthday. I shouldn’t be talking about my ex.”

“Hey. That’s right. It’s MY birthday and I want to hear what you were going to say.”

You sigh at his persistence. “No, we never did anything like this. On our first date, we went out of town to this biker bar. Someone spilled their drink on me AND he got punched in the face. In hindsight, I see the red flags.” You swig back the liquid in your glass. “Yeah, Eds, you’re right. We’re going to need more of this.”

“That’s another reason you hate her, isn’t it? Because he doesn’t do shit like that with her.” Eddie kicks Steve so hard under the table that the boy shouts in pain.

“Harrington! Oh my god. And I’m the one who needs to control his mouth.” You giggle at their interaction. “You keep this up and I’m going to tell her not to give you the other present we had planned tonight.”

Steve looks at you with wide eyes and you tilt you head playfully to confirm with Eddie. You get up from your chair and crawl into his lap, kissing his forehead. He presses you tightly to him, gliding his hand up and down your arm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my question.”

“It’s ok, babe. I know.”

Eddie stands from his seat. “Alright, let me go give these people your arm, Princess, and my leg and then we can get outta here.”

#####################

Steve and Eddie are both laying on Eddie’s bed cackling like little kids as they shared a joint. Steve was in the middle as you laid on his other side, softly running your hand up and down is clothed chest while he had his arm wrapped around you playing with your hair.

“Seriously guys. I don’t think I can handle any more surprises.”

Eddie ignores Steve rolling to his side to look at you, gently reaching out to boop your nose.

“You still okay over there?”

You glide your hand into one of the openings of Steve’s shirt and rub his warm skin. “Excited.”

Eddie winks at you before leaning over to kiss your cheek and jumping off the bed.

“What? Wait, excited for what?”

Smiling at his confusion, you grab his cheek, bringing your lips to his. Steve slings his other arm over, holding your face as close to his as possible. His hips turn towards your but you reach down and push them back, undoing his belt with one hand.

“Ay hey!” Steve whines for second when he feels his pants and boxers being tugged down his legs aggressively.

“Eddie! I promise Steve. I’ll smack him if he gets too rough.” You lean up on your knees and swat the other boy’s now shirtless chest.

“I don’t mind rough.”

“Told you.” Eddie grabs your hips pretending to body slam you back on the bed. He reaches behind you to unzip your dress and pull it down your body. “You see, Baby Girl. You forget. I’ve known this man since high school.” As you crawl away over Steve’s chest to his other side, Eddie grabs the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs along the way.

You unbutton the rest of Steve shirt, sliding it down his arms, and throwing to on the floor. You place a pillow under his head, sitting on your knees next him.

“For your birthday, Eddie and I thought we could make you feel good.” A moan leaves his lips as Eddie’s strong hand grips his cock and takes it in his warm awaiting mouth. You lean down and pull the metalhead’s long hair to one side. “Remember Eddie, he’s not exactly like you. The deeper the better. Right, Stevie?”

He licks his bottom lip as he nods. You gently guide his head lower on the other boy’s dick making him gag as spit falls from his mouth. The sound that leave’s Steve’s lips is obscene but you love it. You reach for his hand and glide his fingers through your folds.

“You feel that, baby? Fuck. I just love watching you two play.” Steve reaches his arm around to grab the back of your neck, pulling you down to him. When his lips connect with yours, he thrusts his fingers into your entrance as you whimper into his mouth. “Have you ever kissed him like you do me?” Steve shakes his head, grunting against your lips.

You call Eddie’s name but he is transfixed on his current task. Steve’s fingers slide out of you as you crawl to Eddie, grabbing his face with your hands, and lifting his forehead to yours. His hand continues to rub Steve as he leans in to suck on your neck. You pull both boys till their facing each other. Steve doesn’t give Eddie a moment to think as he grips his jaw bring his lips to his own.

You reached between your legs, circling your clit with your fingers. They kissed each other differently than they kissed you. There was almost a desperation behind it as if this moment had been brewing for many years. You watched as Steve reached down to take Eddie’s cock in his hands, matching the other man’s pace. You could watch them all night. They were so beautiful together.

Eddie’s head turned abruptly at the sound of your moan as Steve’s lips trailed down his neck. The long-haired boy reached for you as you climbed towards him on your knees. His lips pressed against yours as he thrust 2 fingers inside of you, pumping them hastily. The sound of what he was doing to you filled the room. Your body trembled as you came around him, gripping his neck to hold you steady.

When he pulled his fingers out, they were covered in your slick. Eddie smiled as he offered them to Steve who sucked on them eagerly.

“I’ll never get over how good you taste, Princess.”

Steve hums in approval. Eddie moves to the side, rises to his feet, and stands near the end of his bed. He reaches down pumping his cock casually as he waits for whatever happens next. You turn Steve’s head so his eyes lock with yours.

“We were thinking we would try something new and since it’s your day Eddie said you could choose.” You gently rub the tip of your nose against his own. “Do you want him inside of you or do you want to be inside of him?” Steve lets out a shaky sigh of pleasure making you smile.

“I want to fuck him. So fucking bad.”

Your smile grows as you make grabby hands at Eddie. He dives back on the bed, landing on you. His lips find yours quickly, moaning into them as he grinds his cock on the outside of your dripping pussy lips. You both groan as he breaches that barrier and slides easily into your entrance.

After a few slow pumps, he freezes when he feels Steve line himself up behind him. Your pussy clenches around him at the sound of Steve spitting him hand, stroking his cock. He delicately pushes his tip into the boy in front of him and you watch as Eddie’s mouth falls open. You reach up and caress his face as Steve slowly pushes himself further in.

“Eddie, baby, are you okay?” You murmur up to him but all he can do is nod. “Steve?”

His eyes shift to you, glassy and blown out, giving you a small nod as well. Your cunt flutters again at his reaction and Eddie growls as his head falls forward. You push his hair out of the way so you can see his face.

“How does it feel? Tell me, baby. I want to hear you.” Steve bottoms out but remains still waiting to hear Eddie answer you.

“It feels…so fucking good. I’ve never felt-mmmm- anything like this. Move, Harrington.”

Steve thrusts forward slowly, pushing Eddie forward into you, making you both moan.

He tries to set a steady pace but every time Eddie pumps into you he pushes himself back on Steve and this boy had no intention of moving slowly. His hips smacked against yours roughly and Steve finally gave in fully matching Eddie’s rapid rhythm. You tried to keep your eyes open to watch them but it’s difficult.

Steve leaned on top of Eddie’s back, pushing him deeper into you as he leaned over him to reach your lips. You could feel Eddie grunting into your neck. The sound mixed with him being pushed further into your pussy was almost too much. Your lips hovered over Steves, openly panting into his mouth as you came.

Steve wrapped him arms around Eddie’s chest, thrusting into him aggressively, both men chasing their own highs. Eddie felt it before you did. He leaned up on his arms, looking down at you with sweat glimmering against his skin.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” You nod as his head comes down to rest against yours. “I can feel it. You’re so fucking tight with your pussy clinging to my cock. Do you want to cum with him?” Eddie reaches between your legs, circling your clit. Your arms cling around his neck as Steve’s hips begin to sputter and he collapses onto the boy in front of him as he cums inside of him. Watching the pleasure on his face as he climaxed was enough to drive you over the edge and you whimpered into Eddie’s shoulder as the coil snapped.

“Good girl. It’s ok. You’re ok. We’re here. God, you feel so good. Fuck.” Eddie whispered more praises in your ear as his own hips started to faulter. Steve pulled out of him falling on the bed watching you both with his hooded eyes, waiting for his friend to cum. It didn’t take him long after a couple more rough thrusts you felt him release his seed inside of you before dropping flat onto your body.

Eddie rolled onto his back and you reached down lazily to grab his hand, looping his fingers in with yours. You don’t know how long you were both laying but suddenly Steve’s voice broke through the silence.

“I made a bath.” Neither of you opened your eyes to address him.

“Steve, it’s your day. We should be making you a bath.”

“It’s after midnight. It is no longer my birthday.”

“Oh, well then our legs don’t work at the moment.” You giggle at Eddie’s comment and he starts chuckling with you. “I tried, Sweetheart. Holy hell!” Eddie gasped as Steve pulled him to his feet and threw him over his shoulder.

Amused, you followed after them. Steve placed him on his feet and pointed to the tub. “In. Now.” He hears your tiny laugh echo through the bathroom and he gives you a playfully look of warning. You hold up your hands in defeat and climb in front of Eddie, leaning back against his chest. Steve sat on the floor facing you two, trying to help get you clean.

He couldn’t help but smile at the image in front of him. Eddie’s arms were wrapped around your own as you hugged your body. Your head was leaning back on his shoulder with your face turned into his neck, his own face turned slightly towards yours. You both looked so content, at peace.

Your hand reaches out to touch Steve’s arm. “Did you have a good day?”

“I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You smile as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Good. You deserve it. You both deserve to be celebrated.”

#############

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#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn

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