#give me some sugar chapter two | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jyoongim · 3 months

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~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy, blood, murder, secrets

In this chapter: slow build up! Smut! Love-making, Creampie, slight breeding kink

this chapter is VERY long!!!

Chapter one Chapter three

Chapter two

The sound of voices filled your home as the ladies chatted in your parlor.

“Oh honey is that peach cobbler? Why you would think it was Sunday with the spread you made.” Agnise said as you came from the kitchen with the dish and placed it on the dessert table, causing all the ladies to turn to you.

You had finger sandwiches filled with ham, beignets, one too many cakes, banana pudding, sweet tea and lemonade.

You were in a baking mood and since it was just high noon, you kept it lite for today’s meeting.

You let out a laugh “oh it was nothin’. Thought we deserved a treat since the last time we saw each other. We housewives deserve a little sugar sometimes.” The ladies giggled at your comment.

Grabbing a sandwich, you took a seat by Rosie, “Now what were y’all talking about while i was in the kitchen?”

”Abi was telling us the Smiths youngest was found in bed with that scrappy gent that worked down at the mill” Rosie said, sipping her tea. You gasped, hand over your heart “Ain’t that girl engaged to um oh what that boy’s name?” You snapped your fingers trying to think

”David Johnson” Abigail snickered “Just know Old smith threw a fit. I heard her mother went crying to the church shouting. Ooooh must have been real bad”

Agnise chimed in “Also Harriet told me that Elaine is expecting…and it ain’t her husband’s” shocked gasps filled the room. “Elaine? As in love the church, has three youngins Elaine? Oh that poor woman I don’t know how she do it” Rosie shuddered. Abigail smirked “Yeah poor Elaine, so who’s the father?”

Agnise chuckled “Take a guess”

Literally you, Rosie, and Abigail looked to each other puzzled.

”Pastor Brown from the next town over” Agnise said.

squeals and laughs erupted from all of you.

You shook with laughter as you took a deep breathe. “Ok ok enough of that. How have y’all been?”

Rosie was running a boutique, New Orleans finest clothes and it was really taking off. She talked about how some cheap fabrics came in and she ain’t have a clue what to do with them.

Agnise happily chirped about how her two oldest had got accepted in some fancy school on the other of town.

Abigail complained that she thought the maid was stealing her clothes, claiming too many of her fine dresses were missing out of her closet.

”Oh dear how is that handsome husband of yours? I was hoping to the man when I was coming in.” Rosie said smiling.

Rosie and Alastor were the closest besides Mimzy. He often dropped by to have her make your clothes and tailor some of his suits.

”Oh you know how Alastor is” you waved your hand, “he set out early this morning to the radio station. We’re suppose to down to Mimzy’s club tonight”

Agnise and Abigail looked at you shocked “That ol rigity joint? Oh darling no. That man makes good money, why y’all going down there?”

You had met Agnise and Abigail when you were in school. They were a bit more Polish than Rosie who didn’t mind a good time.

”I think that lounge is rather charming. The music is good.” You defended.

”Well enjoy it now, I had a dream bout fishes and you know what that mean” Agnise said, giving you a knowing look.

You blinked, then blushed, taking a sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you feigned dumb.

She smirked, red lips curling “You’ve been hiding news from us haven’t you?”

Abigail looked at you, “Are you?”her honey eyes roamed over your figure.

”Ladies no! I’ve told y’all me and Alastor haven’t discussed children. We don’t have time for that” you said pouting at their accusations.

”What man don’t want his own running around? The two of you been married for a few years now, i had half expected at least something.” Agnise said.

”Alastor has just settled in good as radio host. What kind of wife would I be if I just randomly suggested having a little one running around? No I couldn’t.” You gripped your cup, looking down.

You and Alastor hadn’t really discussed children. You figured you would wait a few years to get settled into your marriage before thinking of children.

With alastor’s career taking off, you didn’t have it in you to just spring the notion on him.

You didn’t mind. It was quite nice not having to clean and look after a baby.

BUT

You did want to potentially have children with Alastor.

The house would be a lot livier and you thought Alastor would make a great father.

”Y’all ain’t getting any younger dear!” Agnise said “i mean unless there’s a another woman invovled”

Rosie let out a hiss, glaring at the woman “Oh shush that! Alastor wouldn’t do that! He loves his wife too much to even look at another woman”

Agnise shrugged.

Abigail patted your hand “Honey don’t listen to her. I am sure you’ll have a whole litter running around afterwhile. Not having children ain’t all that grand.”

You pouted. That did not make you feel better.

Rosie seeemd to pick on up your down mood and interjected

”We came to discuss books! Enough of this husband and children talk! So we left off at Charles securing the mistress!”

The little gathering went on without a problem, but the comments and conversation still bounced in your head.

Alastor wouldn’t seek out another woman just because I haven’t…right?

You and Alastor’s intimate life was fine to your knowledge.

The man wasn’t the most affectionate, but he did try.

He was loving and gave you anything you wanted.

THATS what any wife wanted right?

Not having children didn’t seem to make him any less doting with you.

But you still felt that nagging doubt as you tried to reassure yourself.

”Bye now! Tell Nathaniel I said hello and Abi please just see if the maid took your dress!”you hollered from your porch, waving the ladies as they smiled and walked down the street.

You sighed. Rosie had stayed behind and was cleaning up.

”oh Rosie you’re a guest please let me” you said grabbing the dirty dishes.

”I’ve been here so much this is practically my home girl please.”she laughed as she grabbed the tablecloth and put in in the hamper.

”Those two are certainly a handful. Don’t take what they said to heart. They are just bitter their husbands don’t love on them like yours” she chided.

You hummed. Rosie was right. What did it matter that you didn’t have kids? That didn’t change anything.

”I know Ro but I feel like I’m failing as a wife. But i promise I’m fine I swear” you quickly said as she gave you a look.

She looked at the clock “Oh my well look at the time! Do give Alastor my love dear”

You gave her a hug and walked her out, waving her goodbye as she waltzed down the road.

You were now alone.

The house was quiet and you had cleaned up everything so you wouldn’t have to look at the mess in the morning.

You rolled your shoulders, sighing at the tension and decided a quick nap wouldn’t hurt as you wait for Alastor to come home.

—————————————————————————————————

The sun began to slowly set through the trees as Alastor ran a bloody hand through his hair, the brown strands slicking back as he breathed deeply. The man had put up quite a fight, but luckily Alastor could quickly deal with his little problem.

He had planned to take his wife out for tonight, but with the way he was feeling, he would rather be in your embrace and sleep.

He would stop and get you your favorite flowers as an apology and maybe cook for you instead. A soft smile appeared on his face as he imagined your face as he came in with flowers and kissed your soft lips as he propose hell cook for dinner.

Soft jazz would be playing and after the meal he would ask you to dance. Peppering your face in kisses as you laughed at him, thinking he was silly.

And maybe afterwards, he could indulge himself in you. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of your face contorted in pleasure.

Oh yes he was sure you wouldn’t mind why he came home late

He hid away his shovel in an old storage house and changed clothes.

Getting in his car, he hummed along to the radio as he thought of what to make for dinner.

—————————————————————————————————-

Alastor softly closed the back door as he slowly set down the flowers and groceries. He peeked his head in the parlor and found you sleeping on the couch.

He quickly made his way upstairs, hid his clothes in the back of your closet, showered, and went back down stairs.

He grabbed the flowers and slowly slid beside you, pulling you into his lap.

You snuggled into his neck, eyebrows scrunching, waking up ”hmmm Alastor?” you groaned as he snickered. He pressed his lips to your plump cheek “Seems my darling wife had a very long day. Seems I got caught up at work and didn’t catch the time. But…” he pressed the flowers to your nose as you took a deep inhale of the flowers, smiling “I do hope you would forgive dear.”

Your heart fluttered at the man, standing to put the bouquet in a vase.

You caught sight of the time and gasped “oh no! I can’t believe I fell asleep for that long, lord on high I ain’t got a single thing out to cook.” You went to make your way to the kitchen, but Alastor was quick to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his lanky frame. “Don’t you worry about dinner darlin’ I got it. I had promised you a night out and forgot. So to pay for my offense Ill cook dinner and why don’t you go upstairs and put on something pretty for me hmm?” He pressed a few soft kisses along the column of your neck, making your breath hitch slightly, before patting your ass to get you moving towards the stairs.

Once you made it back downstairs, the smell of dinner made your stomach growl.

Alastor was just setting th plates as you entered the kitchen. “Book club must have been something today, I see you baked a lot of goods today. Good thing I checked before thinking of making dessert” He turned to actually look at you.

Gorgeous is what he thought as he took you in.

You opted for a simple slip dress that fell just before your knees. How enticing.

You accessorized with your pearls and even had your hair curled slightly.

He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bring a hand to his lips, kissing it as he looked at you with utter devotion.

”My my don’t you look lovely dear” he whistled, twirling you around slowly.

You blushed and looked towards the stove “Dinner smells great Al, what did you make?” He ushered you to the dining table and pulled you chair out for you to sit before fetching tonight’s dinner.

Shrimp and grits in one bowl and jambalaya.

For dessert he took a piece of butter cake that you made earlier and chilled sweet tea and lemonade.

You moaned in delight as the flavor of the jambalaya burned your mouth. “Oh Al! You added a bit more spice this time but it goes good with the grits. oh i love your jambalaya.” You praised him.

You practically danced in your seat as you ate causing Alastor to chuckle.

”I never tire of your praise for my mother’s recipe my dear. I must say this cake might just be my new favorite” he said.

You decided to fill him the latest gossip you heard today from the ladies

”Rosie sends her love by the way. Oh you would not believe what Agnise told us today…” you started.

Alastor had a lazy smile on his face as you talked animatedly about todays gossip. He nodded along and even gasped at the details you shared. You made him swear he wont repeat it anywhere, including on the radio.

You took a sip of lemonade ”Agnise made a comment that she was surprised we haven’t had kids yet. Can you believe that woman?” Alastor tilted his head “I wouldn’t put it pass that one. Well what did you say?”

Alastor asked taking in your reaction as you pouted, swirling your fork in your grits before stabbing a shrimp. You sighed “I told her that we just weren’t ready. I mean you just got settled in at the studio good. Then the nerve of that woman to say that you were probably seeing another because I wasn’t putting out.” You mumbled that part, feeling pinges of doubt start to rise in you as you looked at him.

Alastor scoffed “darling I only ever had eyes for you” he reached across the table to grasp your hand, thumb fiddling with your wedding ring. “Nothing will make me look at you different. To me, you’re perfect. You are much more than I could ever deserve” he smiled at you. “Do you want children darlin?” He asked.

You blinked, a warm blush crept up your cheeks “I-I mean it might has crossed my mind once of twice, but I-I dont know” you looked away, feeling shy.

Alastor grinned “I think you would make a wonderful mother my dear. Through I will admit having to share you i dont know about that” he laughed “buuuuut if having children will make you happy, who am I to say no?” His voice dropped an octave as he smiled at you.

You were shocked. You hadn’t thought that Alastor would be open to having children. But you didn’t just want to have kids because of social pressure. You wanted it to be something you were sure of…

”Its a big responsibility if we have children Al”you whispered. He hummed, shrugging “Dear I make more than enough that our children will have comfortable upbringing, besides Ill be there the whole step of the way”

That reassurance made your heart swell.

You smiled, a soft laugh bubbling out of your chest “Then I guess well see what happens then huh?”

You finished dinner, Alastor leaving the dishes to soak and you giggled as he dragged you upstairs. “Alastor! Hahaha dont you have work tomorrow?” You entered your shared bedroom and squealed as he lavished your exposed shoulders in kisses.

He groaned in response as he unbuttoned his shirt as his hands gripped at your hips.

”what do that have to do with us delving into the throws of pleasures darlin? Its been quite some time since I’ve paid you proper attention.”

Your back hit the duvet as he situated himself between your thighs. Your dress bunched at your hips, exposing your lacy garter. His hand toyed with the fabric, lips curling in a smirk “Were you planing to seduce me dear?” You shook your head as you curled your arms around his neck, pulling his head to meet his lips.

”Hmmm lets keep the pearls and garter on” he grinned down at you.

”Nngh! Ah! Ah! Ha! Ah! Oh god!”you cried out as Alastor thrusted into you. Your fingers gripped at his hair as you moaned into his neck, kissing over the red bruises forming on his skin.

Fingers flexed on your thigh, keeping your leg pressed into your stomach. The only sound that filled the room were your sweet moans and his soft grunts and the slap slap of his dick burying into your cunt.

Alastor’s back muscles flexed as you raked a hand along his back, groaning as your nails left burning trails into his flesh.

”One more. You can give me one more can’t you darlin?” He asked huskily as he snapped his hips into yours.

Your body buzzed as your third orgasm approached. The pearl necklace that hung around your neck, bounced with your breasts as Alastor nipped at your neck. One of his hands crept up your chest to play with one of your nipples. Tugging and pinching the perk peak as your cunt clenched around him.

”I can’t wait to see you pregnant ma cher. All nice and round, carrying my child.”

A sharp pinch had you whining “These lovely tits of your full of milk god I can’t wait to taste it” his head shifted to your chest, his warm mouth taking the mound into his mouth. Teeth and tongue teased as his thrusts picked up pace.

”A-Al! Oh! Oh! P-Please!” You threw your head back in pleasure.

Alastor couldn’t help but let his twisted feelings take over, a hand wrapped around your throat, applying slight pressure as you whined.

He brought his face back to yours, nose brushing against yours as your swollen lips enticed him to suck and bite at them. He maneuvered both your thighs to be pressed against your stomach, giving him leverage to hammer into you soppy heat.

”You want me to give you a baby darlin? Hmm? Want me to fill the needy cunt of yours and spill my seed into you?”you moaned, eyes glazed with lust.

Alastor smirked “Use your words baby. C’mon” a harsh thrust made your toes curl.

”y-yes please please Alastor give me a baby!” You cried.

A wild look was in his eyes

“Oh ill give you all the babies you want. I’ve wanted to see you swollen with my child since our wedding day. You’ll look so pretty baby. All filled with my cum and swollen. Yeeesss what a lovely sight you’ll make”

His thumb worked tight circles on your clit as your back arched into him as your orgasm ripped through you. Alastor slammed his lips on yours to swallow the loud moan that tried to spill from your lips.

He grunted as his hips shuddered. Chasing his orgasm as he rode yours out. With a hiss, his dick twitched and soon warm cream painted your gummy walls.

With a sigh, he coaxed his tongue against yours as he gave you a few more soft thrusts.

Panting and flushed, your legs fell limp as he pulled out and smirked at the mess he had made of you. A white stream slowly pooling out of you.

Spent and feeling the blissful afterglow, you curled into the covers, wincing at the stickiness between your thighs. Alastor pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead “normally Ill clean you up, but since were trying no need.” He brushed a curl out of your face as you began to fall asleep

”Alastor?” You said tiredly.

He hummed, as he ran his hand up and down your arm, admiring the red bruises on your neck and shoulder

”I love you”

He grinned as you dozed off.

”I love you too dear”

———————————————————————

Soooo what did you guys think??? Bit of a slow burn yes? we got a peak into what Alastor was doing hehehee

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x wife reader #human alastor x reader

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wandanatsgf · 3 months

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Sugar, Sugar Part 1

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Authors Note: I've been reading so many sugar mommy!wandanat x reader fics that I wanted to make one myself. I know the beginning is a bit rough, but I'm just trying to set everything up. I promise it will get better!!!! There will also be plenty of smut in the upcoming chapters, this is just a warning for that now. And I plan on making many parts to this. I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 2

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you dramatically exclaim. You drape yourself across the old and slightly musty couch in your small two person apartment. Your work uniform rides up your body a little as you lay down, which you quickly pull down, covering yourself again. You pull your right arm over your eyes, trying to block out the light and the horrible day you just had.

Your best friend and roommate Kate laughs sympathetically at your dramatics. “I know getting fired sucks but there’s tons of ways to make money.” She moves your legs and sits down next to you, placing your legs on top of her.

“Like what?”

“Well you could mow lawns, dog sit, babysit, just until you find another job,” Kate suggests.

“I guess I could but I just don’t know if that would be able to cover my bills and let alone rent.”

“Well there is another thing you can try.” The tone in Kate's voice has you sitting up, removing your arm so you can look at her.

“You remember my friend Darcy that I told you about?”

“Yeah the super rich, successful one.”

“Well when she was in college she was a sugar baby,” Kate says before she cuts herself off to scold you. “And y/n don’t give me that look just hear me out!”

“Ok fine, keep talking.”

“Well she got a whole bunch of money from it. She was able to pay off her student loans and she had some money leftover that she invested and y’know now she’s rich and super successful and hot and amazing. But that wasn’t the point.” Kate shakes her head at herself, scolding herself for getting off topic like she always does. “Anyway maybe you should try being a sugar baby.”

“I don’t know Kate.” Sure this would be a great opportunity for you, if you find someone that is, but do you really want to use your body to get money?

“You could just look and see what’s out there. You don’t have to accept any sugar daddy or sugar mommy proposals,” Kate says and you’ve got to admit that she’s got a good point.

“Ok what the hell,” you say, agreeing.

“Let me just get the sugar baby app name from Darcy and we can do this.”

A few minutes later the app is downloaded on your phone. You feel nervous but also excited. This could be a way for you to not have to worry about money, at least for a while. Maybe it would be nice to be taken care of.

“Ok it’s downloaded, let’s set it up.” The two of you create your profile and pretty soon you’re looking at sugar mommies and sugar daddies.

“What about this one?” You ask Kate. You pass her the phone, and from the look on her face you can tell that it’s a no go.

“Definitely not,” Kate says, her nose wrinkling up in disgust.

“Why not?”

“I know you, and that’s not what you want.” You have to admit she is right, you don’t really want some 50 year old with a penchant for “parading his girls around” as he called it, but you’re desperate and he is the best looking person on there so far.

You continue to scroll through the men and women, none of them really catching your eye until you see the profile of a beautiful red haired girl and an equally beautiful auburn haired girl. You would recognize their faces anywhere, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the owners of the country's best security company.

“There’s no way this is real,” you say. “This has to be some sort of joke or something.” You pass her your phone and watch as her eyes go comically wide.

“There’s no way the Natasha Romanoff and the Wanda Maximoff are looking for a sugar baby,” you say. You practically scoff at the idea, but there’s still that little voice in your head that wonders if maybe the profile is real.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Kate says. She still has your phone in your hands and you watch as she types, until finally she stops.

“Katie what did you do?”

“I just messaged them,” Kate says innocently. You glance down at the message and it says, “Hi my name is y/n and I’d love to get to know you both and see if I’m what you’re looking for ;),”

“Did you have to add the wink Katie? They’re gonna think I’m like a whore or something now,” you whine.

“Oh relax you big baby. It’s fine. And besides maybe a whore is what they’re looking for,” Kate says, giving you a wink.

“Kate!” You exclaim. You lightly slap her on the arm.

“Owww y/n. You’re very feisty for such a tiny person.”

“Serves you right,” you mutter underneath your breath. The two of you continue to scroll through the app when you see a notification pop up.

Natasha and Wanda had replied to your message.

“Oh my god,” you say. You can feel yourself freaking out, even when you’re going into the texting part of the app and opening the message.

“Hi darling, we’d love to get to know you more too! We’re Natasha and Wanda, we’re both sugar mommies who are looking for a sugar baby to share. We work quite a bit, but we promise that we’ll still have time for you if things work out between us. Can’t wait to hear back from you,” the message reads. You show the message to Kate who responds with excitement.

But you can feel yourself freaking out on the inside even more now. However your doubts from earlier creep in and calm you down. There’s a big chance that this is just a catfish, but you still want to take the chance. Who wouldn’t want an opportunity to be with Natasha and Wanda?

“Help me come up with a response,” you tell the girl sitting next to you. After a few minutes of back and forth, the two of you come up with what you think is the perfect response.

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I’m y/n, a sugar baby who is currently in college trying to pay off my loans. I normally have plenty of time on my hands and would be able to be around whenever you need.”

You cringe at the last part of the message, which was all Kate’s idea, but clearly it worked because a few minutes later you have a text inviting you out to get some coffee tomorrow afternoon and you say yes.

“You have to come with me though, just in case it’s like a catfish or something,” you tell your best friend.

“Of course, I’ll sit in the cafe and just text me if you need me,” Kate says reassuring you.

The next day comes too quickly and before you know it you and Kate are sitting in the cafe waiting for Natasha and Wanda. You’re sitting at a table in the back, while Kate is sitting at a table across the room from you. The minutes seem to drag on forever, making you even more anxious than you already are. Everytime the bell above the door goes off, you glance up, hoping it’s one of the girls walking through. You’re just about to lose hope when you see Natasha and Wanda walk in. They look so breathtakingly beautiful.

“Hi Y/n,” Wanda says, being the first to greet you. She towers over you as she envelopes you in a hug, which you gladly reciprocate.

“Hi,” you say back. It comes out quieter than you meant it to. You can feel your cheeks heating up, but gladly both women ignore it.

“And hi I’m Natasha,” the red haired girl says. She also towers over you, but you like that about the two women. She also envelopes you into a hug. She smells like vanilla and smoke and it gives you a sense of comfort. The three of you sit down and the two women get straight to the point.

“So as you know we’re looking for a sugar baby,” Natasha says, her voice a low tone. “We just wanted to meet with you today to go over some things and see if we’d get along,” she explains.

“Ok that sounds good,” you agree.

“Have you ever been in a dynamic like this before?”

“No I haven’t,” you say, your blush coming back. You can feel your nerves getting worse as well as you fidget with a ring on your hand.

“It’s ok to be nervous baby, we won’t bite,” Wanda leans in to tell you. She places her hand on top of yours, stopping your fidgeting. She places her hand in yours, which you gladly hold.

“That’s alright, we’re pretty new to this too. But there are a couple of things we wanted to go over today. First, when do you have class?”

“Well Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have class until 11am, but besides that my days are wide open.” This answer makes Natasha smile, which in turn makes you smile.

“What is it that you need help with?” You appreciate that Natasha is getting straight to the point, it’s doing wonders at calming your nerves.

“Mostly rent and some bills. I, uh, just lost my job and it’s been hard to stay afloat.”

“Well that won’t be a problem now that we’re here,” Natasha tells you, sending you a wink. The action sends a blush across your face, turning it a shade of pink.

"I know this isn't exactly normal," Natasha says, "But we promise if today works out, which I think it will, we'll take care of you darling." Natasha's words make you smile. Normally you were never so shy around people, but the two women next to you really bring it out in you.

“Do you have any questions for us honey?” Wanda asks.

“Yes actually. What is it exactly that I would be doing?”

“You would keep us company, go to some company functions with us, and,” Natasha says, her voice dropping low as she says the next part, “have sex with us when we want it.”

“But obviously we would work up to that part,” Wanda adds cheerfully.

“Ok,” you say, taking all of that information in. You knew going into this that sex would be on the table, but it shocks you that these two beautiful women are wanting to do it with you.

“I’m sorry if this is a weird question, but aren’t the two of you together? What exactly do you need me for?”

“Yes we’re together sweetheart, but we’re not the most compatible in the bedroom.”

“What Wanda means is that we’re both pretty dominant and we need someone submissive to fulfill our needs,” Natasha says. Wanda slaps her on her arm and lightly scolds her, making you giggle.

“I can do that,” you say, letting both of them know that you want this. The thought of being submissive for both of them stirs a longing within you. You can feel a slight dampness in your panties and you cross your legs, hoping Wanda, who is still holding your hand, doesn’t notice. But of course she does.

“You already feeling a little needy, baby?” Wanda whispers, her cockiness coming out of nowhere, but god does it turn you on. Her lips ghost on the outer shell of your ear, causing your breathing to become ragged.

“Mhm,” you manage to get out.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy. I can’t wait to see just how needy I can make you,” Wanda says. She leans away from you, but not before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, making you go pink.

“Don’t kill the poor girl Wanda,” Natasha scolds.

“I can’t help it, she’s just so cute,” Wanda says, like you aren't there, which just turns you on even more.

“Yeah she is,” Natasha agrees.

You don’t know what to say, too absorbed in your own lust, when Natasha speaks again, snapping you out of it.

“Here are our phone numbers,” she says, slipping you a piece of paper. You take the pieces of paper and program their numbers into your phone and you give them your number and they do the same.

“We’ll text you tomorrow to work out the details and set up a contract, assuming you still want to do this?” Wanda questions.

“I do,” you reassure her.

“Then we’ll talk to you tomorrow, detka,” Wanda says. The two women get up, both hugging you goodbye. You watch the two women walk out, having forgotten that Kate was also at the cafe until she comes up to you.

“Oh my god,” Kate says.

“I know,” is all you say.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get two sugar mommies.”

#wandanat #wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sugar mommy!wanda #sugar mommy!natasha #scarlet witch x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #wanda x reader smut #natasha x reader smut

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unholyhelbig · 4 months

Note

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanov x reader #natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Mafia au #Mafia Boss Natasha Romanoff #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Bishlova

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savingcrxws · 11 months

Text

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes.

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant.

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table.

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.”

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch.

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?”

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call.

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption.

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you.

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut.

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation.

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man.

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere.

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid.

Absolutely not, apparently.

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath.

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge.

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear season 2 #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfic

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macfrog · 11 months

Text

lend me some sugar cowboy like me chapter eight

look. i had an idea, i couldn't rest until i wrote it. enJOY part 8 of cowboy like me - check out my masterlist here!!! ALSO the lovely @wildcat116 created a playlist w some of my fave dbf-inspired songs which you can give a listen right heeerreee love u all sm hope u like this gargantuan chapter

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel throws a homecoming garden party for sarah – and decides to make it one to remember

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) i honestly don't even know where to start with this one UHH age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, slightly jealous! slightly possessive!joel n also jealous!reader, sexting, mutual masturbation, phone sex, teasing, very semi-public ✨ activities ✨ involving a beer bottle

word count: 10.1k (lmfao)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.” Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot. “S-sweeten…your…b…” Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you. “Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

“No, no, no, hey, baby – don’t change the subject. You didn’t answer my question,” Joel says, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around like a maniac’s in midair. “What – is – a garden party?”

Your dad is chortling in the passenger seat.

“If you’d stop interruptin’ me!” you yell from the back. You’re leant forward, head and shoulders between the two of them. “It’s, like, well…drinks, and food, sat out on the patio in the nice weather–”

“Sounds like a barbecue to me!” Joel roars, much to your dad’s delight.

He claps his hands together once and snorts with laughter until he’s out of breath. “That Sarah of yours has you wrapped around her little finger, Joel.”

“She says, ‘I’m too old for a barbecue’. I said, ‘Too old for meat on a grill?’ How do you get to be too old to eat steak cooked on a grill?”

You roll your eyes with a sigh, slumping back in your seat and looking out the window at the buildings sailing by. You’re on your way to Costco to pick up supplies for this barb– garden party Sarah’s requested from Joel. He’s not too impressed by the thought of it.

Your dad’s talking about some client of his who threw his daughter a quinceañera on a yacht off the coast of Florida, for some reason you don’t care to listen to. Joel doesn’t, either. You see his eyes watching you from the rear-view mirror, clocking your expression.

When you turn to fully look back, his eyebrows raise, a question: You okay?

You raise yours back. Whatever.

He breathes a laugh, then plays it off to look like he’s laughing at your dad’s story. The truck pulls in to the parking lot.

By all accounts, your dad shouldn’t trust you and Joel alone together half as much as he does. But when the three of you get out of the car – Joel opens your door for you – he takes off to grab a shopping cart.

You and Joel take the opportunity to meander slowly toward the store. You haven’t had much time as of late to hang out, get some much-needed attention from him, jump each other’s bones. Sarah’s return means one more person to run lies around, one more obstacle stopping you from having precious free time with each other.

More than all of that, you just miss him. Miss the way he talks to you when no one else can hear, the way he reads your mind and gets it right – annoyingly – every damn time.

He loosens his elbow, offering you it, and you snake your arm through it.

“Garden party,” he scoffs. “I sure am glad I have you to keep me right.”

“We’ll make it nice for her,” you reply. “She liked the banner and balloons, right?”

He laughs. “She sure did. Facetimed her roommates to show ‘em off.”

You take a few more paces in silence, the gentle breeze sifting through your hair. It’s nice, just wandering with Joel. His warm arm hooked around yours, safe, steady. You feel you could lean into him and let him guide you along like the wind, all trust in his capable hands.

Then your dad rattles over toward you guys with a squeaky-wheeled cart and fucks it all up.

Joel, ever the casual one, slowly unlinks your arms. He ain’t got nothing to hide. Just being chivalrous to his buddy’s daughter.

“Where to first?” your dad asks.

“Wish I knew.” Joel strolls inside, and you follow, heading into the chilly store.

Joel decides the easiest – and quickest – way to get this shopping trip over with is to split up. He takes decorations, your dad offers to grab some of the food, and you’re left with drinks.

You mosey down the aisles with your janky cart squealing every time you turn. Under fluorescent lights, you spot shelves of soda and make for them, dodging a half-empty cage of stock someone’s emptying.

There are so many brands and flavors it’s actually kinda intimidating, and you wish you had Joel here to tell you which ones he wants. That, and also to reach them for you. The Dr Pepper is on the top shelf, and even though he’d probably tease you for not being able to reach first, his tall form would pull down a crate in one swoop without you even having to ask.

“Oh, let me get those for you!” a voice calls from behind, and you swivel around to see a kid– sorry, a guy in a Costco uniform rushing over from the other side of the aisle. The sides of his strawberry blonde hair are shaven, longer on top, gelled back. Round cheeks, flushed bright pink.

His equally pink arms reach up and grip a crate, pulling it from the shelf.

“Could you please…grab me one of the lemonade, too?”

“Sure thing,” he says.

“Thanks.” You smile as he lays the second carefully in your cart.

“No problem. You new around here? I recognize a lot of folks, never seen you before.”

His name badge reads Zack. It suits him, you think.

Your hands are locked tight around the cart handle. He’s not doing anything wrong, but you still feel awkward. You rock softly from side to side, answering, “Nope, lived here my whole life. Well, that’s not entirely true. I lived in New York City for a few years for college.”

“New York, huh? What’s that like?”

“It’s…good. Kinda place you gotta experience to really…experience, I guess.” You nervously scratch your arm.

“I’ve love to hear more about it. I went to college for, I think, two semesters? And dropped right back out. Wasn’t for me. Are you…Sorry, I’m not tryna be forward. Are you…with anybody?”

“Oh, I, uh…”

Right then you feel the air stop short at your side and notice Joel out of your peripheral vision.

“Hey, you found ‘em,” you say, barely above a whisper, looking at the packs of paper plates locked inside his tight knuckles.

He tosses them into the cart on top of your soda, looking down at you over your shoulder.

“You found drinks.”

“Yep.” If the ground could swallow me up right about now, that’d be great.

Zack shuffles on his feet, looking from you to Joel. He looks panicked. You bite back a laugh.

“Thanks, son.” Joel’s voice is muted, toneless, and he takes the cart straight out of your grasp in one sweep, a quick nod in Zack’s direction.

You don’t move, instead hang back to give the assistant a grateful smile and tell him, “We’re in a bit of a rush. Party’s tomorrow.”

“Wow, well, have fun!” he replies. As you swing off to follow Joel, Zack hops along after you, tapping your shoulder.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

“Naw, but she caught yours, Zack!” Joel yells. Emphasis on the K.

“See ya,” you whisper.

“Makin’ friends, are we?” Joel mutters as you catch up to him.

You lightly hit his bicep. “I couldn’t reach the soda.”

“Poor baby.” He pets his lip. You smack him again, but your stomach floods with heat. Joel doesn’t make note of it. “Need your help pickin’ out a tablecloth,” he says.

“A tablecloth? What’s so hard about a tablecl–”

You round the corner and Joel nods ahead, to where an entire wall of party supplies sits. On the shelves, piles of paper plates, cups, and napkins, and on the pegs above, bags, tablecloths, confetti, cutlery, banners, and bunting.

“Oh…”

“I was thinkin’ that pink one with the stars on it.” Joel nods to the left, finger scratching his nose, where a baby pink sheet lies, white stars all over. You try to mask your frown.

“No?” he asks, looking over at you tensely.

You tilt your head back in his direction. “It’s just…she made such a big deal about bein’ too old for a barbecue. If she’s too old for a barbecue, ain’t she too old for…”

“Pink?”

You flash him a gentle smile. “I reckon she’d like that one.”

You point to a white tablecloth, decorated with metallic gold dots.

“So, no pink, no stars. Gold polka dots are fine?”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Keep me right,” Joel whispers, leaning over to take the packet from its hook.

“Got some nibbles,” your dad’s voice yaps as he joins you two, dumping a dozen bags of candy, chips, and what looks like half the snack section into the cart. He sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “We all done?”

“Just gotta get some platters,” Joel replies, pulling a handwritten list and pen from his back pocket and glancing down it.

You lean over to check it out, smiling at his haphazard handwriting.

Cups

Soda

Plates

Tablecloth?

Balloons

Food

Cake

He draws a line through soda, plates, and the tablecloth.

“You gettin’ a cake?” you ask him.

He replies without lifting his eyes from the list. “Next door neighbor’s doin’ it. She has a bakery in town.”

Your dad’s over by the bunting, studying it all with his hands clasped behind his back.

You lower your tone, leaning in closer. “Neighbor, huh? She cute? She single?”

Joel tuts and gives you a dead-eyed stare. “Might be. Not sure.” He tilts his head. “Why don’t we give her Zack’s number?”

You raise an eyebrow and take the cart from his hands.

“We’re done, Dad. Deli’s on the way out,” you tell Joel, and he follows at your heels.

You didn’t take Joel for a man who spends ten minutes deciding which food platters to buy, but when it hits two-thirty and he’s still standing with his chin between his fingers, you sigh.

“Is it this big a deal?”

“I imagine it is; it’s Sarah we’re talkin’ about here.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, seeing how determined he is to make it perfect for her. It’s cute, alright? Who would’ve thought Joel Miller would concern himself so much with deli platters?

“Quit that,” he tells you, not even looking in your direction.

“Quit what?”

“Your starin’. Give us away.”

Your hand comes up to shove him and he grabs it, looking over your shoulder to check your dad’s not looking when he pulls you close to him.

“Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”

You raise your eyebrows, smug grin on your lips, and his eyes dance down your body.

He suddenly lets go of you and you realize why seconds later when your dad’s heavy arm smacks down over your shoulders.

“We done, Joel? There’s this show on National Geographic about sharks I’m tryna catch.”

You roll your eyes at Joel who hands you an amused grin, then places a couple of platters into the cart and leads y’all to the checkouts.

“I’ll take the cart back, get you both at the truck.” Your dad makes off, janky wheel squeaking off to the front doors.

Joel shakes his head in his wake, as bemused by him as you are. You smile Hello to the cashier.

“How are y’all today?” he asks.

“Good, thanks,” you reply, watching Joel’s thick arms hold the crates of soda up to be scanned. He’s tensing, veins lining his tan skin. You could bite into him, you’re so needy. It’s only been a fucking week.

The red light flashes across the barcode with a beep and he settles the drinks down to grab his wallet.

You glance around as he pays. From over Joel’s right shoulder, a familiar set of buck teeth approaches. You avert your gaze, swerving to hide between Joel and the counter.

“I’m goin’ on my break, Tom!” Zack’s voice rings out, and you feel Joel’s chest shift around your shoulder.

“You got the bags?” he asks, casually. Unbothered.

“Mhm,” you reply, not achieving the same level of coolness as he did. Your voice quivers as your eyes scan for Zack, hoping he won’t catch you.

Poor guy. He was friendly enough. Just, you happen to think Joel’s friendlier.

Even if he notices you, you’re already being swept out of the store by Joel, both crates of soda and the platters on top in his arms; a feat that might’ve killed Zack in the soft drinks section. You wander off together back out into the burning heat, eyes squinting in the sun.

Your dad is stood in deep conversation with someone by the cart return, a man with a balding head and blue jeans that you don’t recognize. “I’ll be over in a minute,” he tells you both as you pass, “work stuff.”

Joel loads the truck and you jump in the back.

“You not gonna sit up front with me?” he asks, turning back to you.

“And make my dad sit in the back?”

“Punishment for holdin’ us up.”

You raise your eyebrows and climb over the front seat, sitting in place next to Joel. His hand reaches over and cups your thigh. You like it, feeling like this is your spot. Right next to him. Co-pilot. Captain of the radio.

You probably don’t like the same music Joel does, though.

You bring a hand down to lace through his, fingers intertwining between your legs.

“So, Zack?”

You lean your skull against the headrest and glare up at the roof of the car. “I have no idea. He was just talkin’ to me.”

“He seemed to like you.”

“I’m very likeable.”

“Did you like him?”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? He look my type?”

Joel gives half a shrug.

“Don’t get all jealous,” you mutter, turning to check on your dad.

“Jealous,” Joel repeats, with a scoff.

“Uh, ‘She caught your name, Zack!’” You echo Joel’s rough inflection, emphasizing his Texas twang, stressing the K the way he did.

“That wasn’t jealousy, baby,” he says softly.

You huff, looking away and crossing your arms.

“You want me to be jealous?”

“No.”

Yeah, you do. It was kinda hot.

Joel’s smirking, you can see it from the corner of your eye.

“I…want you to be…It was hot when you…Well, I…It’s more that…In a word, I’d say–”

Joel’s hand squeezes yours, letting go and sliding slowly up your thigh. Your ears are throbbing with blood rushing when he finally stops just shy of your underwear.

“Got it,” he whispers.

Your eyes drift from his hand up to his expression. If it weren’t for the sweet smile he was giving you, you’d call him arrogant. But his warm expression, the way his head is tilted against his seat to look at you, really take you in, the upturned corners of his mouth…

It’s just as well your dad hauls the truck door open when he does, before you can throw yourself at his best friend.

“I’m in the damn back then, am I? Assholes,” he murmurs as he – struggles to – climb up into his seat.

“Blame your daughter,” Joel chuckles, hand reaching around the back of your headrest to reverse, “huh, Trouble?”

You open your mouth to clap a reply back, but your dad interrupts.

“Trouble?” he asks, brow cocked.

You spin around to watch his face contort in confusion.

“Who the heck is Trouble?”

“Your kid. Always causin’ it,” Joel says.

“Is she, now?”

You cast a look at Joel, out of sight of your dad. Are you fuckin’ serious?

He grins in return, driving off out of the parking lot.

----------

Joel had dropped you guys off on the way home from Costco. You’d wanted to stick around for a few minutes after your dad had hopped out of the truck, but he was relentless.

“Let Joel head off, he’s got a busy evenin’ ahead,” he’d insisted.

Joel had given you an apologetic glance as you unbuckled your seatbelt and followed suit.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’d quickly kissed the back of your hand as you bid him farewell.

When Sunday rolls around, you spend the morning checking in with him, asking how the party’s looking and receiving photos to judge his decorating skills.

You: Not quite as good without my input, but it’ll do

Joel: Nothing’s quite as good without your input.

When it’s almost time to go, you’re still in the mirror making sure your outfit is perfect for Joel.

Perfect for the party, you mean.

You adjust the strap of your green dress, pulling the floral fabric over your bra. Totally innocent. Just a nice summer dress.

With slutty lingerie hidden underneath.

You’re only wearing it to fuck with him. You know that. Nothing is gonna happen at a fucking garden party. But your eyes flit across your body, trying to get into the mind of a forty-eight-year-old, watching the tops of your thighs as the wind lifts your skirt…

You unlock your phone and your thumb dances over the text thread with Joel. You’d taken some pictures before you’d slipped the dress over yourself, honestly just ‘cause you thought you looked hot, but now that the idea’s in your head…you might as well.

You: Does this lingerie say ‘garden party’?

You hit send and shut your eyes tight until you see stars, blindly throwing your phone to the floor and pacing back and forth. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was that that was so stupid he’s totally gonna laugh at you you loser he’s–

It doesn’t take long for your phone to vibrate with Joel’s reply. You dive for it, grabbing it with a swoop of your arm.

Joel: Slutty garden party, sure.

You snort. Dick.

You: Like it?

The typing indicator pops up, then disappears, then returns. Three dots blinking at the speed your pulse is racing. Type quicker, old man.

Joel: I prefer what’s underneath it.

Your chest shudders with a sudden inhale. Your face begins to heat. A terrible idea has crossed your mind.

You’ve never been one for sexting. Not much, anyway. Certainly not on an actual message thread. Snapchat, sure, where the messages disappear from both your screen and your mind as soon as you’re done. But never somewhere there’s recorded proof.

It’s kinda hot. Having evidence of you and Joel. Pictures and messages to look back on.

So, you lay back on your bed and spread your legs. Hook a finger around the elastic of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose your – already glistening wet – folds.

You lower your phone, snap a couple pics. Play around, spread your lips, take more.

Then you send one.

Fuck it, right?

You: Sounded like you were missing it…

Your phone’s ringing within ten seconds of hitting send. You pick up and Joel’s calling out to someone.

“–right back, ‘m just goin’ to change.”

Sarah replies something you can’t make out, and Joel sighs.

“Naw, it’s just not very…I wanna look right for it. You look great. Just– I’ll be right back.”

You giggle quietly into the phone. “Excuses, excuses, Miller…”

“The hell are you doin’,” he hisses, bedroom door closing in the background, “sendin’ me that without a warnin’?”

“I did send warnin’,” you protest. “You must’a guessed when I sent the first one what the second was gonna be?”

Joel sighs and you giggle, laying back on your bed. Your hand returns between your legs and you whisper a moan, fingers sifting through soaking folds.

He goes quiet for a second.

“You playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Feel good?”

“Yup,” you reply.

“You want me to make you cum over the phone?”

Your breath shudders and your chest heaves. Every damn time, he blows your cool every damn time.

“Uhuh,” you whimper. “’m so fucking wet.”

“Yeah? So needy, baby. Got yourself all riled up, haven’t you? Need me to fix it for you, take it away.”

You moan.

“You still wearin’ those little panties?”

You hum in response. He knows it’s a yes.

“Take ‘em off.”

“Joel, I’m leavin’ in–”

“Off.”

You obey him, dropping the phone onto your bed beside your ear and raising your hips, elastic of your underwear sliding over your pelvis and down your legs. You drop them to the floor and your hands resume position.

“Good girl,” he says, hearing you moan when your fingertips meet your clit again. “That better?”

“Mhm,” you croon.

He hisses, says, “Yeah. Gonna fuck yourself for me, pretty girl?”

You whine a Yes, and hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his jeans. His voice echoes, bouncing off what you assume are his bathroom walls, when he tells you to slide a finger inside yourself. He lets a breathy sigh pass his lips, and you know he has a fist around his cock.

Your fingers dip inside your opening, collecting your slick and rubbing it up and down, soaking your clit before they return to your cunt and slip inside. You gasp, the stretch too good to keep quiet.

Joel murmurs another Good fuckin’ girl, and you can hear his soft panting. It drives you insane.

“Joel,” you whisper, “want you here.”

“I know, darlin’, I know.”

“Want you to f-fuck me.” Your swollen clit ruts against the base of your palm, the bone rubbing it so fucking good, and you squeeze your eyes tight shut.

“Soon, baby, promise,” he tells you, his hand pumping his cock, the sound of his precum coating his shaft floating through your cell into your ear. “Keep goin’, pretty girl. Bein’ so dirty for me, so fuckin’ good.”

Your back begins to arch, his praises and the sound of him jacking himself off pushing you closer and closer, warmth and pleasure flooding through your body from your core.

Joel speaks again through a strained voice.

“Wanted to fuck you yesterday,” he says, “so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

Your breath halts, cutting short in your throat.

“Wanted to,” groan, “sh-show that fuckin’ kid who you belonged to.”

You breathe a laugh laced thick with arousal. “Who I b…belonged to?”

You’re enjoying the thought as much as he is. Joel fucking you senseless in front of anyone who looks twice at you. Showing them that only he can make you feel good, only he can make you cum the way you do. The thought causes a whimper to escape your throat.

“That’s it, baby. You like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine.

“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

“’m yours, Joel. Fuck. Fuckin’ – yours.”

You’re whispering his name over and over, adding a third finger, imagining it’s his cock fucking in and out of you.

“So – close – baby,” he’s grunting, and you sigh in agreement. You’re writhing around on your mattress, legs wide open, hands pumping in and out and rubbing circles all over your sensitive cunt, wishing it was Joel all over you.

He’s moaning now, quietly humming down the phone to you, and it starts to undo the knot in your stomach. Your walls clamp around your fingers, hand begins to slow on your clit, and you utter his name before you fall silent, throat closing up as you climax.

The sound of your orgasm sends him over the edge right behind you. He groans, your name on his lips as he climaxes, repeating it over and over. You’re still coming to when he quietens, moans staggered, breathing heavy.

“Good?” you ask, fingers massaging yourself after your high.

“So good, darlin’,” he whispers, “did so good for me.”

You smile at his praise. Did so good for him, like you always do. It sends your head spiraling.

You dip your soaked fingers in and out of your soft cunt, lying in the bliss a little while longer, listening to Joel do his jeans back up and fix his belt.

He must figure what you’re up to, because he lifts the phone back to his mouth and says, “Tell me how you taste, baby.”

You don’t even think twice. You slip your fingers from your dripping cunt and suckle on them, moaning into the phone for Joel’s benefit. He lets out a low growl.

“Sweet as sugar,” you tell him, and he hums.

“Hey, hon?” your dad’s voice snaps you back to reality.

You’re not on some different plain with Joel’s voice purring in your ear. You’re not in private. You’re laying on your bed with your legs spread, Joel on speakerphone.

Your legs slam closed and you sit up straight, shushing Joel, who’s chuckling quietly into your phone.

“Yep?” you reply, voice shaky. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss down the line.

Your dad pushes your door open as you stand, straightening your dress.

“Ready to go? I don’t wanna be late for Joel.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“He will. C’mon.”

He closes the door over when he leaves. You tug your panties back on and bring the phone up to your ear, speakerphone now safely off.

“Do you? Mind?”

“’s long as I get to see your pretty little face, I don’t care, baby.”

You smile. Then you think it over.

“…but you’d prefer I was there on time, right? Y’know, so you can spend more time with me?”

“Uhuh. Sure. More time with your ass, too.”

“Alright. That’s nice. See, you just ruined what could’ve been a really sweet moment. How romantic, Miller. Once again, your dick gets the better of you.”

Joel laughs. “Ain’t that what this whole thing is? My dick getting the better of me?”

You gasp, offended. “And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality.”

He scoffs. “Will you just get in the damn car and get your ass over here?”

You’re fixing yourself once more in the mirror; there can be no signs of what just happened.

“I’m cominggg…” you drawl.

“Good girl. Bring that personality of yours, too.”

You snort and hang up without saying goodbye.

Your dad is stood at the bottom of the stairs as you march down them, legs still a little weak.

“Sorry, kiddo, I just don’t wanna be late. Joel’s wantin’ us there first, and Rita will be waitin’.”

Your brows furrow in response. He elaborates.

“She’s comin’, too, I’ve to give her a ride.”

“Sooo…we’ll arrive at Joel’s around midnight? Just checkin’, so I can let him know. Y’know, she likes to take it slow in the car.”

“Ha-ha. Funny. Get your things.”

“Can I take my own car? We can race, see who gets there first.”

Your dad sighs. “How am I s’posed to explain that to her?”

“Just say Sarah wanted me over early.” You cock your head like a begging puppy. “Please?”

He nods, exasperated, and waves a hand toward you. “Go on, get. Take that salad, will you?”

You sit the ceramic bowl on your hip and skip to the front door, belting it into the passenger seat before heading for Joel’s.

He’s out back when you arrive, platter of food in his hand. He looks casual, like he wasn’t cooing you through an orgasm, like, twenty minutes ago.

“Hey, cowboy,” you call from the patio door.

He sets the platter down on the tablecloth you picked out and strolls back toward the house, hands taking your waist as soon as he’s close enough.

“Your dad here?”

“Nope,” you whisper, “he’s bringing Rita.”

Joel dips his head and presses his lips to yours, rocking you back and forth. You giggle against his mouth.

“Dress is nice,” he murmurs when he pulls away, your foreheads together.

“Oh, you should see what I have on under it.”

“Already did,” he whispers in a cocky song, and you laugh again into his kiss.

His tongue sneaks past yours, and you squeal when his hand drops to squeeze your ass under your short skirt.

“You’re gonna make me drop this salad!” You bat his smirking ass off of you to set your dad’s handiwork safely on the table.

The moment is broken by the sound of Sarah’s voice from the hallway. You both split apart, Joel heads back outside while you walk over to the fridge to grab a soda.

“Welcome home banner’s slipped, Dad,” she yells out the window, and Joel gives her a thumbs up. Sarah rolls her eyes and turns to you. “Hi, you!”

“Hey,” you reply, giving her a toothy grin. “Soda?”

She reaches a hand out and you pass her a Coke.

“I have never seen my dad so stressed,” she snickers, can to her lips.

“Me either. You don’t wanna know how long he took to decide what to get from the deli.”

Sarah silently wanders through to the living room, beckoning you to follow. You glance up at the streamers still hanging from the ceiling, the slanted banner above the TV.

You throw yourselves down on the couch and she rounds on you.

“So…?”

“So?” you say, taking a sip of your soda.

“What’s been goin’ on? We haven’t properly caught up yet.”

You shrug. “Not much. Workin’ at Sal’s, loving life. What’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, come on. You really got no news for me?”

“What news do you want?” You snort, lifting the can to cover your flushed cheeks.

Sarah shrugs. “I dunno, boys? Gossip? Drama?”

“What are you, thirteen? Thought you were a big Cali girl now.”

She tuts.

You sigh, conceding. “No boys, no drama happenin’, and the most gossip I know is Anna called in sick last week and then Sal’s niece saw a picture of her on Instagram at some house party. ‘s all I got.”

Sarah looks unconvinced. She smirks. Her eyes thin, only for a second, but you catch it.

“How’s your dad?” she asks after a tense stare-off.

“Fine,” you reply. “He’s bringing Rita.”

“Aw. I’ll miss ‘im, then. Won’t be here ‘til sundown.”

You giggle into your can, “That’s what I said, dude.”

Joel shuffles into the room then, making for the banner. Your eyes track him as he leans over the TV, strong arms reaching up to fix it into place. He grunts as he pushes the pin back in.

“Need a hand, Dad?”

“Nope,” he replies, “’m good.”

Your chest tightens as the memory of the last time that banner was pinned into place floods your memory. Sat atop Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into you when he set you back down. Then, him fucking you on the couch, right where your legs currently lie, Sarah’s draped over them.

And here he is, able to reach it all by himself all along.

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling flushed.

“You good?” Sarah asks when you sit up straight, fanning yourself with your hand.

“Is it hot in here?”

Joel turns, eyebrows raising.

“Crack a window, Dad.” Sarah’s fanning you now, too, wafting a magazine in your face.

He moves for the window and slides it open, pulling the shades back in attempt to get some airflow.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, hand on Sarah’s wrist. “I’m fine.”

She lowers the magazine and stares you down. “Are you pregnant, or something?”

Joel chokes, clearing his throat over by the window, and you bat Sarah’s leg.

“No, idiot! It’s just hot. You’re not hot?”

Sarah flicks her hair over her shoulder, chin lifting. “I’m very hot, actually.” She stifles a laugh at your expression. When she leans over to set her soda on the table, you shoot Joel a look.

He raises his hands in surrender silently and heads out of the room, reminding you guys that the party starts in twenty minutes.

“You like your decorations?” you ask once Joel’s gone.

Sarah’s eyes widen and she nods. “I heard you had a thing or two to do with ‘em.”

“I was creative director.”

“He’s so cheesy, ain’t he?”

“He just loves you. I think it’s cute.”

“I’ll bet you two got into, like, six arguments while you were puttin’ them all up. Right?”

You blink rapidly, trying to clear the memory from your eyes in case she reads it. “Nope. None. No arguments.”

You’re thankful when Joel’s front door pushes open and you hear Rita calling down the hall for Sarah, who jumps up and skips to meet her. When you follow, Joel’s in the kitchen doorway, watching you carefully. You know he heard every damn word, from no arguments to you thinking he was being cute.

You ignore him as you brush past, smug smirk on his face.

The backyard slowly starts to fill with more and more people as the afternoon goes on, sun rising higher and higher into the sky. Sarah is swept off by a small wave of school friends, all nineteen, none of whom you really know. One of them asked if you were her sister, and you choked on your drink before Sarah snorted and said, “No, dumbass, she’s my dad’s best friend’s daughter.”

They’re standing like a flock of seagulls over by the pool, shrill giggles piercing the air every ten seconds. Taking selfies, updating Instagram stories. Oh, to be nineteen again.

Being a senior citizen of twenty-three means, unfortunately for you, that you spend most of the afternoon tailing your dad and his buddies. At the food table, slowly depleting of the snacks your dad had practically raided from Costco, you’re witness to a conversation between him and Bill about the housing market.

“…I mean, if she wanted to get a place of her own,” your dad waves a hand in your direction, “how’s she meant to do it? What are they doin’ to help the younger generations get their foot in the door, hm?”

Bill’s shaking his head. Looks like vexation, like he’s agreeing with your dad, but you’ve a sneaking suspicion he’s just pacifying him.

“Maybe you’re better headin’ back to New York, after all, hon,” your dad says, and you raise your eyebrows, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Missin’ it yet?” Bill asks.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Was nice being around people who were into the same stuff as me. But I like being home.”

He nods, looking back down at the pool, sunlight gleaming off the water in ripples.

“She’s got plenty to keep her occupied,” your dad snorts. “Me ‘n Joel keep her right.”

You bite back a laugh. If you only fucking knew.

Bill chortles. “Joel Miller, keepin’ someone right? Now that’s a sight I’d like to see.”

You look over to him, pretending to laugh along, but your brows drop in confusion.

“Ah, they’re close, y’know?” your dad says. “He looks out for her. Think he keeps her on the straight and narrow better ‘n I do, these days, doesn’t he?”

“He, uh…Yeah, sure.” You can barely look him in the eye.

“Tell you what,” Bill twists around to grab another fistful of nuts from the table, “there ain’t nothin’ the good Southern air won’t fix. I notice a difference in you, this time around, kid.”

“Yeah?”

He nods enthusiastically, cheeks full. Still chewing, he says, “Oh, yeah. Hell, you used to come home for Christmas or whatever, ‘n it was like you were bored. Miserable. No offense, don’t take that the wrong way.”

You scoff. “Which way should I take it?”

“Now that you’re back here for good,” he continues, not hearing you, “‘s like someone switched a light on. Doesn’t she seem brighter?”

Your dad turns to survey you and eventually nods. “You happier here, kiddo?”

You shrug, mumble an, “I dunno.”

The men laugh. Bill gives you a clap to the back and strolls off back inside, leaving you and your dad alone.

“Why didn’t you ask that– that boy along?”

“Who? Sam?”

He nods. “Remember you had that date scheduled– I mean, not-date?”

You narrow your eyes. “I don’t think this is his scene.”

“Garden party not macho enough?”

You shake your head in bewilderment. “Macho?”

“Who’s macho?” Joel’s gruff voice sounds from behind.

You swing around to tell him, “Nobody,” and he shrugs, cheeks full with the sandwich he’s just thrown in his mouth.

“Nice,” you muse. “Very garden party of you.”

“Right?”

You smirk, peeling back the wrapper of the cupcake on your plate.

“Those,” Joel leans in, smirk on his lips, voice low, “were made by Nat.” He nods over toward the patio doors, where a blonde woman in a long purple dress stands, chatting to another of Joel’s neighbors. “Remember I told you she was makin’ a cake?”

You turn back to face him, narrow eyes set on his. He smiles innocently, and you can’t help but return it, butterflies tickling your stomach.

“Damn good cake it is, too,” your dad mumbles from your side. “Try some, hon.”

You lift the cupcake to your mouth, never letting go of Joel’s gaze, and run your tongue along the pink icing, collecting it all on the tip. Joel doesn’t move. He’s watching your lips.

Your teeth sink into the soft cake – it is fucking good, though you’d never admit it to Joel. He’s having far too much fun watching you; any more inflation to his ego and he might explode.

“Hm,” you run your tongue over your top lip, “tastes alright. But it’s pink. Sarah’s too old for pink.”

You throw the cupcake back onto your plate and roll your eyes.

Joel scoffs. Entertained. Nice job, kid. “Here,” he says, “you got some icin’ on your–”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, licks his thumb and wipes it along the edge of your lip, collects the icing, then slots it back between his own, and sucks it clean.

Right in front of your fucking dad.

You’re honestly about to mutter a sincere thanks when you remember he’s standing right at your elbow, watching the whole thing. Watching his best friend run his wet thumb across his daughter’s mouth and then taste her on his tongue. Like it’s nothing.

Joel realizes halfway through what he’s doing and yanks his thumb out of his mouth a little too abruptly, nodding at you as if he’s just been courteous. He clears his throat when his arms are back by his side. “Uh…”

Your feet are heavy against the patio. You feel like your limbs are stuck in place, save for your hands, which cause the paper plate locked between your fingers to tremble.

“Th…Thanks.”

It’s all you can muster up the courage to say. You can feel your dad’s eyes on your shoulder like the sun burning your skin.

“Yeah. No problem.”

You stare between the two of them, unsure who’ll break first. Unsure if either of them will, or if you’ll have to cave and say something.

A swish of fabric against the back of your calves jolts life back into you and you hear a soft voice in your left ear.

“See you’re enjoyin’ the cupcakes, then?” she hums to Joel. Your stomach tightens.

“Uh, yeah, they’re, uh…real good, Nat. Thanks again. We were just sayin’ how good they are, weren’t we?” He holds a hand out, past you, to your dad, who nods along. You start to back away.

Joel can tease you all he wants about his next-door neighbor and her pink cupcakes, but you’ve truly never felt more grateful to have another woman approach him and take some of the heat off of you. In a blur of embarrassment and the tiniest sliver of thrill, you take off into the house.

Bill’s in the living room with a couple other men, watching something on TV. You flash by the door and straight upstairs, where it’s quiet, empty. You lock yourself in the bathroom, head immediately falling into your hands.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms.

Your pulse is racing, face flushed with color and heat, embarrassment seeping all over you. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he even thinking?

It’s not unlike Joel to do stupid stuff like this just to mess with you when you’re alone. But you know, from the look on his face, from how speechless he suddenly got, you know he didn’t mean it. You know that, right now, he’s probably outside, still being pestered by that lady Nat, feeling the exact same as you are on the inside.

You steady your breathing and crack the window, peering through the sliver of light. Your dad’s still by the snacks. You can hear Nat resuming conversation just below you, out of sight by the patio doors. Where is Joel?

You pull the window open a little more, and crane your neck to scope the entire yard. There, by the pool, Sarah’s friend is stuffing as many marshmallows into his mouth as he can, while the rest video him, hysterically laughing.

You notice a flash of flannel by the work shed and spot him; making his way down a stone path between some bushes. Rita’s on his arm. Good. Means he escaped your dad without much damage done.

You rinse your face over with splashes of cold water, check yourself in the mirror, and head back out. A roar sounds from the living room as you round the bottom of the stairs.

“I didn’t know bowling was so fuckin’ excitin’!” Bill yells.

You slip through the kitchen, drowned in golden sunlight, and back outside. Nat shifts to let you by her and you smile gratefully, her purple dress sweeping across your legs again.

You follow the path behind Joel’s shed, up some steps and dip your head beneath the greenery. It’s obvious what he’s been up to since you and Sarah left; he’s good with his hands. He’s landscaped most of his yard; starting behind the work shed is a small, private pathway which leads to a secluded patio, decorated with potted plants, shrubs, and two wooden chairs. It’s out of view from where the rest of the party are, but you can look down on pretty much everyone from here.

Rita and Joel are in conversation when you round the corner and his eyes lock onto yours.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets you, so casual you almost forget what just happened. The man is so fucking cool, it almost riles you.

“Thought I saw you guys wander off.”

“Oh, honey, here, take my seat.”

“No, Rita, really. I’ll sit on the arm of Joel’s.”

You lean back onto the wooden arm, thighs dangerously close to Joel’s hands. He flinches as you settle, like he wanted to put a protective hand over your leg, and then remembered your company.

“Nice garden party, huh, Rita?” you chirp, eyes flashing across Joel’s face.

He shakes his head, knocking your leg with the back of his hand to tell you off.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. Fine day for it, too.” Rita looks up to the clear sky. “Only the best for our Sarah. I’m just keepin’ Mr. Grump company over here.”

“Mr. Grump?” you snort, looking from her to Joel.

He sighs. “I am not bein’ a grump.”

“Are too,” she replies flatly, and Joel turns to stare at her.

“It’s hard work hostin’ so many people, alright?”

Rita chuckles, giving his arm a light slap. “He’s all the way over here to escape the party,” she tells you, sweet smile on her face.

You return it, saying, “That doesn’t sound like Joel at all. He loves people, don’t you?”

Joel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.

The three of you sit quietly for a few minutes, Rita relaxing in the warm summer air, shade from the trees keeping her cool. You, too close for comfort to Joel, breaking out in a sweat with the need to talk to him about the cupcake incident. And Joel, almost looking bored, right arm on his armrest drawing shapes at the small of your back.

You could fucking scream.

“Well, honey,” Rita eventually says, “since you’re here, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. You help me up?”

You carefully pull Rita to her feet, and she shakily wanders off back toward the rest of the party, waving a hand and telling you not to let Joel out of your sight. You take her seat in her absence.

“Arm not comfortable?” Joel asks, eyes on the party.

“Huh?”

“I said, arm not comfortable?”

“Not as comfortable as a whole chair.”

“Hm.”

You mock hum in response. “You want me back on the arm? You that needy, baby?”

He looks at you. His tongue in his cheek. “Nah, want you on my lap. But arm is less obvious.”

His words knock the wind out of you, but only for a few seconds. You’re getting good at not swooning at every sexual reference this man makes. You’re also getting shamelessly good at responding to him, matching his energy.

So, you stand, and, while checking nobody’s watching, shuffle over. Back to Joel, you lower yourself down onto his thigh. Swing your head around to look him in the eye.

“Better?”

In reply, he takes your waist in one hand and shifts you so you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him. His knees facing north, yours west.

“Better,” he confirms.

Your brows furrow. “What are you–”

“I thought it over. You ‘n that Zack boy.”

“Wouldn’t say he was a boy, was probably my age–”

“That Zack boy,” Joel repeats. “Him chattin’ to you, asking you about New York. Wantin’ to know if you’re single.”

How much of that conversation did Joel hear?

“He was just–”

“Makin’ conversation? Nah. He was into ya.”

“Well, if you say so. So, you thought it over?”

“Uhuh. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“About what?”

“About walkin’ up to find you bein’ chatted up by some loser.”

“Oh, ouch, Joel. Zack’s feelings are hurt.”

The corner of his mouth trembles, holding back a laugh. Then he leans in.

“I don’t like to see anyone with their eyes on my girl.”

His girl.

Something inside you stirs. Something between your legs…tenses.

“Your…”

“You think that was nice? The way he was lookin’ at you? You think he wanted to be your friend?”

You stare at him, mouth agape. No words bubble to the surface.

“Nah, baby. He wanted you the way I want you. The way I have you.”

“You…have…And how is it you have me?”

“Sat on my lap, pretty little mouth wide open, wet enough that I can feel you through my jeans.”

He leans back in his chair, and you watch him wordlessly.

Your breath stammering, brain struggling to compute, you mumble, “What are you gonna do with me, then?”

“Hm?” he tilts his head.

“I said, what are you gonna do? With me?”

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot.

“S-sweeten…your…b…”

Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you.

“Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

He takes the bottle and uses it to part your legs, before sliding it under your dress. You watch like you’re not even inside your body, just a passenger to Joel and his movements. All you know is you want him to do whatever the fuck he’s about to do.

The lip of the bottle pushes your panties aside, and you feel it line up at your lips. Joel looks up at you then with a question in his gaze.

You stare at him a few moments longer, and he lets you. He knows you’re taking this all in, even if it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He lets you take your time with your answer.

You nod, breathless. Do it. And he pushes up.

Your fingers immediately lock around his wrist, the beginnings of a moan escaping your lips. Joel tuts softly, wrist never stopping, just slowly inserting the bottle, neck gliding through your wet folds to your center.

You’re gasping, still holding onto him to steady yourself, coming back to earth only momentarily to check nobody’s nearby.

“Ain’t no one comin’, sweetheart,” Joel coos in your ear, “I’m watchin’. Just you enjoy.”

When the bottleneck fills you up, he pulls it back again. Your eyes begin to roll at the feeling of it dragging out of you. Your head cocks, body going limp. Lips seal shut, trapping a whine.

You rationalize it with three things. First off: nobody can see you here, not from down on the patio. Second: even if they could, Joel’s watching. And thirdly: you don’t give the slightest of fucks.

Joel and his ideas, Joel and his fucking ideas, forever pushing any other thought out of your head and replacing it with a want to please him, a need to do the things he asks of you. Forever washing away all your good instinct, leaving behind only the ache between your legs and the lust behind your eyes.

Joel starts fucking you – really fucking you – pumping the neck of his bottle in and out of your cunt. You’re doing everything not to scream out. Your hand grips tighter on his wrist and he smiles, looking down to the sight of the pair of you working together, fucking you together, chasing your high together.

“Liked it when I touched you, didn’t you,” he breathes, wrist jacking, “liked when I put my hand on you in front of everyone.”

“Did you like it?” you ask, head lulling, eyes folding shut. Legs opening wider just a fraction. Back beginning to arch.

He laughs. “Yeah, I liked it, baby.”

“Then I liked it, too.”

You like it when he talks to you. Like picturing the things he’s saying. The shock of Joel’s thumb on your lips. The desire you felt to part them and suck on it, right there and then.

Then, a twisted thought crosses your mind.

“Did you…did you like…oh…did you like N-Nat comin’ up…to you?” you whisper as Joel pushes the bottle deeper.

He growls, teeth locking together in some weird grimace of a smile. “Who’s jealous now, baby?”

You smile, head falling back. The sky is bright and blue and it burns your eyes to look, but then, your whole body is aflame.

You know he doesn’t care about anyone else. Know you’re the only one he wants to be doing this stuff with. But you’re there now, so might as well follow it through.

“You don’t– Fuck, Joel, fuck…You don’t think she’s…h-hot?”

He hums. Considers it. “Who’s sitting on my lap gettin’ fucked right now, pretty girl?”

“M-me,” you wobble, grinning.

“You,” he agrees, and pushes the bottle further.

You start to feel dizzy, the blood pumping through your ears deafening you. You place your hand on Joel’s knee to steady yourself as your legs give, cunt dripping everywhere. You can hear it, can feel it.

“Joel,” you pine, “’m close.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joel’s purring, lips pressed against your ear. “You can cum, baby, I got you.”

Your hand comes up to grip the collar of his shirt – you’d worry about it looking suspicious, but your mind is somewhere else entirely as the pressure between your legs starts to unravel at rapid pace. It all becomes too much too quickly, and you can’t stifle the sounds from your lips any longer.

Your legs clamp shut, knuckles whiten, pussy throbs around the neck of Joel’s beer bottle. You cum for him for the second time today, quietly whimpering as his free hand rubs your hip, coaxing you back to earth.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes, “good girl. All over it, darlin’, that’s it.”

“Joel…” you’re panting, orgasm bearing down on your body.

He’s still lulling you through it, whispering words you can’t make out into your ear, lips pressed against your hair. He slowly slips the bottle from between your legs and sets it on the armrest, replacing his hand on your bare thigh.

It’s fucking covered in you. Your wet runs down into the beer, slick coating the outside of the neck. You can’t take your eyes off it, can’t fucking believe what’s just happened.

You take a deep breath of the sweet breeze, Joel’s arms around your waist, rubbing you gently. You lean down and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

A few minutes pass, couple songs on the stereo go by. Your hands toying with one of his, your breathing steadying against his chest. Joel mumbles into your hair.

“Your dad’s lookin’ for us.”

“How d’you know?” you mutter into his shirt, eyes closing over.

“That’s the third time he’s gone in ‘n out of the kitchen.”

“Maybe he’s just hungry.”

His chest jumps once with a laugh and he sits you both up. You stand wearily and Joel holds onto your hand as you slink back into the chair by his side. As you heave one leg over the other, core still throbbing, your dad emerges from around the shed. Joel lets your hand drop.

“Rita’s wantin’ home,” your dad murmurs, rolling his eyes.

“She ain’t much of a partier,” Joel says, lifting the beer to his lips. You stare at the lip of the bottle as his mouth kisses it, drink mixed with…well, you, spilling out onto his tongue. The neck is pearlescent with your cum. You feel lightheaded.

“You alright, honey?” your dad asks, and his hand comes down on your shoulder. Gently, but it still makes you jump.

“Y-yeah,” you reply, dragging your gaze from Joel’s lips. “Just…the sun, I think.”

Your dad looks worried, rubs the top of your back. “You need to go home?”

You shake your head, panting a little. “No, I’m good.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Joel says. The bottle’s between his thighs now, he’s twirling it. It’s like it’s a trophy to him. He props his elbow on his armrest and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

Your dad gives Joel an appreciative nod, then glares back at you. “You call me if you need me, alright? I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

You muster up the energy to make some joke about going too fast in the car with Rita. Your dad chuckles, then nods again to Joel, and disappears around the corner.

“You okay?” Joel asks when he’s gone.

You return his glance, energy coming back. “Sweeten your beer? Where the fuck did you come up with that one?”

He’s grinning. Do you want to slap him, or mount him?

“Can’t let you in on all my secrets, can I, darlin’?”

You roll your head back, resting softly against the wooden chair.

“Alright. Just keep doin’ that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Surprising me. See where it gets you.”

Joel laughs through his nose; you hear the quiet rumble of his chest.

“We better get,” he says, tapping your knee as he stands. “Before everyone goes home.”

“Thought that’s what you wanted?” you reply, taking his outstretched hand and pulling yourself up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Joel mutters as you walk off in front of him, “did I say before everyone goes home? I meant to make everyone go home.”

Joel gets his wish soon enough. It’s almost four o’clock when you return to the party; Sarah and her friends are up in her room, Bill’s roped about three others in to join his new bowling watch party, and most of the guests are either gone, or getting ready to head. The garden is empty when you throw yourself back on a lounge chair, enjoying the quiet.

You feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, sun keeping you warm, breeze lightly kissing your cheek. The music from the stereo has been turned down, so you listen contently to the quiet hum of country, making a mental note to tease Joel about it later.

You’re filled with a peaceful content, a little tired from your ridiculous antics, but happy. You’re starting to understand what Bill was talking about; that bright cheeriness always makes an appearance when you’ve been around one person in particular, doesn’t it?

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice sings through the open door from the kitchen. She peers through the shades, spotting you by the pool. “You seen my dad?”

You shake your head. “Not a clue.” Lifting the bottom of your bottle to drain the last of your beer on your tongue, you haul yourself up – with a huge effort – to sit up straight.

“Will you tell him I’m goin’ out? We’re gonna catch a movie.”

“I’m not invited?”

She snorts. “You can come if you want. Thought you might still be feelin’ funny, is all.”

“I’m good. Enjoy. I’ll tell ‘im when he makes a reappearance.”

“Bye, babe!” she disappears back into the house.

You give her a wave as her silhouette heads down the hall. Joel’s back gate squeals open and your dad’s voice calls in from your left.

“That Rita can chat, huh?”

He latches the gate closed, then drags a deckchair over beside you.

“You were quicker than I thought you’d be.”

“She wanted to show me some cross-stitch thing she’s been workin’ on. Told her you weren’t feelin’ great ‘n I should probably head back.”

You furrow your brows. “Poor Rita, she means well.”

“I know, I know. Just, next time you see her, keep the story up.”

You scoff. “You seen Joel?”

Your question is answered by the grumble which sounds from the kitchen. He appears seconds later, stretches his arms high above his head, then stalks over.

You did try to avert your gaze from the trail of hair under his belly button. You swear. But it was right fucking there.

He hoists a second chair over to your right. “Too much effort,” he mutters, throwing himself into it. “I’m glad they’re all gone.”

You laugh lazily and rest back. “Sarah’s gone to the movies.”

Joel nods in response, the sun hitting off of him and lighting him like some kind of Adonis. You struggle to pull your eyes away from him, mesmerized by the way the light hits his worn skin, reflects out of his deep-set brown eyes, ignites strands of his graying hair.

You fucking hate what he does to you, the aftermath of him making you cum. As if there’s some drug running through your veins, making you want him, need him. Need his arms around you, his skin on yours. Need more of his attention, as if phone sex and whatever the fuck that was with the bottle weren’t enough for the day.

Your eyes travel down his strong, thick arms, hair covering them just the perfect amount, down to his hands; rough, worked, but gentle, kind. They grip the armrests of his chair, and you imagine the same grip around your neck as he…

“Y’know, actually, this was a lot less stress than I thought it’d be,” your dad yaps, bursting your bubble. “Why so last minute, Joel?”

“Sarah only decided she wanted somethin’ a few days ago, and she’s out of town next weekend, so had to be this week.”

“Oh? Me ‘n her both. Where’s she off to?”

Your head darts around to look at your dad. Then, when he speaks, back to Joel.

“Nashville. Just for a few days. Goin’ with some friends from school, I think. They’re flyin’ out on Friday, be back Monday night. Girls’ trip, I guess.”

You shoot back to your dad, like you’re watching a damn tennis match.

“Funny that. Don’t you have a girls’ night on Saturday, hon?”

Staring at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, you nod slowly. “Mhm.”

“I’m headin’ up to Fort Worth for work,” he tells Joel.

Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You slowly draw your gaze to meet his, mouth falling open a little.

“Yeah? This that big fancy client of yours?” he asks your dad, shifting in his seat.

“Sure is. He’s askin’ too much of me, these days. All these late nights, now workin’ the weekends?” He lets out a little chuckle, shaking his head.

You tear your glance from your Adonis to the pool ahead of you. You finally find your voice, knowing that, with this final piece of information, the fate of your weekend is sealed.

“You there long?”

“Just Saturday through Sunday.”

Well, fuck.

You and Joel exchange a knowing glance, his eyes darkening already.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright without me for one night, hon,” the voice from your left chuckles, but you’re both already elsewhere.

You will be fine without him, of course you will. You’re twenty-three. You’re a grown-up.

And you’ve got Joel to keep you company.

----------

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chiriwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

The Girl in IT - 3. Vroom Vroom

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself." He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?" You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?" "Just like that." "Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue." "Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Praise kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Vaginal Fingering, Exhibitionism, No PIV (yet), Virgin Reader

Word Count: 6K

A/N & Chapter Notes: Two birthdays, ten years apart.

This is filthy, and I have no regrets.

Hope you enjoy!

Ten Years Earlier.

Joel lingers outside your house, the lively sounds of your 26th birthday party spilling into the night air through open windows. He adjusts the collar of his chambray button-down, opting for a change from his usual flannel attire. With his hair slicked back and facial hair neatly trimmed, he sighs, contemplating the small bouquet of sunflowers he acquired from a nearby florist.

His mind goes to the conversation he had with the florist earlier.

"Sunflowers? That's an interesting choice." The florist smiles, gently taking the flowers from his hand. "Did you need this wrapped? Maybe a bit of ribbon?"

Joel nods. "Please. It's for—"

The florist glances at him, a twinkle in her eyes as she observes his nervous demeanor. "Did you know that the sunflower symbolizes adoration? It's the perfect flower to give to someone you're interested in."

"Oh, it's nothing like that, It's for a... a friend. It's her birthday today."

The florist gives Joel a wry look. "If she's just a friend, might I suggest daisies? Surely they would be more appropriate and cheaper—"

Joel shakes his head. "The sunflowers," he motions to her hand. "Please."

He smiles at the memory, looking at the bouquet once more, knowing he made the right choice.

He spots you through the window, the vibrant yellow of your sundress gracefully accentuating your curves, creating an ethereal silhouette that seems to glow, like a beacon of light calling out to him. His breath catches in his throat as he watches you. A genuine laugh escapes you, a sound that always catches him off guard, echoing through the air with a light that he finds irresistible.

"Joel," your father approaches, his expression clearly showing his displeasure. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Sir, Well, I'm here for a birthday party, and-" he lifts the invitation, "I believe I was invited."

"I can see that, but the question is why. Surely, a man of your age at a party filled with twenty-year-olds? Doesn't that seem... odd to you?"

"It's only odd if you make it odd, I reckon."

"Can I ask you a serious question? What are your intentions with my daughter?"

"Well, I would like to wish her a Happy Birthday, maybe eat a little cake-"

"... and how old are you, Joel? aren't you a bit bothered by the fact that your daughter is older than mine?"

"... well, she's not, sir." Joel smiles, "She's older than Sarah."

Unamused, your father continues. "I'm going to level with you. I'm not about to let my daughter be swept away by some middle-aged man barely scraping by." He shoots Joel a stern look, shaking his head in disapproval. "My daughter deserves the world, and quite frankly, I won't have her settle for someone beneath her. Not for some small-time contractor."

"Sir, that's not my intention at all. Sugar invited me, and-"

He shakes his head in disgust. "I think you should go, Joel. Take your flowers and go. You're lucky I let you still have this job."

Joel nods in defeat, his gaze lingering on you through the window. He takes a final appreciative look at you, radiant in your yellow dress, and offers a warm smile. Turning towards your father, he speaks with sincerity, "I apologize for any disturbance, sir." Joel strides purposefully towards his truck, adding, "Please convey my regrets to your wife."

Present day.

Joel: Hey Sugar, did you head out to the office yet? Sugar: Hi Mr. Miller, Good Morning! No, I haven't. Still getting ready. Should be heading out in 15. Did you need something? Did you get locked out of the company portal again? I told you that we change passwords every six months, I wrote it on a sticky note for you like you asked! Joel: No, Sugar, I haven't. It concerns me how little faith you have in me. I am not that hopeless! For your information, I am not in the office yet. Sugar: Oh? So it wasn't you and Ellie trying to figure out how you managed to print the printer manual ten times over last week? Joel: I'm sure that was Tommy, but it's ok, I forgive you. Anyway, does this mean you're still at home? Sugar: Sure, Joel. Ellie would say otherwise. Yes?? Joel: ??? Not sure if you're at home? Sugar: No. Yes. I'm at home. Joel: Good. I'm outside.

"Joel," you say, locking your front door, looking surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm kidnapping you for the day," Joel announces from his truck. "Thought I'd give you a ride to work." He winks as he exits out of the cab, wearing a chambray shirt and jeans instead of his usual work-issued flannel. It's a nice change, being that you didn't think the man owned anything other than flannels. "Come on, I've got coffee and donuts."

You give him a wry smile. "What if I'm not a coffee person?"

Joel presents a coffee to-go cup, a tea bag tag hanging out. "Lucky for you, I've got your favorite green tea."

"Smooth move, Miller," you grin, approaching him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Very smooth."

"What can I say? I have excellent attention to detail, especially when it comes to you."

"Just not with computers, right?"

"Alright, alright, none of your teasing this morning, why don't you hop in," Joel grins, holding the passenger door open for you. You slide into the truck, still puzzled by his unexpected visit.

As he drives away, the scenery doesn't match the route to the office. You raise an eyebrow, looking at Joel with a playful smirk. "This doesn't look like the way to work. Where are we going?"

"Well, if I told you, then it would ruin the surprise, now would it?"

You snort. "What's happening today that's so important it warrants a surprise?"

Joel glances at you, a wide smile on his face. "A little birdy told me that it's someone's birthday today."

"Yeah and? It doesn't mean that we blow work off, I actually have a scheduled meeting with Tess today-"

"Fuck Tess."

You frown. "Joel, be serious."

"I am serious. I handled Tess. She's fine, don't you worry your pretty little head off, she's ok with pushing back to tomorrow."

You look at him warily, sighing. "I got a bad feeling about this."

Joel reaches over and kisses your forehead. "Don't frown, baby. None of that nonsense is allowed when we're together, okay? Just let me do something nice for you on your birthday. Nothing too crazy, promise."

"Why do I have the feeling that you don't mean that?"

Joel drives into the mall's parking lot, heading towards Neiman Marcus, driving into the nearest parking stall to its entrance.

He cuts the ignition to the truck. "OK, I don't promise. I intend on dragging you into the store whether you like it or not, sliding my shiny Amex to the first salesperson I see, and spoiling the absolute shit outta you. Do you have a problem with that, baby?"

"What if I allow you to spoil me from the comfort of the clearance rack?"

"Sorry to break it to you, baby, but this Amex won't work on anything discounted. Do you know what it means to have a black one of these?"

"That you have a big cock and an even bigger ego?"

"Funny. What it really means is that I can walk into one of them Tesla dealerships and buy you a Model X before you can ask me if I'm being serious." He takes your hand in his. "Because I am. Serious, that is."

You scoff, sinking further into your seat. "You're not going to buy me a Tesla."

He laughs. "Maybe, maybe not. I do know you need a new car, and I know one thing for sure—" He gives you a wry smile as he lifts your chin to face him. "There's no way in hell I'm going to let you drive that damn death trap anymore, Sugar."

"Hey! I'll have you know, I've had that death trap since college, it's the first thing I bought without my father's money!" you huff, "Now that I'm not in the ninth layer of Hell at Best Buy anymore, I can finally afford to buy myself a car. You know, something sensible, like a Kia."

"A Kia? Baby... only more reason for me to buy you a new car. Tell me, if you could have any car, money, and cost be dammed, what would it be? Sky's the limit."

"Seriously?"

He leans in, eyes challenging. "Try me."

"I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself."

He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?"

You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue."

"Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

A smile tugs at your lips, appreciating the unexpected attention. "Really?" you playfully inquire. "So, I'm more than just a random employee, huh?"

Joel gently caresses your chin, offering a small, satisfied smirk.

"No, Sugar, you're not just some random employee," he declares, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're everything."

"You don't mean that—" you stutter, "Joel, what's going on? Why are you doing this? I'm not someone to be bought or bribed like I'm some sugar baby. I liked you back then, before all of this—"

"When I had nothing? When my company was still in the red, when your father's job was the only one turning a profit," he peers down at you. "What if I told you that I wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for you? If your father didn't talk some sense into me all those years ago, I wouldn't have worked my ass off to get where I am now."

Your eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

Joel lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze intense. "Your father made it clear back then that I wasn't good enough for you. He didn't think I was the right fit for you. He did me a favor if I think about it now. It was your father's skepticism that fueled my determination to prove him wrong, to build something from the ground up."

Your mind races, trying to grasp the weight of his revelation. "But why keep it a secret? Why now? You didn't give me any signs that you were interested in me, I even invited you to my birthday party, which you didn't even bother showing up to!"

Joel winces. "Yeah, about that-"

Your face softens. "Wait, Joel, the sunflowers?"

"Your father made sure to point out the inappropriateness of a middle-aged man attending a party full of co-eds. Thinking about it, it wouldn't have been a good look, especially since I couldn't take my eyes off of you, wearing that yellow dress… I was enchanted by you, baby girl."

You blush, smacking his shoulder. "Oh, that dress was horrendous. My mom made me wear it!"

"Well, remind me to thank your mom for giving me the mental image I've had of you all these years."

"You know, that explains why the sunflowers were in the trash can, I thought it was so odd! They were beautiful, by the way. I snuck them out and kept them in my room, you know." You shake your head. "I can't believe my dad would do something like this. I hate that I stuck around for so long. I wish I knew, Joel. Back then. You were the only person I looked forward to coming that night, and when you didn't, I thought-"

"Well, I was there, baby."

"… but you didn't stay! How was I supposed to know?!"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I didn't want you to feel like you were settling or that my feelings were tied to any of this. I needed to prove myself first. I didn't want you to think I was using you or that I wasn't good enough for you."

A mix of emotions swirls within you—surprise, confusion, and a hint of realization. "Joel, I had no idea. But why go to such lengths now? Buying me a car, showering me with gifts?"

He looks into your eyes, his expression sincere. "Because, despite everything, my feelings for you have always been genuine. I wanted you to see that I can give you the life you deserve and that I've overcome the doubts from back then. I had nothing to give to you back then, hell, I was being eaten alive by debt, I couldn't put Sarah through college - she worked her ass off trying to get as many scholarships as she could on her own. I wasn't in a position to make you mine, not yet."

"Joel," you say, taking his face in your hands, a sad smile on your face. "Do you think I care about all of this? I would have been with you then, all you had to do was ask."

"Well, I'm asking you now. Will you let me make up for missing your birthday all those years ago up to you?"

You give him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay. Now, get out of the truck and into the store. That's an order."

You share a playful eye roll before complying, opening the truck door, and stepping into the crisp air outside. The familiar chime of the entrance doors signals your arrival at Neiman Marcus.

Joel walks beside you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both make your way into the store. The ambiance of luxury surrounds you, and the scent of high-end perfumes lingers in the air. You can't help but marvel at the elegant displays showcasing the latest in fashion and accessories, the air smelling distinctively expensive and high class, something you would never associate yourself with.

"So, what's the plan?" you ask, hesitation evident in your voice.

Joel grins, steering you towards the women's clothing section. "I'm looking for just the right-" he stops midsentence, his eyes locking onto the stylishly dressed woman lying in wait for her next victim.

"Lenore!" he shouts, "Just the person I was hoping to find."

"Mr. Miller! What a delightful surprise," the saleswoman exclaims, her face lighting up. "What brings you here? how are your girls?"

"They're doing fine, thank you for asking."

"... and who is this pretty baby peeking out from behind you?" she asks, casting a warm smile your way. You instinctively recoil at the unexpected attention, a familiar sensation from the years spent trailing your mother at Neiman’s, deliberately making yourself inconspicuous to deter any unwanted conversations. It felt safer that way, you reflect, offering Lenore a slight smile. "There's our lovely girl. No need to hide behind this old dog; you're far more interesting to look at than he is!"

"Lenore, allow me to introduce you to someone very special—this is Sugar," Joel says with a proud smile, gesturing towards you.

"Sugar, what a sweet name! Pleasure to meet you," Lenore responds, extending a hand in a friendly gesture.

The tension from earlier begins to dissipate as you shake Lenore's hand and manage a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you too, Lenore."

"Sugar, why don't you take a look at the clothes over there and let me talk business with Lenore for a second?" You raise your eyebrows in suspicion, "Maybe you'll see something you like?"

Joel, his eyes gleaming with excitement, leans in and whispers, "Lenore, today is no ordinary day. It's Sugar's birthday, and I'm in the mood to make it special for her. We're going to be spending an obscene amount of money today, so I hope you're ready. You got your work cut out for you, I promise you that."

"Nothing can be as worse than the time I tried to convince Ellie to wear a gown for the prom last year," she winces, "Sorry about that again, Mr. Miller." She slides up beside Joel, flashing him a knowing smirk. "How obscene are we talking?"

Joel hands over his sleek black Amex, and Lenore's eyes widen in surprise. "Obscene. Don't let her talk you out of something because of the price, hell, rip off the damn tags if you have to." He steals a quick glance back at you, a vision standing amongst the designer goods, a subtle smile on his face. He glances at Lenore once more. "Do we have an understanding?"

The saleswoman nods her head frantically, pocketing the Amex in her pocket, the weight of it making an indentation through her blazer. "Understood, Mr. Miller. I'll fetch you a coffee and set up a seat for you in her dressing room. Is there anything else?

Joel nods. "Yeah. Do your worst, Lenore."

Lenore gives Joel one last look as she heads towards you, not hiding the fact that you look like a deer caught in the headlights. She places a hand on the small of your back. "Come along dear, we're on a mission." She gives you a conspiratorial smile. "You're in desperate need of Celine."

Lenore scrutinizes you for a moment, gently lifting your arms to assess your form. "I take it you're a size 10?"

Surprised, you ask, "How did you know?"

"Honey, I've been here for the last twenty years. Not only can I tell your dress and bra size, but I've also mastered the subtle art of reading people." She confidently places her hands on your hips, nodding to herself. "People are not as secretive as they think. I can dissect their entire life story the moment they walk in the door."

Curious, you inquire, "Oh? And what conclusion did you make about me?"

Lenore begins rifling through the racks, selecting a few monochromatic pieces. "Well, you seem to go through life trying to hide yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" you ask with a hint of self-awareness.

Lenore continues her assessment, her experienced eyes scanning the clothing options she's pulled out. "You go through life trying to hide yourself," she repeats, her tone thoughtful. "But, sweetheart, hiding doesn't mean you're weak or scared. It means you've faced challenges, learned to protect yourself."

She steps back, considering you with a knowing gaze. "We all wear different masks, dear. It's just a matter of finding the one that feels right for the occasion. Now, tell me, what's the story behind the layers you've wrapped yourself in?"

"Well..." you bite your lip thoughtfully, "Today is my 36th birthday. My mom, she had me when she was 26. By the time she was my age, she had her whole life figured out - the husband, the kid, the house. I remember thinking how much I wanted that for myself, how I thought my life would go... and now, at 36," you pause, sighing, "I don't have any of that. I'm not married, I don't have any kids, and I rent an absurdly overpriced shoebox that I share with my cat," you softly chuckle to yourself.

"It's not like I haven't tried to put myself out there. I have—met a few people, went on a couple of dates, which—I felt like wasn't terrible, you know?" You admire a sheath dress on the rack, adding it to the growing pile of pieces Lenore has accumulated. "...but it was always just a first date, and then rejection, maybe if they were kind, but most of the time I never hear from them again. After a while, after I hit 30, I just... stopped. I stopped trying to put myself out there. It's exhausting, and I can't keep wondering what makes me so undesirable."

"Sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I'm defective, too broken for anyone, not good enough to have the kind of life I want."

"Sweetheart, life rarely follows the script we write for it. Comparing your journey to your mother's or anyone else's is like comparing apples to oranges. Each story is unique, and yours is still unfolding," she reassures you.

She continues sorting through the clothes, selecting pieces that seem to resonate with your style. "Now, about those layers you wear," she begins, her focus returning to the task at hand. "Perhaps it's time to shed the expectations and judgments, not just from others but also from yourself. These layers, they're not defects; they're experiences that have shaped you."

Lenore hands you a beautifully tailored blazer and nods approvingly. "Try this on. Let's see how it feels."

As you slip into the blazer, Lenore continues, "You deserve a life that brings you joy, and that starts with accepting yourself. When you embrace who you are, others will too. It's not about being 'good enough'; it's about being authentically you."

Lenore, her hands expertly moving through the racks, pauses for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "And what about Mr. Miller?" she asks with a knowing smile. "There's a story there too, isn't it?"

You glance at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. "Joel? Well, we've known each other for ten years, but we've only worked together for six months. There's nothing more to it than that."

Lenore raises an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, I've been around enough to recognize when there's something more. The way he looks at you, the way he cares—it goes beyond the confines of a professional relationship."

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. Lenore gently continues, "I've seen people in love, and I've seen people trying to hide it. Joel's got a soft spot for you, dear. It's written all over him."

"Is it? because with my track record, all it feels like is me waiting for the other shoe to drop. I like him... I've liked him", you correct yourself, "...for a very long time. I tried to put myself out there to him back then, only for him to reject me. What makes me different now? What didn't I have then?"

Lenore listens attentively, her gaze filled with compassion. "Sweetheart, people change, circumstances change. What may not have worked before doesn't define your worth or potential now. Maybe back then, Joel wasn't ready or didn't see what was right in front of him. It doesn't mean you lacked anything—it just wasn't the right time."

She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Love can be messy, complicated, and unpredictable. But if you feel something for Joel, and there's a chance he feels the same now, it's worth exploring. Give yourself permission to embrace the present without being burdened by the past." She gives you one last smile, her tiny frame effortlessly handling the mountain of clothes with an ease that comes with her years of experience. "Come on, we can't leave Mr. Miller waiting. He's already waiting for you in your dressing room."

Joel is already seated in the room one would call a dressing room, a vast space encapsulated by mirrors. Lenore places the clothes on the rack, giving the two of you one last-knowing nod as she makes her way to the door. "I'll give you guys some privacy," she winks, her hands on the doorknob. "You just holler if you need anything, okay?" You smile meekly at her as Joel nods. "Thank you, Lenore."

"Well', you breathe, making your way to the center of the room, taking it all in. "This is... something."

"It is, right? Perfect amount of mirrors to admire your form."

"It's just... a lot, Joel. I'm not used to seeing myself like this."

"Like what, baby?" He asks, making his way over to you as you fiddle nervously in place. Tenderly, he envelops you in his arms, hands brushing away stray strands of hair behind your ears. "Turn around and face the mirror," he softly directs, gently guiding you by the hips. You find yourself in front of the mirror, Joel standing behind you, his eyes locking with yours as his hands trace down your silhouette, fingers deftly navigating the buttons of your blouse.

"Let me paint a picture for you," Joel whispers in your ear, his eyes locked with yours through the mirror as he delicately starts to unbutton. "I see someone who drives me fucking crazy." Pausing at the last button, he eases your top from the waistband of your skirt, peeling the fabric from your skin to unveil the modest cotton bralette you chose for the day. "Beautiful," he breathes, slipping your top from your shoulders. A shiver runs through you as his hands graze your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"You think you can hide yourself behind all of these clothes but I see you, Sugar. I've seen what's inside, and I would like to get to know that girl that's begging to come out of that shell of yours." His fingers linger on the elastic at your waist, his eyes silently asking for consent. You nod, taking a deep breath as he slowly slides your skirt down your hips, leaving you standing against him in just your underthings, your body suddenly on fire as he continues to hold you against him. You swear you can feel the hardness of his desire from behind as he continues to caress you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Will you show me?"

His fingers find the skin of your torso, and you shudder and gasp at how it suddenly ignites you, the fire you kept dormant for so long suddenly ablaze from his ministrations, leaving you breathless. He places wet open-mouthed kisses along the length of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers start to travel down to your waist.

The corner of his mouth creeps slowly upwards. "Are you going to let me show you just how much I fucking adore you?"

You swallow thickly, nodding absentmindedly as you find yourself caught in his web, exactly where he wants you. "Yes", you whisper, "Please, Joel."

"Do you know how long I've waited for you?" he whispers, his fingertips grazing the outline of your panties, inching lower and lower, the sensation driving you mad with want. You instinctively rub your thighs together, your body craving more friction than what's currently being provided. Joel tsks at the gesture, shaking his head at you through the mirror. "You keep these legs spread for me, baby." His fingers wander upwards, hooking onto the elastic of your underwear, as he watches you closely, a question written across his face. He quirks his eyebrow at you curiously.

It was all you needed to know just exactly what he was asking.

You give him a tiny nod.

"Use your words, baby girl. I need to know for sure that this is what you want. I need you to be specific," he commands, his fingers twitching against your skin.

"Please Joel," you whisper, the entirety of your body trembling against his, "Please undress me."

He grins wickedly as he complies, the fabric slipping slowly down your hips, peeling gently down your legs. "I remember the day we first met at your house, how shy and skittish you were. I remember what you wore, even then," he says, taking his time, your panties caught on the ankle of your foot. He tugs them free, his eyes darkening as he realizes that they are soaked through with your slick, glistening under the lowlight of the dressing room.

You swear you hear his breath quickening as he holds them high against the light in reverence, tucking the scrap piece of fabric into his back pocket.

"Did you know that you were going to see me that day?" he asks, turning his attention back to you. "Is that why you didn't bother to wear a bra under that shirt of yours?" He shakes his head slowly as he places his hands on your hips once more, his fingers slowly making their way down to your inner thighs. "It was downright indecent, the fabric was so thin I could practically see your tits," his voice sounds more considerably wrecked as he slides his fingers upwards until they hit your slit, a calloused finger expertly parting your lips until they reach the button of your clit.

He stops. "Have you ever let anyone touch you like this before?"

You shake your head in response, your body arching against his as you desperately seek his touch. "I came close once, back in college, but I-" your voice gets caught in your throat as Joel eases his finger through your lips once more, his fingertips at the precipice of your entrance. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He pulls his fingers away from your heat as he reaches into his back pocket, reaching for your panties as he holds the wad of fabric against your mouth. "Open," he commands, stuffing your mouth with the fabric, the tang of your slick so sharp it makes your mouth water even more. "This is a public place, baby, I can't risk us getting kicked out because you can't control yourself, you hear? Nod if you understand me."

You nod.

"Good." He bends forwards slightly, his fingers parting your slit once more, your pussy lips quivering as he gathers your slick, his fingertips breaching your entrance once more. "I know you're still a virgin, Sugar", he breathes as he kisses your neck once more, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm not going to fuck you with my cock in a dressing room, but I am going to show you just how you make me feel. Is that okay?"

You nod once more, your voice muffled through the fabric of your panties. He breaches your entrance slowly, the thickness of his finger filling you as your body jolts from the intrusion, your eyes closing in pleasure.

"Look at me, Sugar. Look at what I'm doing to you."

Your eyes shoot open as you see Joel adding another finger into you, the squelch of your wetness against his fingers echoing loudly throughout the room as they slowly pump in and out of your pussy, his fingers crooking inside you slightly as your hips shift against his erection. Joel groans at that, shifting his thigh between your legs. "Lean against me, baby. Watch as I fuck you with my fingers."

You look at yourself in the mirror, the straps of your bralette sliding down your shoulders as Joel fingers you in earnest, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you wither and tremble against his thigh. Joel pulls the chair he was sitting on earlier towards the both of you, pulling his fingers out of you once more as he plops onto the seat, spreading his legs. He beckons his fingers coated in your slick at you. "Come sit on Daddy's lap like a good little girl."

You stumble inelegantly onto his lap, his hands spreading your legs to rest on his, spreading you out entirely as he gazes at your pussy in the mirror, your ass situated on his jean-covered cock as he starts to grind against you. He pulls your breasts out from the confines of your bralette, the slick of your pussy leaving a trail against your skin as he cups your tits, pinching your nipples as he groans into your neck. "Look at you," he praises, slipping his fingers into your pussy as he begins to finger fuck you into oblivion. You look completely debauched as he thoroughly fucks you, his groans growing louder as he continues to grind his cock against the swell of your ass.

"Sweet innocent little Sugar, playing hooky and getting wrecked by her boss in public", he spits, his fingers increasing in speed as you mewl against the fabric in your mouth. "What would everyone say, huh? Pulling into the parking lot with your brand new Tesla, walking into the office tomorrow morning in your brand new clothes Daddy bought you?" He rubs his thumb against your clit, your body arching back as you cry from overstimulation. "Are you going to take everything that I'm going to give you?" he pulls the fabric from your mouth, a line of saliva trailing it as you breathe harshly, desperately trying to even your breath. "I asked you a question, Sugar. Are you going to take everything I give you?" he rips his fingers out of your pussy as it clenches on nothing, whining from being so violently edged out. He slaps your pussy for good measure, and you swear you could come from the motion alone. "Answer me!" he growls in your ear.

"Yes!" you half-scream. "Joel, it's too much, I can't-"

"Yes, you can, baby. Fuck- keep grinding that ass on my cock, I'm so fucking close", he grips your hip harshly, his fingers digging into the meat of your skin you swear it'll leave a mark. "I can feel you quivering for me, baby, are you gonna come?" He's thrusting, thrusting so harshly against you it's almost to the point of pain, but you're so caught up chasing your release that the pain riles you up, you find yourself gyrating against his hardness as Joel nearly jumps out of his seat in response.

"Joel, what's happening? I feel so wet, you need to stop, I feel like I'm gonna-" You gasp, the pressure building within you so strongly it feels like you're going to implode. Your body moves in sync with his, the groans and shouts of pleasure building, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. "It's too much, it's too-" You scream, a gush of wetness flooding out of you as Joel fingers you to completion, a look of shock on your face as he grips your hips and comes in his jeans.

"FUCK!" he groans as he shoots his load so violently you swear you can feel the ropes of cum through his jeans as he comes down from his high. You sob into his shoulder, his mouth desperately finding yours as he finally kisses you, his tongue running along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance as he grips the back of your head. You kiss him back in earnest, turning yourself around and straddling his thighs, your bare pussy raw against the fabric of his jeans. "Thank you," he mumbles against your lips, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs wiping your tears away. "You did so good, baby, so fucking good, you came so hard for me you fucking squirted, FUCK! Such a perfect girl, my perfect girl-"

Your eyes widen in shock as you take in the scene before you, the wetness of your slick coating the surface of the dressing room. "Joel, I can't believe I-" You shift on his lap, panicking. "Fuck, Joel, what are we gonna do? I just came all over the dressing room, in Neiman Marcus for fucks sake-"

Joel chuckles softly, gently tucking your hair behind your ears. "Do you realize the power a black Amex wields? Silence. Lenore's commission today will be outrageous; a few stains here and there won't even register."

"But what if it ruined the merchandise? I haven't even tried anything on—"

"No need. Lenore's already taken care of it on the card. I trust her taste." He plants another tender kiss on your lips, retrieving a sleek silver card from his jeans pocket, the unmistakable Tesla logo gleaming.

He hands you the card with a smirk, and your eyes widen in astonishment as you delicately accept it.

"Happy Birthday, Baby."

The Updated List: (Line items 4, 15 & 16 completed this chapter_)

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

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milfsloverblog · 8 months

Text

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 3 (previous part here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

A/N: Listen, you guys know me, I just had to include some angst in this. So, tiny bit of angst in this chapter, and these two idiots are still convinced that the other one doesn’t want them. OH!! You can see edits I made of Larissa’s outfit in this chapter here. Thank you for the enthusiasm you all show for this fic. Enjoy! <3

You were putting your shoes on when your phone buzzed with an incoming text from Larissa.

I’m here. Xx

She was right on time, of course she was.

You had arranged that she would pick you up from your place at 3, and you would spend the afternoon getting spoiled by her.

You took a last look in the mirror, wondering if you should have opted for a lighter lipstick, not that you had enough time to change it anyway.

Larissa had told you to wear something comfortable, but not too comfortable. “A blouse and some black pants will do just right,” she’d said, and you had sent her a picture of the few blouses you owned, letting her pick the one she wanted you to wear.

Your jaw dropped when you stepped out of your flat and caught Larissa standing by her car, slightly leaning on it. She wore a suit this time, a deep burgundy suit that perfectly matched her lipstick, with a white shirt underneath. Her hair had been let down from its usual intricate updo, her silver curls falling on her shoulders and framing her soft, pale face. She was a vision, truly, and it made you stop functioning for a moment.

“Hello, darling.” Larissa flashed you a smile when you finally reached her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You smiled back, getting on your tiptoe to place a kiss on her cheek, feeling one of her hands on your waist as you did so.

She wore flats this time, and you found that she wasn’t that tall without her heels. She was still tall, sure, but it was perfect. She was the perfect height. She was perfect.

“Hop inside, sweetling,” she said as she pulled the car door open for you, letting you get inside.

The ride wasn’t too long, it was spent with her hand on your thigh as you told her about your week and how you nearly had an argument with your coworker when you’d asked to take the day off, making Larissa chuckle a little.

“You said you’ve never been to a place like this, right?” Larissa asked as she pushed the door to the shop open and followed you inside.

“Yeah, it definitely is a first.” You nodded, looking around at the mannequins.

A small brunette quickly made her way over to the both of you, flashing Larissa a wide smile.

“Miss Weems,” she said. “I hope you’re doing well. Would you require some help with your shopping today?”

Larissa looked down at you before looking back at the assistant.

“Thank you, Clarice, but it won’t be necessary. I will let you know if we ever need some assistance.” Larissa smiled and the brunette nodded before going back to where she had appeared from.

“Come,” Larissa said, leading you through the shop. “I was thinking, since this is your first time, that I will let you choose the sets you’d like to try on. I will, however, still pick a couple of things I’d like to see you wearing.”

You gave a nod, happy at the prospect that you’d have some free rein while still being under Larissa’s control.

She walked with you around the shop, giving you advice on which fabric was the softest, which lingerie would be better suited to wear for a whole day and which one would be better for special occasions.

It was almost hypnotising, listening to her talking so passionately about colours and fabric, watching her fingertips brushing the different sets as she spoke.

Larissa chose three pieces for you to try on. A white lace body and a sage bra and panties set. You personally picked a burgundy set, something that matched her outfit, and a royal blue one.

The woman showed you the way to the changing room, helping you carry the pieces you were to try on.

“Let me know what you think of them, will you?” She asked.

You nodded and smiled before closing the curtain and taking a deep breath.

Right, you thought, time to try on some lingerie while the hottest woman alive is waiting right outside.

You took your time undressing and trying on the first set, the blue one. It looked nice, but it wasn’t what you had expected when choosing it.

“I tried the blue set on,” you told Larissa. “It’s beautiful, but not on me.”

Larissa’s eyebrows knitted. Not beautiful on you, what did that even mean? If only she could see you, see what you meant by “not on me”. But alas…

A couple of minutes went by without another word from you until you let out a frustrated groan.

“Larissa?” You called, getting a soft hum in answer. “I can’t close the button at the back all by myself, could you maybe…”

Larissa straightened her shoulders before pushing the curtain aside, just enough to slip herself inside the changing room.

You were trying on the white body she had picked for you, your hands desperately reaching back to close the button.

“Let me,” she said gently, her fingers brushing against the skin of your back as she buttoned the body shut.

Larissa took a step back once it was done, watching as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt a little unconscious as you spun on your heels to show her the result. She had picked this model, after all, you thought she’d like to see what it looked like on you.

The tall woman’s breath hitched as she watched you turn around. She had picked the perfect model for you.

“May I?” She asked, lifting her hand and reaching out when you nodded your approval.

“Here,” Larissa said, gently pulling on the lace that covered your left breast and making sure it lay flat against your skin.

Your eyes never left her face as she did so, not even when her fingers brushed against the swell of your left breast and made you shiver.

She looked beautiful, she looked passionate, but there was something else there too, hidden deep inside her blue eyes. Something more primal, something the lion felt when the antelope stepped too close to it.

“Beautiful,” Larissa whispered under her breath. “It’s a beautiful piece, I suggest you get this one. But the choice is all yours today, enjoy it while it lasts.” She winked and took a last up-and-down look at you before stepping out of the changing room.

Another moment went by where you let Larissa know that the sage set, as pretty as it was, simply wasn’t your colour.

You tried the burgundy set last, smiling as you looked at your reflection. It looked great on you, and the thought of wearing underwear that matched Larissa’s outfit was arousing in more ways than one.

You took a deep breath and brushed your fingertips on your breasts, closing your eyes as you imagined them to be someone else’s fingers.

Larissa walked back and forth in front of the closed curtain while you changed back into your clothes. She had managed to steady her heartbeat, taking a couple more deep breaths to fully relax herself.

She was about to take another step when she noticed that the curtain wasn’t properly closed. She didn’t think twice as she reached up and grabbed a handful of the velvety fabric to close it, only to unintentionally catch a glimpse of you inside the changing room.

If Larissa’s heartbeat had successfully steadied previously, it felt like it had completely stopped as her eyes landed on you. It only took less than a second for her brain to register what you were doing with one of your hands splayed on the wall while the other one busied itself between your legs.

Larissa held her breath, her mouth falling slightly open as she watched you. This was better than anything she had imagined when touching herself and thinking of you. She watched for what seemed to be hours, her eyes never leaving your face, wishing to memorise every single one of your expressions.

She wanted to see you climax, she craved to know the face you’d make as you’d reach your peak, if your knees would buckle and if you’d keep touching yourself to overstimulation.

Larissa, the little voice tugged at the back of her mind. Larissa, you shouldn’t. Larissa… Larissa!

The tall woman jumped and quickly shut the heavy curtain, her knuckles turning white as she kept tightly holding onto the fabric.

Larissa closed her eyes, her head hanging low as she let go of the curtain. She hated it. Not the fact that she had caught you masturbating, no. She hated the nagging feeling in her chest, one that she knew all too well.

She remembered feeling that nagging thing for the first time as a teenager when Morticia had started getting closer to Gomez and more distant from her.

That nagging feeling had grown and grown and grown until it had seeped through the cracks of Larissa’s heart and filled her whole body.

She hadn’t been able to properly control her shapeshifting abilities back then, and so she had woken up one day with her skin tinted a deep grassy green. She had hidden in her room for a couple of days, spending hours scrubbing at her skin in the shower only to burst into tears of frustration when nothing helped.

There was nothing she could do about it, Larissa had literally turned green with jealousy.

And she felt it again, as she took a step back from the changing room, that awful nagging pull in her heart.

She was buying you lingerie, beautiful silk and lace that you would wear for someone else. For the person you were thinking about right then with your hand between your legs, the one who would get to peel those expensive pieces off your body.

And it made Larissa sick with envy. She was sure that hadn’t she been able to control herself, she would have turned green again.

If she only had watched you for a moment longer, Larissa would have caught her name slipping from your mouth barely audibly as your thighs clenched around your hand, a strong orgasm washing over you.

It took you a few minutes to fully get down from your high, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realised what you had done. Anyone could have caught you. A shop assistant, a customer, Larissa. That last thought made you shiver, you would have died on the spot if the older woman had caught you masturbating.

You quickly got dressed and picked two sets from the ones you had tried on, the burgundy one that matched Larissa’s suit and the white one she seemed to have loved on you.

“Larissa,” you said as you walked out of the changing room carrying the lingerie.

The woman looked up and you could immediately tell that something had happened. She did push a smile, but it wasn’t quite right, it didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did.

“Did you make your choice, darling?” She asked, looking at the pieces in your hands.

“Yes, yes. I like these the most.” You raised your right hand to show her the ones you’d want to keep, earning a nod from the older woman.

“Larissa, is everything alright? You seem a bit-“ your question was interrupted by the same shop assistant from earlier asking you if you had found anything to your liking. You showed her the sets you’d like to keep and handed them to her so she could take them to the till.

Larissa’s hand fell on the small of your back and she guided you to follow the shop assistant. She was quiet, awfully quiet as she pulled her Visa card from her handbag and paid for your items. And still awfully quiet as you both walked out of the shop and back towards her car.

She took the bag from your hand and placed it in the trunk of her car before opening the passenger door for you, only closing it once you were comfortably seated.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you could feel the bad energy oozing from Larissa as she sat down by your side. Something had happened, that much was clear, and you feared it was somehow your fault.

A few minutes passed where both of you remained silent, Larissa’s eyes never leaving the road. She stopped at a traffic light and your gaze fell on her hand holding the gear lever, noticing the death grip that she had on it.

“Larissa,” you whispered, your fingers gently wrapping around hers on the lever. The small gesture seemed to be enough to snap the woman out of her trance, her head turning so she could look at you.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’ve lost myself in my thoughts again.” She pushed a small smile, one that looked more sincere than the previous one. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did, I enjoyed every second of it,” you said sincerely, your thumb gently brushing her fingers. “And I don’t want it to end now.” You admitted.

Larissa looked at you for a moment, her sapphire eyes boring into yours.

Is that really all there is to it? She wanted to ask. Are you just company to me and am I just easy money to you?

“We’ll have dinner,” she said, looking back to the road when the light turned green.

“Dinner sounds perfect. Where are you taking me?”

“The Paragon.” She answered without thinking twice.

You noticed the quick look she gave to your outfit, making you shuffle in your seat.

“If my outfit isn’t appropriate for the place you’re taking me to, we could drop by my house and I’ll wear the dress you bought for our first date.”

Date, the word echoed through Larissa’s mind.

“Get in the backseat,” Larissa said, a little authoritatively almost like a teacher would.

“Sorry?” You shook your head, watching as she parked the car.

“Get in the backseat, there’s a shopping bag. Something I bought for you a few days ago and wanted to make you wear on our next…rendezvous.” She explained.

You gave a quick nod and stepped out of the car to quickly get in the backseat.

“Vivienne Westwood?” You raised an eyebrow. Even someone who didn’t know much about fashion would know about Vivienne Westwood.

“Yes, she used to be one of my favourites when I was younger,” Larissa said, turning the engine back on to drive away. “But I’ve become more reasonable now.”

You opened the bag and pulled out the piece of clothing, a long black dress with long sleeves and white patterns.

“It should fit with your flats.” She said, looking at you in the rear-view mirror.

“I absolutely love it, thank you, Larissa.” You smiled and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, earning yourself a smile from the woman.

“Get changed,” she said. “We’ll be at the restaurant in about twenty minutes.”

“Here?” You frowned.

“Well, yes, here.” Larissa chuckled as if it was the most evident thing ever. “The windows are tinted, no one can see you from the outside.”

But you can, you thought.

“I won’t look.” She added as if she could read your mind.

You stayed still for a moment but eventually gave a nod before starting to unbutton your blouse.

Larissa kept her eyes on the road as much as she possibly could, her knuckles once again turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. She could see you peeling off your clothes in the rear-view mirror from the corner of her eyes. She had to refrain from stealing a few glances, biting onto the inside of her cheeks to keep herself focused.

“Your underwear too,” Larissa said, a little too strictly which made you jump.

“I thought you weren’t looking!”

“And I’m not. But the bag is in the trunk, so I know you haven’t changed that. Pull on the middle seat and reach for the bag. I want you to wear the burgundy one.”

“Oh, wanting to match?” You teased a little, pulling on the middle seat once you had gotten rid of your bra and panties.

Larissa allowed herself one glance then, only one. She was greeted by the expanse of your naked back flexing as your arm reached inside the trunk for the shopping bag.

Her eyes snapped back to the road when you straightened up, but not before she could catch a glimpse of your side boob, her tongue instinctively darting out to wet her lips.

“You can look now,” you said once you had put the lingerie on. It wasn’t anything that Larissa hadn’t already seen.

Larissa waited a short moment before looking in the mirror, not wanting to appear too eager to watch you.

You put the dress on, muttering under your breath as you struggled with the zipper for a moment, making Larissa chuckle softly.

“We’ve arrived,” she said, parking the car in front of the restaurant just as you managed to zip the dress up.

Larissa stepped out of the car and opened the back door, offering you her hand to help you out of the car which you gladly took.

“You look beautiful,” she said, looking you up and down. “It suits you. I thought it might be a bit too long, but it’s perfect.”

“You look beautiful too,” You said, squeezing Larissa’s hand.

The older woman looked taken aback by the compliment, so much so that it made you wonder if it was a rare occurrence for her.

“You do!” You reassured her, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you for the dress and the lingerie. I’ll wear it thinking of you.”

Larissa's body moved automatically, her hand cupping your cheek as she stepped forward, trapping you between the car and herself.

I’ll wear it thinking of you, your voice sounded in her head. Do you have any idea what you do to me, she wanted to ask. Do you have any idea what you do to me?

“Larissa,” you whispered, taking hold of the hand that was cupping your cheek and kissing its palm, successfully snapping your companion out of her thoughts. The heat emanating from her body mixed with her perfume was unbearable, you needed her to step away before you did something you would regret.

“I’m sorry, sweetling,” she said, taking a step back and pulling her hand away from you.

Your chest was heaving up and down, Larissa noticed. Had she scared you? She hoped she hadn’t. She needed to get a grip on herself and control those…urges.

She doesn’t want you, told the little voice at the back of her mind. Stick that in your brain, Larissa. She doesn’t want you like that.

And she tried, Larissa really tried to get that into her brain. But as you walked inside the restaurant together and you slipped your hand in hers, letting your fingers interlace, she couldn’t help but wonder - what if?

————————————————————————

Taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x y/n #secret benefits

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okaylikesmomo · 8 months

Text

Chapter 7: Paris

le sserafim smut, ~6k words, chaewon, kazuha, male reader

“This is so cute!”

“I heard you wanted to go on a date in Paris,” you chuckled. “You like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” Kazuha gushed. “How did you set this up so quickly?”

“I had to pull a few strings,” you smiled at her as you pulled her chair back.

“Wow, you must really like me,” Kazuha teased while taking a seat. “Oh my God!”

The excitement on her face as she looked at the variety of breads on the table was enough to make this whole endeavor worth it. Maybe it was your history dating idols, but you were definitely spoiled by their intense reactions.

“I think they call that bread.” you chuckled, taking a seat across from her.

“Why are there so many?”

“Because you deserve all the breads!” you laughed as you watched Kazuha gawked at the table.

“When are you going to take me to the real City of Love?”

“I think I’d get in trouble if I stole you and flew away in the middle of promo week.”

“I’d let you steal me,” she said slyly as she began buttering up a roll.

“How is it?” you asked, already knowing the answer as Kazuha physically leaned back into her chair, looking up at the roof in a state of utter satisfaction.

“It’s so good,” she moaned, her voice wavering as if she was about to spill tears over a simple bite of bread.

“Save some room, there’s a whole meal to come,” you laughed, overflowing with happiness at Kazuha’s antics.

Before you knew it, the appetizer, main course, and dessert had been served. Dinner was a mostly silent affair as Kazuha was far too busy with the food, only sparing enough time to drop a flirty one-liner here and there as she worked on finishing every bite from dishes she couldn’t even pronounce.

“Wow!” Kazuha gasped, even making the waiter smile through her excitement as they torched the sugar in front of her.

“Have you had it before?” you asked, tapping the top of your own little cup with the back of your spoon.

She shook her head excitedly before breaking the sugar layer with her spoon and giving it a taste. As usual, her reaction was excruciatingly cute as she alternated between a flurry of astonishment, shock, and content. She admired the little white ramekin with a bliss-filled expression on her face for a moment before looking up at you with wide eyes.

“How is it?” you smiled.

“There’s only one thing at this table I’d rather eat,” she moaned.

“Huh? What would you… oh,” you facepalmed, disappointed that you fell for her cheesiness.

“Have you brought Chaewon here before?” Kazuha asked with a smile, proud of herself as she took another bite.

“Not yet,” you answered, thinking back to the time when you brought Sakura here.

“I think she’d like it.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll bring her next time.”

“Or you can just bring me again,” Kazuha giggled, scraping her spoon around the bottom of the dish.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Depends, will you take me out?”

“After tonight? Always.”

“Then let’s talk about where you’re taking me while you drive me home,” Kazuha smiled, wiping her lips with her napkin and standing up.

Despite her suggestion, you drove her back to the dorm in silence. Suddenly, Kazuha seemed to be a bit nervous, you even noticed her leg shaking slightly, but you decided not to comment on it. Once you got to the dorm, you contemplated whether or not you should come in, but your decision was made when Kazuha stopped walking two steps away from your car and looked over her shoulder expectantly.

Still, without saying any words, you walked Kazuha all the way to her room. All the other members were nowhere to be seen, the house was mostly silent. As you got to Kazuha’s door, she turned around and looked at you with slightly blushed cheeks.

“Tonight was fun,” she said softly.

“Yeah, it was,” you replied, trying to figure out what she wanted.

“Do you…” she began before stopping.

“Do I?”

Kazuha leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on your mouth before leaning back.

“Goodnight!” she shouted before hurrying into her room, closing the door behind her.

“Goodnight…”

—

“Still awake?”

She answered by cheerily patting the bed next to where she was sitting with a tablet in her lap.

“Whose fancam are you…” you began asking as you sat down and looked at the screen. “You’re watching your own fancam.”

“Yah! Stop judging me, I like to monitor myself, so what,” Chaewon complained as she turned off the screen and leaned over to place the device on her side table, the blanket lifting off her as she bent over, flashing you her bright pink underwear. “Did you have fun with Zuha?” she asked as she leaned back, cuddling into your arms.

“I did,” you mumbled as you ran your fingers through Chaewon’s short hair. “Kazuha’s great.”

“I know,” Chaewon laughed into your chest, laying her face on you. “Where is she now?”

“In her bed, I think.”

“Wow, didn’t you guys just get home? Guess you had some stamina issues tonight,” Chaewon teased. “Not that I blame you, Zuha is a hottie.”

“We didn’t.”

Chaewon lifted herself up and looked you in the face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want to sleep with her.”

“Of course I want to,” you replied. “You said it yourself, she’s a hottie.”

“Do you not believe me when I say it’s fine?” Chaewon asked, face full of confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“No, I do,” you said, rubbing your hand against her back. “I literally just told you I want to sleep with her, would I do that if I didn’t believe you?”

“Probably,” Chaewon smirked. “You tend to gush over her a lot.”

“That’s true,” you smiled back. “She’s just so… precious.”

“Wanna give it another try tomorrow?” she asked nonchalantly while spinning in the bed and reaching for her phone.

“Why does it seem like you really want me to sleep with Kazuha?” you questioned while placing both hands on her ass, pressing into the pink panties.

“You don’t get jealous when I fool around with Kkura and Yunjin, why should I get jealous if you fool around with Zuha?” she answered without turning back around, flipping through her phone.

“So, what about that surprise?” you asked slyly as your hands squeezed and played with her supple ass. “Do you still wanna get all sore?”

“The condition for the surprise was that you actually slept with her,” Chaewon tutted, rolling onto her stomach and taking her shirt off.

“What an odd reality,” you said while climbing over her legs, straddling her lower body. “It really feels like my girlfriend is begging me to sleep with one of her friends.”

“I have… my reasons…” Chaewon grunted as you pressed down into her body.

“How’s the comeback stuff going?” you asked while working on the knots in her shoulders.

“It’s… good… busy…” she moaned, tossing her phone to the side and leaning her face into her pillow. “Lower please.”

“Not too much though, I hope?” you continued down her body, reaching around her chest to give her tits a quick grope before working her middle back.

“I can handle it,” she said before releasing a drawn out breath through her teeth. “Oh yes…”

“I know you can handle it,” you said, moving farther down her spine, pressing into her lower back.

“Ah fuck,” she cried out, arching her back slightly.

“Sorry.”

“No,” she moaned. “More.”

“So,” you continued, sliding lower on her body and working her lower back. “Why are you so fixated on me and Kazuha?”

“She’s being shy,” Chaewon grunted as your fingers explored her muscles. “I just want her to open up.”

“Open up…” you repeated, rubbing your thumbs in small circles, pressing harder.

“Yeah,” Chaewon continued. “She’s never gone all the way with me, I want her…”

Your hands paused the massage. She turned her head just a little into the pillow and tried to get you to keep going by reaching behind her. You jerked your arm away and slapped her ass, secretly admiring the jiggle while she whined until you started your massage again.

“It’s not like that,” Chaewon said, clearly smiling despite hiding her face in the pillow.

“I feel used.”

“Oh boo hoo you have to sleep with a gorgeous girl,” Chaewon laughed, turning around under you so that she was laying on her back. “What ever will you do.”

“I didn’t know this was how you actually felt,” you sighed, exaggerating your disappointment as you cupped her tits in your hands. “Turns out I’m just a tool for you to get what you want.”

“You’re not actually upset, are you?” Chaewon asked, propping herself up on her elbows slightly.

“I can’t even look at you the same way anymore,” you monologued dramatically, sliding your fingers down from her tits and rubbing her abs.

“Sweetie.”

“Even as I touch these abs, I don’t even feel Chaewon anymore, all I can think about is Kazuha.”

“Hey!” Chaewon pouted. “That’s mean.”

You leaned forward and kissed her tummy before sitting back up and smiling at her.

“Sorry, too far?”

She fell onto her back, crossing her arms, lips still pouted.

“I was just kidding,” you pleaded, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around her. “Sweetheart, no mad.”

She didn’t stop pouting until you kissed her on the lips.

“I love your body,” you whispered into her mouth before kissing her again. “It’s perfect.”

“Tomorrow,” Chaewon replied, kissing you back. “She has to - stay late - surprise - her,” she breathed between kisses.

“I better be invited when Kazuha ‘opens up’ to you,” you smirked, laying next to her.

“Alright, the truth is she asked me directly,” Chaewon confessed, turning on her side to face you.

“Asked you what?” you implored. “I know you said she found me cute, but…”

“Yes,” Chaewon answered. “I know she wants to go all the way with you, because she straight up told me.”

“Then why does she keep…” you thought aloud. “Ah, okay I think I get it.”

“See what I mean about her being shy now?” Chaewon added. “I love both of you so much, I really don’t mind if it happens as long as it stays physical.”

What if it doesn��t stay physical you thought silently.

“Also, if things work out well, it’s better for me,” Chaewon continued.

“How so?”

Her lips curled up slyly as she slipped her hand between your legs.

“Zuha and I made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” you asked as Chaewon slipped her hand into your pants.

“I’ll tell you after you help me fulfill my end.”

“Some encouragement would help,” you suggested as she lowered your pants to your knees and began sliding under the sheets.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Sweetheart I’m joking, you don’t have to,” you said as she ignored you, disappearing beneath the sheets. “I know you’re tired.”

Still, she didn’t speak, her mouth instead planted itself on your cock. A symphony of sensations unfolded, amplified by the fact that you couldn’t even see her, only feel. Her warm lips enveloped your cock, gentle, tantalizing suction dancing along your sensitivity.

The wetness of her tongue created a blissful contrast of feelings as it explored every ridge and contour. The skilled caresses of Chaewon’s tongue around your cock felt divine - she knew what you liked. The pressure and rhythm of her lips were perfect, invoking a deeper sense of desire within you.

“Oh Chaewon baby that feels…” you moaned out softly. “Oh fuck…”

Her tongue, the perfect instrument to your pleasure, invoked a myriad of sensations through your body. Her talent as a dancer, the body control, the skill, it all condensed into her tongue as she expertly sent shivers up your spine. Her tongue managed to stay nimble and agile despite her lips plunging up and down your length.

“Baby…”

Waves of pleasure coursed through you, heightening the sensitivity in your cock. The gentle flicks and swirls, the occasional press against your shaft and your tip, she managed to do it all while keeping her head bobbing up and down.

Not being able to see her working her magic turned out to be the greatest travesty - one you could not accept any longer even though it enhanced the feel. You flung the sheets off the bed, revealing Chaewon’s perfect topless body. She looked up at you, never losing pace, her eyes full of pride and confidence, her mouth stretched over your cock.

It was almost embarrassing to admit you were already feeling your orgasm creeping up. All that subtle foreplay was catching up with you, and seeing Chaewon with her lips wrapped around your cock was the impetus for your climax.

“Chae chae, I’m close…” you moaned softly, earning a seductive wink from her, the nonverbal permission.

Your arousal built up, reaching the peak, turning your body into a vessel of sensations. Waves of pleasure surged through you, spreading like an electric current. The muscles in your thighs contracted, tense, stressed by the anticipation of your cock being moments away from coating the inside of Chaewon’s pretty little mouth.

Your heart began to race, breaths rapid, and your mind quickly became overwhelmed with euphoria. The pleasure suddenly culminated, focused directly into Chaewon’s mouth as that first blast of cum launched itself down her throat.

It was as if the universe paused itself for you, converging into that single, exquisite moment. Your body convulsed, pulsating as you filled her mouth with your cum. Pure bliss, ecstasy, filled your mind as the contractions flowed through you like waves.

The pleasure left you breathless, completely unable to do anything but lay there and let Chaewon suck up the final donations leaking out of your cock. It was too much, even with her licks being as delicate as possible, you shivered each time her tongue rubbed against you.

“I fucking love you,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight, hearing one last giggle before fading to darkness.

—

The next day, after the other four members had already left the offices, you took Chaewon’s advice. You walked through the halls until you found Kazuha by herself in a small lounge, reading something on the wall while pouring herself some water.

“You’re here late,” you said as you walked up, pretending as if it was a coincidence.

Her face lit up as she turned to see you.

“Oh, hey cutie,” she purred, leaning backwards against the small countertop. “Chaewon already went back to the dorms.”

“I’m not here for Chaewon,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“So who are you here for,” she smirked, leaning closer to you.

“Uh, have you seen Sakura around?” you asked, pretending to look around.

Kazuha was visibly irked at your joke, unable to hide her annoyance.

“She’s also at the dorm,” Kazuha replied, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

You smirked, loving the not-so-subtle jealousy she was displaying. It felt nice flipping the tables on her from time to time, becoming the one who does the teasing for a change.

“Cool, but I’m not looking for her either,” you moved even closer. “I can’t move much closer,” you whispered, lips practically touching hers at this point.

“Say you want me,” Kazuha moaned quietly, gripping the counter until her knuckles turned white.

“I. Want. You.”

She lunged forward before the last syllable even finished leaving your mouth. You almost fell over with how much passion was behind the kiss, grabbing onto her fit body for support.

“Holy shit Kazuha,” you gasped as she held herself in front of you with the prettiest smile you could imagine. “How about we go somewhere more private before you get in trouble?”

“Yeah,” she turned around, picking her jacket up off the counter. “You can’t just be kissing me at work like that, you should know better.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “It’s like you don’t care about the rules at all.”

“I’m pretty sure-” you froze mid sentence, jaw dropping to the floor as Kazuha pulled her pants down, flashing her ass at you. “Kazuha!”

“Come on, you can drive me,” she giggled, quickly pulling her pants back up and grabbing your hand.

This girl was something else, you thought to yourself.

—

“The dorm will be so packed right now.”

“My place is empty,” you suggested. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

“You’re taking me back to your place? Isn’t that inappropriate?” Kazuha asked in her classic playfully teasing tone.

“It’s only inappropriate if you make it inappropriate.”

“I can do that,” she purred, leaning over the gear shift, looking up at you while hovering over your lap.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” you laughed, trying to focus on the road.

“Come on,” she whined. “You still haven’t shown me that cock that Chaewon keeps talking about.”

Kazuha sat up straight, smile on her face, as a car blaring its horn flew past you.

“You’re going to get us into an accident,” you sighed, locking both hands onto the steering wheel.

“Oh I’m sorry,” she cooed. “Maybe you need to punish me.”

Focusing was impossible, Kazuha was in too much of a mood this afternoon. You tried to ignore it, but the involuntary glances you shot at her just made it so much more difficult to focus. She had her arms up over her head, tying her hair back in a ponytail, the hair tie in her mouth as she fumbled around. Her sleeveless top flaunting her bare arms without any care, her toned muscles flexing as her fingers worked around, and the smallest little bit of cleavage peeking over the low-cut neck.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Kazuha asked nonchalantly as she took the tie out of her mouth. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yeah, love it,” you stuttered, not realizing how obvious you were being.

Kazuha reached over and slowly pulled one of your hands off the steering wheel, dragging it over to her chest. You tried to keep your eyes focused on the road, ignoring her games despite how difficult it was. As you pulled up to a red light, Kazuha moved your hand lower, placing it between her legs.

“Can you feel how wet I am?” she moaned softly.

There was a smirk plastered across her lips, one you could only see in your periphery as you started driving again. She began rubbing your hand around, using you like a toy to get herself off. Then she moved your hand towards her waistband, threatening to slide it into her pants.

“Stop stop stop, we’re here,” you yanked your hand away as you pulled up into your parking garage. “You know these windows aren’t tinted, right?”

“Yeah, and the office is full of cameras, what’s your point?”

“Holy shit you’re right,” you gasped as you put the car in park. “What got into you today?”

“Hopefully you, soon,” she answered provocatively.

“I don’t know, Chaewon was extra touchy today, and then you came and started kissing me,” she said casually while getting out of the car. “Also, relax, there weren’t any cameras there.”

She basically skipped to the elevators as you followed closely behind. At times Kazuha would remind you a lot of how Chaewon would act around you; She was just so happy and excited.

“I want to do it,” Kazuha stated as the two of you entered the elevator.

“Aren’t you a bit old to ask to push the button,” you smirked as you pressed the button to your floor.

“Not that,” she whined cutely. “Take off your pants.”

You couldn’t even respond to her audacity because the door opened right after and two other people entered the elevator. For the next few floors, Kazuha wouldn’t stop giggling, right up until they both left.

“Oh my God Kazuha,” you laughed as the elevator reached your floor.

“Which one’s yours?” she asked joyfully, running ahead of you.

“Left side, third door.”

She ran up to it and turned around, watching you walk towards her. She raised one leg up towards the roof, pressing it against the wall, showing off her flexibility as she was basically performing a standing splits.

“What are you doing?” you laughed as you inserted your key.

“Stretching,” Kazuha answered, rushing into your apartment as soon as you opened the door. She ran in, kicked her shoes off, and jumped onto your couch. “Wow, why doesn’t Chaewon just move into here, it’s so nice!”

“I’ve offered, but she likes living with you guys,” you replied as you took off your jacket and shoes. “Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really been sleeping here that much lately.”

“What mess?” Kazuha responded carelessly as she ripped her shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

“Zuha, what are you doing?”

“Huh? Nothing,” she said, faking innocence as she pulled off her sweatpants. “It’s just kinda warm in here, you don’t mind, right?”

“Right,” you said carefully, trying not to stare too much as she stripped all the way down to her underwear.

“Hey, do you mind helping me?”

“How so?” you inquired, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

“I’m cold, can you warm me up?” she asked.

“What the-”

“Please!” she whined, with that cute pout as she stretched her arms out wide.

With a shake of your head, you succumbed to her games and lay down on the couch with her, unable to contain your smile as she happily held onto you. She nestled her cheek against yours, the floral tones of her shampoo filling your senses.

The impromptu hug turned into an exploration of Kazuha’s body as she started rubbing herself all over you, making you feel around. She guided your hands around her back while she wrapped her legs around your hips, sensually grinding on you.

She began yanking at your shirt until she got what she wanted, leaving you topless on top of her. Now it was her turn to explore, her hands having fun sliding around your bare torso, wrapping around and feeling your back. She slipped them lower, starting to unbuckle your pants.

“Hold on,” you stopped her. “Are you sure?”

“I want to see you,” she whispered.

Her expression was soft, for a second it felt like she was your girlfriend. You stood up from the couch and pulled over a chair, sitting in front of her after removing your pants.

“You sure you wanna keep going?” you asked as she also sat up on the couch, facing you, both of you only wearing your underwear now.

Kazuha reached behind her back, unstrapped her bra, and let it fall into her lap before nodding at you. As she spread her legs slightly, you could see a very noticeable wet patch on her crotch, staining her gray underwear. You stuck your hips out forward slightly, leaning back in the chair, and gestured downwards.

She slid off the couch onto her knees, crawled the two steps forward and reached up with both hands. You lifted your hips, making it easier for her, and she slowly lowered your underwear. Her face was full of anticipation, finally getting her wish. Your cock sprung to life, already mostly erect, in front of the topless girl.

“I…” Kazuha choked, gazed locked on your cock.

You grabbed her by her arms and pulled her up, forcing her to look at you before you kissed her softly on the lips.

“Say you want me,” you whispered to her.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, contemplation maybe, but you were in no rush. If she was ready, then you were ready, the choice was hers.

“I want you,” she whispered back.

Her words rang through your ears over and over as you slid your hands down her body and pulled her panties down to her ankles. She stood there, her shining pussy right in front of your face, until you leaned forward in the chair and pressed your lips to it.

The wetness immediately coated your lips, satisfying the taste buds in your mouth. With how wet she was, it was clear she was ready, you were simply getting your own fix as you licked her freely. Her hands ran through your hair, quiet whimpers escaping her lips while you worked her pussy with your mouth.

Once you were satisfied and thought she was ready, you leaned back and took hold of her hands. You looked into her eyes, her flushed face a warm red as you pulled her closer until she was standing right above you, her legs straddling you. You softly tugged at her hands, encouraging her to lower herself until her wet pussy made contact with your cock.

Then you stopped. You focused on her, made sure she was actually ready, made sure she wanted this. After giving her hand a squeeze, one which she reciprocated, you simply held yourself there, waiting for her to make the next move.

Kazuha bit her lower lip, and after a few moments of just holding herself there, she lowered her body. A sharp gasp left her mouth as your tip began stretching her pussy. It took a second to adjust, but there was absolutely no rush. When she was ready to continue, she lowered herself some more, gritting her teeth as your cock filled her pussy up.

For you, the warmth of her pussy created the most exquisite pressure around your cock. A soft, pliable mold, shaped just for you as Kazuha’s intimate embrace filled your mind with sensation. A gentle gripping feeling as her pussy flipped between contracting and relaxing, even without thrusting into her, it felt phenomenal.

She lowered herself some more, taking even more of your cock, building up the excitement of her first time, her face full of vulnerability. You let her move at her own pace, you wanted this to be as comfortable as possible for her.

Every time she moved lower, a cascade of pleasure ran through your body, the intimacy and desire coursing through your veins.

“It’s tight,” she moaned, voice full of strain.

“Breath,” you whispered back, keeping the pressure up on her limp fingers. “Take your time.”

Kazuha closed her eyes and started breathing through her mouth, her breath hitting your face. The way her breath hit your skin could put a masseuse to shame, and she didn't even know it. She had no idea how much she turned you on - or maybe she did.

“You’re doing great,” you encouraged her.

Her face was still scrunched up, adjusting to the new sensation, but a hint of pride snuck through. Slowly, she made that last little push, sitting on your thighs, taking your entire cock. Her lifeless fingers regained strength, and she began squeezing your hands painfully hard.

That wasn’t an issue for you, the tightness of her grip was still nothing compared to the tightness of her pussy around your cock. The warmth, the wetness, she was perfect. After a few seconds, she began to slowly move up and down, getting truly accustomed to your size.

“Ah,” she moaned softly as she bounced slowly. “Yes…”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you moaned back, your words encouraging her to move faster.

She rode your cock for a bit longer, eventually picking up the pace quite a bit. Her pussy was stretching out, getting extremely comfortable on your cock. She even began to build up a slight sweat, her shining little tits bouncing up and down in front of your face.

The two of you felt like you had a connection. Some sort of bond, as if you were both born specifically to fuck each other one day. All that sexual tension released, flooding out of your bodies as you finally got to fuck Kazuha’s tight pussy - something you’ve thought about for a long time.

Her hands released yours, and she placed them on your shoulders for support as she fucked herself on you. It felt so good, her body felt as amazing as it looked. Her breathing began to elevate, and her hips started moving in different directions.

Maybe it was her experience as a dancer, but a girl as pretty as Kazuha had no right knowing how to move like this during her first time. Why did it feel like she just had everything? A true natural talent. It made no sense, was this girl just perfect in every sense? All her teasing, all her flirting, everything that led up to this one moment suddenly flooded through your body.

“Please, fuck me,” she cried out, voice cracking, pitch higher than either of you expected.

Who were you to deny such a request? You grabbed onto her hips, her own hands pressing slightly harder into your shoulders as she stopped moving up and down, bracing for what was to come. With her body in your grip, you started to thrust your hips upwards.

You started to really fuck Kazuha.

Apparently that did it for her as the slapping noises filled your living room, she began to shout profanities of pleasure, even switching to Japanese halfway through her slurry of moans. It didn’t matter that you had no idea what the words meant, you knew exactly what she was saying. Your cock couldn’t handle it much longer, this was the first time you’ve fucked someone to the point of reverting them to their native tongue, and it felt better than you could have ever anticipated.

The girl who didn’t sweat was glistening. You couldn’t control your hands as they explored every inch of Kazuha’s skin that they could reach: Her back, her ass, her hips, anything you could touch, you touched. Without ever letting up, your hips kept pumping away, her moans very clearly screaming how much she loved your cock inside her as you pulled her into your body.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you groaned into her neck, licking up a few beads of sweat. Your tongue roamed all over her soft and tender body. “I’m going to fucking cum,” you whispered into her sternum before moving your mouth lower. “You’re going to make me cum.”

For just a second, you paused your thrusting to give yourself the chance to keep going - you didn’t want this to end yet. Kazuha’s body, however, didn’t get any break. With your cock still balls deep in her pussy as it trembled, you forcefully cupped one of her tits in your hand before shoving it into your mouth.

“Ah!” she moaned as your lips made contact with her nipple. “Keep going.”

Your body complied - your hips began to thrust again. This time you started up slowly, feeling sharp waves fly through your body each time your cock pumped into her. Each thrust felt like it could be the last, the one that pushes you over the edge, yet by some miracle you were holding on.

Why you couldn’t keep going slowly, you had no idea, but your hips had a mind of their own. Kazuha’s pussy refused to be gently taken - realistically it was your cock that was being uncooperative. It didn’t matter. What did matter was Kazuha’s pleasure becoming your pleasure. Her moans, her cries, they fueled you.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned out quietly as if it was a great struggle to speak. One of her hands found the back of your head, enticing you to keep your mouth pressed to her chest. “Don’t stop.”

There was no desire to stop, none at all. Literally none. You wanted to fuck Kazuha’s pussy all night if you could, if she would let you, if your body would let you, but you knew your time was coming soon. An impossible dilemma that you simply could not solve. You released her nipple and ran your tongue across her chest, trying to distract yourself, but that salty tang of her skin just brought you that much closer.

Your best efforts were nowhere near enough. Kazuha’s body, that perfectly sculpted body of a goddess, took over. It was too intense, the sharp fire coursing through the nerves in your cock, half of your body shaking as you fucked her with the last little bit of whatever you had left in you.

“Oh fuck!” Kazuha screamed directly into your ear.

Her loudest of the evening, and it was just as soon as your cock began unloading. Could she feel it? You certainly could feel every drop of warmth fly up into her body. Filling her pussy, fighting against gravity until it failed and spilled out of her tight little pussy. The warmth began spilling onto your thighs, the wet combination of Kazuha and your cum was the last thing you felt before your mind blanked out entirely.

It was a mess (mess mess mess), yet you refused to let go of her. You needed her body, you were holding onto her for dear life, and she was holding back just as hard. Warm and covered in sweat, her body was still trembling, you could feel waves flowing through her. She must have finished at the same time as you, a rare coincidence that you failed to even notice in the moment.

The only sounds in the entire room were Kazuha’s deep breaths and the kisses you were planting all over her tits. You were just filled with affection for this girl, all of a sudden she became that much more special to you. All the wait, all the delays, none of that mattered anymore. Your relationship with Kazuha would never be the same after this night, and you didn’t care.

“That was…” Kazuha sighed, her grip on your body relaxing but not letting go.

“Yeah,” you quickly replied before continuing the barrage of kisses on her chest.

“Don’t,” she protested, her voice cuter than normal. “I’m all sweaty.”

You kissed her one last time before looking up at her. Her face was completely flushed, slightly dewy from sweat, her lips pursed, her beautifully healthy hair sticking to her forehead. You ignored her embarrassment, she had nothing to be shy about, and started moving towards her mouth. Right before your lips connected, she licked her lips.

This one was special. The more you kissed her, the more she kissed you, it was completely balanced. Aggressive, maybe, but still incredibly tender. Your hands slid up and down her hips, fingers rubbing against the greatest abs in the industry, while her hands remained fixed on your face as she held you.

Time didn’t exist anymore, the two of you kissed for far too long, but neither of you wanted to stop. Eventually your hands made their way down to her ass, gently massaging it, squeezing the firm yet soft cheeks. How was her body so perfect? It was all you could think about.

Whenever you tried to pull back to stop the kiss, she pushed forward harder, refusing to let you go. It was easier to just let it happen, kiss her forever, as long as she wanted. Just when it felt like the kiss would actually last forever, the two of you slowly separated.

With your help, she carefully stood up off your lap. As she pulled herself off your cock, clearly still extremely sensitive, a rush of cum spilled out, adding to the mess on your thighs. She stood in front of you, letting it drip out of her, using your shoulders for support to keep herself upright.

With one hand, using the utmost care, you slowly began rubbing her between her legs. The sharp inhale through her teeth, the hard - subconscious - squeeze of your shoulder, she couldn’t hide how sensitive her body was.

“Are you alright?” you whispered as you lightly brushed your fingers against her most sensitive area.

“It’s…” she moaned, looking at you with her brows furrowed.

You reached forward and picked her up from her thighs, being as gentle as possible as you carried her over to your bed and placed her down. She looked so unbelievably adorable, laying there completely nude, her hair splayed across the bed.

“Can I stay?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course you can, I’ll drop you off in the morning.”

A single nod, as if she was still embarrassed, is all she answered with. You couldn’t leave her now, not after that, so you lay down next to her on the bed, not caring about the sheets being soiled by the aftermath of your session.

Kazuha turned to her side, her arm going straight up towards the head of the bed with the side of her face resting against her bicep, and stared lovingly into your eyes.“Thanks for tonight,” she whispered, a light smile blessing her face.

---

A/N:

Finally, it's here, I'm sorry for dangling this in front of your faces for so long. I really really really hope it lived up to the expectations, I didn't mean to hype it up so much!

Just a quick life update, I'm going to be incredibly busy going forward. No, I'm not quitting, I'll still write in my free time. I just wanted to let you guys know there might be some longer breaks between my uploads. This also means there might be more typos/small mistakes, I'll try to catch them all, but please be understanding!

Regarding the story, please do let me know if you guys are still enjoying it! I'll be honest, I quite enjoyed this chapter myself, it was a fun write. I don't know if I quite did it justice, but there's plenty of time for improvement; This is only Chapter 7!

#kpop smut #smut #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #male reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #chaewon #chaewon smut #kazuha #kazuha smut

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thebestofoneshots · 7 months

Text

MARAUDWEEEN

Feels Like The First Time | James Potter x reader

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 6 k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, bashful!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.

Prompt: As a part of the Marauween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where James Potter is a fireman, telling the story of how you met, and how your first time came about.

Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.

NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡

“What can I get you, sir?” You asked, not looking up from the register as you were trying to close the tab of the previous order. The machine had been acting up lately and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed to take its sweet time between closing an old order and opening the feed to start a new one.

You were almost scowling at it when you heard a low chuckle from behind the counter, you instantly recognized it. The cute fireman, you felt your cheeks flush at the thought.

“Everything all right, angel?” he asked, voice soft even as a little smirk played on his lips.

“James!” you said with a smile, deciding to ignore the machine and talk to the man instead. He lived a few blocks away, in your same building, and he always passed by the shop to get some coffee and a snack before he finished his walk to work. Sometimes he came on his way back too, he was over so often, that you almost knew his orders by memory, “Americano?”

He shook his head “I’m feeling up for something sweeter today.”

You hummed in response, running his typical orders in your head “Late with a pump of strawberry?”

He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about it, you couldn’t help to let your eyes linger over his uniform. He’d typically alternate between blue, yellow and grey. Today he was wearing grey and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look disarmingly attractive. He was big and well built too, but that was a lot easier to appreciate on hotter days when he wasn’t wearing his jacket on top of the usual either crisp white or neat black shirt, “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

You smiled and started writing down the details in his cup. When you realised there was no one on the line behind him, you decided to prepare his drink yourself, instead of passing it over to Marcus, your coworker, and better barista between the two. James knew, and yet, he much better liked the drinks you prepared.

“Want me to add a bit of whipped cream?” You asked.

“You spoil me,” he said with a smile, you turned to give him a questioning look, a smile playing on your lips as he nodded, perhaps that’s why he liked your drinks best, they almost always came along with a smile.

“You do spoil him,” Marcus added as he used one of the machines to draw pictures over a latte.

You gave him a pout as an answer and continued with your preparation. Once it was done you turned around, Marcus had gone off to tend some table and you walked over to James, handing him his cup straight to his hands. His fingers lingered over yours as he took it from you and you felt your stomach flutter, “I’d add some cinnamon for spice,” you told him, he nodded and walked over to the sugar table, doing exactly as you told him.

“Hey, James?”

“Hmm…?”

“Good luck at work today,” you added with a smile, Marcus from one of the tables almost rolled his eyes, while James’ smile only widened.

There was a huge fire that day, you saw it on the news on the small TV in the corner of the shop, one of the old buildings near the centre of the city had caught fire. Since it had been during work hours there hadn’t been that many people inside, and thankfully no one died but about 2 dozen had ended up in the hospital due to smoke toxicity. Or so was reporting the news lady.

“Do you think James’s all right?” you asked, turning to Marcus with a little frown.

“Why don’t you go home and check on him? He lives almost in front of you anyway. This happened about an hour ago, he might be there soon...”

You nodded, and hurried with the wiping of tables, still looking a bit nervous and rushed “I’ll finish up closing,” he added.

“Thank you,” you said as you went to pick up your stuff and remove your uniform from the back room.

Marcus called your name, you turned to him “Bring him something. His favourite treat of whatever… I’m sure you already know it by memory.”

“I… Well, I mean…”

“Don’t play dumb and just take it to him, whatever it might be. Would serve you well, maybe admit that you like him as well.”

You flushed “Shut it, Marcus.”

“He likes you back, did you know?” You gave him a look “Hey it’s true! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“He’s just polite.”

“Polite my ass, he’s never looked at me like that. Go on, knock on his door, patch him up and admit your crush. Maybe get it going with him too. What do you think he’d look like with those snug pants and a pair of suspenders? Only a pair of suspenders.”

You flushed a lot more this time around, the image floating to your brain unprompted, and you weren’t able to shake it off that easily. Curse your imaginative mind and Markus’ dirty one to put the idea in your head.

“So… his favourite treat?”

“It’s the lemon tart,” you admitted reluctantly. “He orders it whenever he’s feeling down. And also after bad days.” Markus smiled and leaned down to take two of them and place them on a small box for you to take home, “Thank you.”

“Thank me when you’ve seen him with only pants and suspenders!” he joked, and you shook your head in disbelief, a smile still plastered on your face as you did.

You got home after a short walk and went straight for a quick shower. It was then that you heard the thud of heavy boots in the hallway. He was walking towards his apartment. You hurried to finish and changed into simple shorts and a sweatshirt before walking the 2 door distance to his apartment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, you considered leaving, your nerves getting the best of you, but you remembered you still had the lemon tarts and decided to try again. This time you heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing James, still wearing his uniform, hair clinging onto his face from sweat and blotches of soot patching his cheeks, he looked tired, but he smiled the moment he saw who it was at the door. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.”

You swallowed, his gaze having a powerful effect on you “I… I uh… I saw the news and well, I assumed you had been there, I guess I was right,” you added after gesturing toward your face, trying to refer to how blotchy he was “I thought I’d come to check if you were all right… I also brought you some of those lemon tarts you really like.”

He stared at you for a second, as if trying to process the fact that you really had taken the trouble to bring him food, just because he’d had a tough day. When he realised you really were there, and not only a fragment of his imagination, he smiled “You picked my favourites,” he said pointing at the box.

You gulped, as if scared of getting caught but nodded “You… order them often,” you said with a shrug.

He hummed “And you know all of your client’s orders?” he asked, a flirty tone slipping as he moved to the side to let you in, nodding towards the kitchen, although you already knew where it was, since the layout of his apartment was almost an exact mirror of yours.

“Only the ones of my favourites,” you responded, which got him to raise his eyebrows as he pulled out two plates and a pair of forks, placing them on the counter. You opened the small box and gracefully served one of the pies on each of the plates, he didn’t wait too long to dig in, moaning at the sweet and acidic flavour.

“You’re the absolute best,” he told you as he continued to eat “Getting this after a fire might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You just giggled at his exaggeration, you didn’t know he didn’t mean only the pie, but also your company. As the two of you finished your meal, you stood up to go back to your apartment but he stopped you, a hand gripping softly onto your forearm “Hey wait!” You turned to him “Let me pay you back.”

You gasped and then shook your head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I get free treats since I work there.” But he didn’t let go of your arm just yet.

You saw him bite his cheek, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words “Regardless, I– Let me take you out, yeah?”

“Out… to the door?” You asked with a frown “I mean I know where it is but–”

“Out on a date.”

“You want to– Me?!?” He nodded fervently in response.

“So...?”

You smiled, you were sure you were blushing madly but his nervousness only made him even more adorable “I’d love that.”

He’d taken you to a small Italian restaurant that his friend Sirius had recommended, he told you about his life, about how he got into firefighting and you told him about yours, how you were working at the cafe as a side job to pay for your online studies. He thought you were a hero, which was almost ridiculous because if anyone was saving people between the two, it had been him.

After that date you went on many others, he frequented the cafe a lot more often, sometimes to order something, sometimes to drop by a bouquet of roses or some other kind of flower. Markus had teased you relentlessly after that, but he really was happy to see you happy. He also started giving you treats to take home a lot more often, but that was because he knew you were always sharing them with James.

“Thanks love, see you at dinner?” James asked as he took the takeaway coffee cup from your hands, you had written “Prongs,” and drew a pair of antlers on it just to tease him, since he’d told you about his friends giving him that nickname in school.

You nodded in response “Sure, want me to bring something?”

He leaned over the counter as if it were about to say something of the utmost secrecy “How about some of those chocolate tarts?” he whispered.

“Sounds about perfect to me,” you agreed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling back. He smiled dumbly after that and waved on the way out, almost bumping into a tall teacher who was also your regular.

“Watch your step, lover boy,” he told him. That day you found out Remus –the teacher who was a regular– and your boyfriend not only knew each other, but had been best friends for the longest time. He’d told you about him many, many times, but you had no way of knowing the calm, concentrated teacher who sat on his laptop grading students was the same mastermind prankster he always called Moony.

“So… how does he look in suspenders?” Markus asked you as he eyed your boyfriend finally leaving.

“Oh… well, I mean… I haven’t– we haven’t-“

“Shut it,” he said turning to you “You’ve been dating for a while now, like 2 months, right? Didn’t you tell me you slept at his apartment the other night?”

“Yeah, I mean, I did… I fell asleep watching the telly and he didn’t want to wake me.”

“I thought you meant something else…” he said as he shook his head “Maybe he’s asexual,” he added with a shrug “Total bummer for you.”

You frowned “I don’t think he– I think he’s just trying to be a gentleman.”

Markus shook his head, unconvinced “Have you tried to initiate anything?”

“We’ve snogged a couple of times.”

“And when it gets more heated?”

You shrugged “Don’t know what to tell ya.”

He hummed “You need to try harder.”

“I need to try?”

“Well to find out at least, don’t you want to?”

You shrugged it off then, but truth be told, the idea had already cemented itself in your brain. You paid closer attention to the times you snogged after that. Be it on the couch, or the counter of yours or his kitchen, it was always romantic kisses and even if he certainly seemed affected, be it his ragged breath, pink lips or expanded pupils, he never pushed for more. Perhaps he really was waiting for you to initiate things.

A few nights later, there was another fire, you had already gotten the key to his apartment so you waited over at his, bringing over some cream puffs and setting yourself on the couch while you waited. He arrived a little late, covered in soot like he had that first time you walked into his house with lemon tarts in your hand. He smiled the moment he spotted you on his sofa “Fancy seeing you here, darling,” he teased, echoing the words he’d said that first night.

You smiled “How are you feeling?” you asked.

He sighed, his shoulders slumped at that “We couldn’t… One of them didn’t make it.” You frowned, you knew he’d torment himself about it all night, so you walked over to him, taking a wet towel as he sat near the counter and started wiping some of the soot from his face.

“‘S not your fault.”

“But if we had gotten there sooner maybe–“

You pulled his chin, making his eyes look straight into yours “Jamie,” you said sternly, trying to ground him “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed again “I know, I know…” he said, and buried his head in your neck, smelling your perfume as he grabbed onto your hips, “Stay over tonight?” he asked “Please, I don’t– I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.”

You smiled, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing it lightly over his messy hair before settling it at the nape of his neck “Of course, my love,” you responded simply, and pulled his shoulders back to look straight at his face “come on, let’s get to the sofa, maybe we can play something on the telly to get your mind off things.”

He pouted “I’m sweaty, and I smell of charred wood.”

You tilted your head, a small smile drawing on your lips “I think you look sexy,” you teased, before grabbing his hand to pull him up and towards the sofa. He had a diverted look as he followed.

They were screening Karate kid for like the 5th time that week, but both of you were watching it patiently. That was until the commercial break started and you turned to James, he had a small frown on his face, almost imperceptible, as if he were trying to hide it from you, but you knew him well enough to know. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

James turned to you, a sorrowful look in his beautiful hazel eyes, “I found them, I tried, but…” You kneeled on the sofa and gave him a bone-crushing hug, or at least your version of one, since you had about half the strength he did anyway. Regardless, you heard the huff of a laugh coming from him.

You gave one last look at the telly, they were still going on some infomercial about a magical razor, yeah, no way in hell he gets distracted by that. “Hey Jaimie,” he hummed in response “How about we find another way to get your mind off things?” you asked, pulling back a little so he could see your face.

He gave you a look, “Like playing Monopoly or…” he didn’t even finish his sentence since you crashed your lips against his with a kiss. He was surprised at first but followed the kiss shortly after. Tightening his grip on your waist.

“Like this?” you said as you pulled out for air. He still had a bit of a frown, so you leaned into him again, determined to erase it with a kiss. He pretty much melted into you again, at some point you crossed your knee over his lap and you were straddling his thigh. You didn’t lean closer to him too fast, you wanted to give him some time.

Your lips started to travel from his lips to his jaw, he was right, he was sweaty, you could feel the salty taste of it as you kissed, and there was something else too, a little bit of that smoked flavour going on. You didn’t care, if anything, it really made him feel sexier. You landed on his neck, and started pressing wet kisses on a section you knew from experience he liked, and you heard a low moan coming from his throat, music to your ears.

“Wait… wait… hold up,” he said as he patted your shoulder softly, you didn’t pull back “Angel, please, I’m gross right now…”

“Don’t care,” you said between kisses “I like the way you taste.”

He stifled grunted after you said that –partly because of what you said, partly because of the way you sucked onto a particularly sensitive part of his neck– it was hard enough for him to restrain himself as it was, and you saying things like that was only making it harder.

You, without quite noticing what you were doing, started grinding against his leg, not quite against his crotch yet thought, you could still think enough to know it’d be too soon. You leaned back, trying to get to his mouth when you spotted him, he had a rather interesting expression on his face, brows furrowed, as if he was trying really hard to concentrate on something, or not to concentrate on something.

You smiled, holding back a laugh before placing your hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes, a worried look on his face “James, what is it darling?”

He swallowed, his breath was heavy, “I’m just… I’m trying not to– thinking of something else.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what was going on until you saw his gaze flicker down to his crotch.

“Oh.” You said quietly, and then, in an outburst of bravery, pulled your hand down to pat him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling it back.

“That– that’s going to make it worse.”

You smiled again, tilting your head just a little as you stared at your beautiful boyfriend “Allow me,” you said softly “I want to make it worse.” He looked at you as if he was trying to decipher whether what you were saying was true, and you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek “Pretty please?”

You had your forehead against his when he bit his lip and nodded, letting your hand free as you pushed it towards his crotch again. He was a lot harder than you had initially assumed he’d be, but you started rubbing your hand up and down regardless, feeling out his entire length which was nothing short of surprising. His head had somehow ended up on your shoulder again “fuck,” he said and trailed off with a few other curse words you weren’t sure you had heard him say before “That feels incredible Angel, You feel so good,” he whispered.

Eventually, you pulled your hand backward and he gave you the most reproachful look, “Hey… I want to be able to kiss you,” you said softly before leaning in for a kiss and finally closing the gap between your bodies. You had been wearing a pair of simple lycra shorts, so everything felt very close when you finally leaned your hips over his, grinding your core against the rough texture of his firefighter pants.

James was about to moan when you pulled him into a kiss again, so he moaned into your mouth, half attempting to return the kiss. His hands had now travelled to your hips, and he was helping you grind onto him, gripping almost a little too tight, not that you minded. If anything, you thought seeing this less controlled side of him was the hottest thing.

Your hands travelled to his jacket, he’d been so lost in thought when he arrived home that he hadn’t even taken it off, but that was fine, you could help him with that now. You found the plate box and started to unbutton it one by one, he had been so engrossed in you that he didn’t notice what you were doing until you moved your hands to his inside shirt to push the thick jacket to the side.

He helped you shrug it off and you set it to the side of the couch since you knew how much he cared for it. He gave you a smile through huddled lids and this time around he was the one pulling you towards him for another kiss.

You went to the buttons of his pants this time around, grinding on his thigh in an effort to not stop the buildup you’d already created. “Angel what are you…?”

“Material’s too rough,” you managed to mumble. His eyebrows knit in concern and he helped you in an instant. While he did that you fumbled with your shorts and took them off as fast as possible, not sparing a second glance to see where they fell on the floor, they were pretty ruined either way. He didn’t notice you had done that, not until you went back to straddle him and he felt the wet patch of your panties on his trouser. On his cock.

“Fuck dove,” he said when he realized.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost shy, thinking he might think it was gross but he shook his head.

“Don’t be, it’s fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed onto your hips again and started sliding you against him, grinding you against him. This time there was a lot more purpose behind his movements, he was quite literally rubbing you right onto his cock, you could feel it almost in between your folds through the two layers of clothing separating you from each other.

The room started feeling too hot, and you removed your hands from the back of his head and brought them to the hem of your sweatshirt, attempting to pull it off when his hands travelled to yours.

He pulled back from the kiss and stared at you, searching for your eyes “You don’t have to– Not because of the…” he took a deep breath, trying to think straight “We don’t have to do this just to distract me.”

Your expression turned soft, as you looked at him. How on earth did I get so lucky? You thought. You licked your lips, biting the bottom as you brought your hands to the side of his face. “It’s not just because of that, I want to do this Jamie, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He swallowed. “You think that sexy little uniform does nothing to me? I’m only human James.” He chuckled, eyes averting to the side in an adorably bashful expression that you were certain only James Potter would be able to pull off. When he looked back you gave him a teasing smile “Help me?” you asked again, nodding down.

This time it was he who bit back a grin, almost giving you a wink before he let his hands to the hem of your hoodie and helped you pull it off. He stared at you for a second. You were wearing a simple sports bra, nothing fancy, in fact, you’d dare say it was a little embarrassing since the bottom hem was frailing a bit already, but that didn’t seem to matter to James. He was staring at you as if he’d seen the hottest woman on earth. As if you had been wearing the most exquisite set of lingerie.

You blushed, obviously, you blushed, and hid your head on his neck so he wouldn’t notice, pretending you were going for a kiss, but he stopped you. “Hold up, I wanna enjoy the view,” he complained.

“When I’m wearing nicer underwear I’ll let you,” you said, pushing against him to go to his neck again, but he was stronger, if he didn’t want you to move, there was no way in hell you’d be able to move.

“Darling, your underwear is the last thing I’m paying attention to,” he said honestly. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you back, his eyes were blown with lust as he stared at you, at your bare shoulders he’d seen a couple of times, although not many since you started going out in winter and it still was winter. At the supple curve of your hips. At your breasts, you felt his hand twitch in your shoulder, as if he was holding himself back from touching anywhere else.

“James,” you said, getting him to turn his gaze back to your face, although you noticed it flicker down a couple of times, “You can touch.”

It was as if that had been all the permission he needed, he brought his hands down, letting them roam through your bare waist as you started to grind against him again. He was harder, if that was even possible. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his, and started trailing kisses down your neck, setting in the curve of your breasts as you continued to dry hump him.

He could see your hardened nipples through the thin cotton fabric. He’d actually seen them harden as he kissed, and then he did something you weren’t expecting, he held your waist and pulled you up a little, you almost whined at the loss of contact, but he pushed his head forward and gave an open mouth kiss to your breast, sucking and nipping through the fabric, you were now helping him hold you up with your own legs and holding onto his strong shoulders, absolutely lost in the feeling of his mouth.

He pulled back, giving you a mischievous look as he trailed his fingers over the frilled hem, there was almost an innocence to the way he was looking at you “May I?” he asked.

“Please.” He was already digging his fingers under the hem and pulling it over your head. “You too,” you added, pulling at his shirt. He quickly passed his hand to the neck of his shirt and yanked it off in a second. You gulped, you’d never seen anyone take their shirt off in such a hot way.

He was staring at you as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards his face, this time licking from the underside of your breast all the way to your nipple before he closed his mouth around it and started sucking again, without the fabric in the middle you could feel his wet tongue and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, you arched against him, and moaned his name when he bit softly.

His other hand was already massaging your other breast, kneading it and brushing his thumb over your nipple every couple of seconds. It felt incredible, and you relished on the feeling until your neediness got the best of you, “James,” you somehow managed to form the words, and grabbed the hand that was still kneading on your breast, pulling it down, to your core “Here, please.”

You saw him pull back to look at you, and he swallowed thickly but nodded, moving to kiss your neck as he traced his fingers over your wet panties “fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered between kisses. You gripped onto his shoulder a little harder, when he pressed his finger onto your folds, you were already pretty sensitive from so much rubbing onto his hard uniform pants that even the slightest touch had you on fire.

After toying with you for a bit, he slid his finger through the hem and pushed your panties to the side, digging his fingers on your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit. He found it in the blink of an eye and you were pretty much bucking your hips against his hand in search of more friction. He let out a breathy laugh “So needy,” he said before setting one of his fingers near your entrance and digging it in.

His finger was long, much longer than yours and it reached places you wouldn’t have dreamed of, he curved it in a particular way and you let out a gasp “Yes! Please, James, do that again,” you said as you panted, he obliged, and had you grinding against his hand again in no time.

“Angel you’re too tight,” he whispered as you leaned in to kiss him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his tight. He went in for another finger as you kissed him and swallowed your whimper. He was already moving his fingers and slowly opening them inside of you, trying to prepare you, in case you wanted to continue because hell knew he did.

He pressed his thumb against your clit again, he could feel you faltering on him, your hip movements becoming sloppier as he continued to rub “Jamie I’m gonna…”

He kissed your neck “Please do.”

You leaned closer to him digging your nails into the muscles of his back as you bit your bottom lip. James separated from your neck for a second to look at you, you looked fucking stunning as you whimpered and whispered his name and a few course words almost incoherently.

“So fucking stunning,” he told you with a smile. It took you a second to come back and be able to pay attention to him, to the way he was looking at you.

You huffed a laugh “Shut up Jamie,” you said with a smile as you shook your head, he still had his fingers inside you, and it looked like he didn’t have the intention to remove them any time soon.

“How are we doing?” he asked.

You frowned, “Why do you– oh.” He flicked his thumb over your clit again, thrusting his fingers in and out in a rather sharp way “James you aren’t thinking of…”

“Of course, I’m thinking of it angel, I need to see that pretty face of pure bliss on you again.”

You almost let him convince you but you shook your head. You didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, you leaned into him, making sure to let your clit rub onto his thumb again as you shifted your weight and your hips “Not until I see yours,” you whispered in his ear, bringing your hand down to the hem of his boxers and digging your hand to grope him.

He groaned at your harsh movement, but his head fell back, an expression rather similar to yours as you dragged your hands through his length.

“Help James,” you said, words cut with sharp breaths from the effort you were making to pull his boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped you do it, all the while you continued pumping him. There was already a bit of white precum coating his tip, even if the boxers had sucked up most of it, you used it to allow your hand to glide easier around him.

“Faster,” he asked, you complied, he was already bucking his hips into your hands, “fuck doll I think I’m going to– “ You instantly stopped moving your hand and his eyes snapped open, looking at you like you had betrayed him. But you didn’t give him an explanation, you used your legs to prop forwards and lined him against your entrance “Wait, doll–“ you lowered yourself onto him, “fuck.”

You gulped, allowing yourself to adjust before giving him a look, he was looking at his cock buried in you attentively, and he swallowed thickly, you didn’t wait too much after that, and started grinding onto him, “Fuck Jamie you fill me up so good,” you whispered, as if he needed any more encouragement. You thought he did since he wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t the reason he wasn’t.

He grabbed onto your hips, and halted your movement “fuck, angel, hold up– I need–“You looked at him worriedly, accidentally bucking your hips again as you tried to search for his eyes, and then you felt it. Wet and sticky, inside you. He’d cum.

He looked at you with the most mortified expression on his face, as if he was sorry “I’m– I’m so sorry I…”

You just laughed, placing your hand on his cheek to prompt him to look at you “Hey, It’s okay my love.”

“But I didn’t… Not even like 30 seconds I–“ James was completely flustered, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him that flustered before, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I’m taking it as a cumm-pliment,” you told him, he gave you a reproachful look and you gave him a peck on the lips. A small smile wavered its way towards his lips.

“That’s the– what a terrible pun,” he added. You bucked your hips against him again “fuck.”

You raised your eyebrow at him “Keep insulting my puns and I won’t help you with your little issue,” you threatened playfully as you started to buck your hips again, helping him empty himself completely. This time a lot slower, enjoying the way he felt on you, the way he was filling you up, how much easier it was to glide onto him with his warm cum all over you, some of it dripping to the side of your thigh and onto his already, you continued until he patted on your tight.

You nodded and pulled out slowly, setting yourself on his lap still. He still seemed awfully bashful, “Come on Jamie, I really don’t mind it.”

“But it was– our first time and I… ugh” he placed his hands over his face, groaning as he replayed the events in his head.

You bit your tongue not to laugh. At least he wasn’t thinking of the fire anymore. Mission success? You sighed and placed your hands onto his own and pulled them down, tilting your head a little in search for his eyes.

“How about…” you started, it seemed to gather some of his attention, although he was still looking at you with a dissatisfied expression “We go get a bath, and clean up…” you continued, he had finally lifted his head towards yours “we relax together a little,” you added, letting your fingers trace over his muscles, “we clean all the soot of that pretty face of yours,” you added, pinching his cheek which earned you a playful scowl from his part “and then chill for a while, see what happens next,” you finished, making sure your tone, raised eyebrows and half bitten bottom lip was suggestive enough. He looked at you, a diverted smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend the shower was our first time instead,” you added just to spite him.

He huffed, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on your waist and stood up, holding you against him with ease. You squealed and laughed at the sudden action “James!” you reprimanded “We didn’t even take your boots off, you’re gonna fall and drop me in the process,” he looked down and groaned when he realised it was true. Regardless he tried to jump his way before the two of you ended up back on the couch. You were laughing merrily as he huffed.

“Come on hot fireman,” you told him with a smile “Take off those pretty boots of yours…” you smiled as you sneaked out of his grasp “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

He pretty much groaned as he saw you leave, staring at your ass as you disappeared through the door.

A/N: this one came out so much sweeter than I expected it to, but I kind of love it. It really captures that James Potter humour, doesn't it? Maraudween and The Five Senses are the anthology series where I explore writing smut, all as a way to hone my skills for the moment I write it in my Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leave it in the comments below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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hwaslayer · 16 days

Text

love you in slow motion (psh) | two.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 7.3k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption and intoxication, some drunk crying lol, yacking, lil inkling of jealousy, overthinking and burying feelings, more seonghwa x oc dynamic

—a/n: hi hi! hope you guys enjoy this update! the next two updates will be quite lengthy lol stay tuned! if you need a lil something fun, i posted after hours last weekend!

"You know, Y/N. One day, you should sit down and eat with me. I'll pay for everything. It'll be a nice little date." The old man who is a regular at the restaurant smiles up at you while you switch his empty cup with a newly refilled cup of beer.

"Sure, but you know, my boss is also my cousin. I could always ask her for free food if I wanted it. Wouldn't a date be nicer somewhere else?" You laugh and nod, giving him a wink before walking off. "Mr. Ong asked me out on another date."

"Ou, to our restaurant? How sweet of him. Maybe one day you should actually sit down and eat with him."

"I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, Soyeon."

"He probably just needs company, you weirdo." She laughs. "Aye, might be nice, though. You never know until you try." You roll your eyes. "Unless.."

"Unless, what?"

"Someone else has your heart." Soyeon nudges you behind the counter as you two work on packing some to-go orders.

"Who is someone else?"

"You know, only your bestfriend of 16 years who does everything and anything for you." Soyeon giggles. But, before she can even indulge in her own little fantasy she's trying to project on you, Seonghwa walks through the front door— black, wavy hair messily framing his head. "Speak of the devil." You glare at her and roll her eyes while she continues to giggle loudly next to you.

"I can't fucking believe you."

"What?!" You look up at Seonghwa and give him a nod. "Hwa! Our favorite person ever."

"Hey." He smiles at Soyeon, giving Junseo a wave as he helps Yoongi in the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pick you up for Sannie's thing." He looks at you.

"Aw, Hwa. I told you I was okay taking bus."

"I was already in the area." He sits at the bar, watching as you continue to pack the remaining orders.

"Want anything?" Soyeon asks, making Hwa shake his head in response.

"I'm good, thanks."

"You should get going so you can meet up with everyone on time." Soyeon nudges you.

"Let me give Mr. Ong his check and direct him your way before I go." You grab a new batch of dried squid with the check, pacing over to Mr. Ong with a huge smile on your face. "My dear, I have some bad news. I'm off for the night. Here's a refill of your dried squid and the check. Just pay with Soyeon at the front, okay?" He frowns and playfully protests.

"You can't go that early! What am I supposed to do when my favorite is gone?!"

"Oh, I know. It's a tragedy. I'm so sorry, Mr. Ong. I'll see you next time!" You give him a sweet smile before walking to the back and hanging up your apron. "Soyeon will take great care of you!"

"I sure will, Mr. Ong. What else do you need?" He continues to playfully protest and partake in cute banter with Soyeon, even as you grab your things and walk out the door with Seonghwa.

"Really got the hots for you. Gonna let him take you out on a date?" Seonghwa adds as he leads the way to his parked car up the street.

"Well, just so you know, he actually did ask me on a date today. For the umpteenth time. He offered to pay for my dinner at the restaurant." You giggle as you step into the passenger's seat of Hwa's car. You always commend Hwa for being so clean and tidy, his car always in pristine condition like a new car would be. You especially love the air freshener that sits on his rear view mirror, Seonghwa always making sure to hang a new one to keep the fragrance alive.

"How sweet of him." He chuckles. "How was work otherwise?"

"Good. Busy." You let out a breath.

"Not too tired to go?"

"Never! I need to see Sannie, are you kidding?"

"I'm just giving you some options." He says, pulling away from the curb to begin the trek over to the bar.

"Thanks, Hwa. I'm perfectly fine and excited." You clap your hands in excitement.

"I think they're all already there."

"They're just waiting for us?"

"Mhm."

"Can't wait. I can't believe he went MIA when he was in Barcelona."

"I mean, we heard from him every now and then, but yeah." Seonghwa licks his lips, eyes focused on the road in front of him. "Guess he really wanted to focus on his program. Plus, I'm sure he was just basking in the new environment. Being in a new country and taking it all in."

"Good for him. I strive to be that way."

"Long way to go." You playfully smack him on the arm, making him give off a small yelp.

"I'm glad he did that, though. You don't normally find yourself in a situation like that all the time." Seonghwa nods.

"Yeah. I agree." You rest your head back against the headrest, giving yourself a moment to rest before the chaos begins. Before you could even get a few seconds of peace, Seonghwa is turning at a corner, instantly pulling into a free spot on the street.

"Mind if we walk a bit? I don't think we'll find anything closer to the bar."

"Sure. If I get wasted, it's on you to carry me." You unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of the car while Seonghwa follows suit.

"Hell no."

"So what, are you just gonna leave me?"

"Yeah." He says nonchalantly, walking ahead of you.

"You're so mean to me." You pout, making Seonghwa look down at you once you finally catch up to his side.

"Am I? Even though I lose sleep to save you from your shitty ex-boyfriend?"

"Hey, I was just kidding." He laughs. "It's not funny. Are you sick of me?"

"Y/N, please."

"Seonghwa, are you sick of me? Cause if you are, then I am too!" You tug on his arm and he shakes his head.

"We wouldn't be in each other's lives for this long if I was." He scoffs. "Besides, what the hell have I done to make you sick of me?"

"I thought so. Don't get me started." You playfully attempt to smack him on the arm. At this point, the two of you have finally reached the entrance to the bar, Wooyoung being the first to spot you walking over.

"Baby girl and her grumpy bodyguard are here!" He yells, waving you two over. You call out Wooyoung and Hongjoong's name while waving happily, but the individual next to them causes you to pause and almost short-circuit.

Because what do you mean that's Choi San?

You gasp when you finally process that it's San standing next to Wooyoung, his cheeks a rose-tinted color as he fiddles with his hands. He's nervous seeing you for the first time in years, hoping you'd still be the same around him like before.

"Sannie!" You scream, running into San's arms and allowing him to swing you around. When he puts you down, he gets a good look at your face and smiles, sending those butterflies loose in your stomach.

He definitely changed over the years.

It's been about three years since you all graduated, and since you last saw San. Once graduation was over, he felt the need to travel and explore, eventually stumbling into an Art and Architecture program in Barcelona. That's where he spent a majority of his years abroad before coming back home.

To you, your friends, his family.

This.

The familiar.

But the last time you saw San, he was a super sweet, awkward guy who experimented with hair colors and lacked consistency with the gym [even though he said he wanted to be better about a million times]. In reality though, he didn't think too much about his physical appearance and wasn't big on dressing up, was glued to his games and his shiba pillow pet named Shiber— even after graduation.

Now, he stands in front of you— a nice fitting black tee tucked into some dress pants and boots, brow slits, black hair slicked back with strands falling to his face, buff as shit in all the right places. You still smell his cologne lingering on you, on your hair, even as your eyes continue to glaze over his body.

"Wow, you look.. different." You accidentally let out while letting your eyes linger. He chuckles, showing off his deep dimples.

"What is that supposed to mean? I haven't seen you in about three years and that's the first thing you say?" He teases, pulling you into another tight hug, your cheek pressed against his chest while Seonghwa furrows his brows. Because what the fuck is he watching right now? It's so easy to tell when you're feeling some type of way, even if you won't admit it.

"Sorry, I meant that in a good way." You look up at him and playfully tap his chest. "I'm happy you're back home. It's been too long."

"I am, too." Seonghwa clears his throat, breaking the weird, flirty silence between the two of you.

"Can we go inside?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at anyone for some sort of agreement.

"Okaaaaay!" Wooyoung says, clapping his hands awkwardly. "You didn't have to make it so fucking weird, Mr. Grumpygills." He and Hongjoong snort while they begin to walk into the bar, Hwa's hand coming up to smack Wooyoung on the back of his neck. "Ouch, what the fuck! Joongie laughed too." He whines.

"Shut up."

"I can't wait to hear your stories about Barcelona!" You link your arm with San's as you two trail behind and begin to talk about how he's been lately. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Seonghwa slide in first before you and San follow suit into the booth.

"Somebody order before he loses his shit watching this." Hongjoong mumbles, eyeing the happy hour menu.

"Tequila? Soju?" Wooyoung yells, already calling the server over. "Both? Fuck it. Seonghwa looks like he needs it anyway."

"I will personally toss your ass out of this bar myself." Seonghwa says under his breath, glaring at Wooyoung before returning his attention to the menu. After a few moments of peace and silence, Hongjoong takes initiative to order for the booth— making sure to include everyone's wants and wishes before thanking the server with a smile and a curt nod.

The soju bottles come out first, and you immediately crack them open to get the party started. You line up all of the shot glasses and start pouring [heavily], passing it onto the boys for them to join you.

"Goodness." Hongjoong says, carefully lifting his shot glass filled to the brim. "Y/N, I love you, but we have all night, you know?"

"Exactly, Joongie! More time to get in more shots!"

"Yeah, that's the spirit babygirl! Don't worry about the grandpas!" Wooyoung yells along, tapping his glass against yours. "Sannie's back!" San shyly laughs, saying a few words along the lines of 'thank you' and 'i missed you guys a lot.' Everyone taps their glasses once more before downing their shots, with you wasting no time to pour the next round.

But the next round becomes the third, the fifth, maybe seventh, tenth? You aren't really sure when it's mainly you, San and Wooyoung taking the shots and requesting bottle after bottle. At some point, the empty bottles are gathered in the middle of the table and Seonghwa is having to play tetris to make the food fit.

"I need to pee. I'll be back."

"Are you good to go by yourself?" Wooyoung questions. "I can stand outside in the hallway until you're done."

"I'm good, I promise!" You slip out of the booth once San has slipped out of the way at the end, taking a moment to get your balance together since the world seems to be spinning a lot more than usual right now.

"Wow, I think I'm drunk." Wooyoung laughs as he plops back down onto the seat.

"Saaaame." San burps a bit before picking at the calamari sitting in front of him. "Y/N's fun. I forgot how fun she is."

"She is." Wooyoung smiles. "That's babygirl."

"Babygirl? Is this a new nickname we're calling her?"

"It's a nickname I'm calling her and Hwa hates it." Wooyoung giggles when he eyes Seonghwa next to him.

"It's just weird."

"Not! You're just mad you can't come up with a cuter nickname for your bestfriend."

"I don't need to." Seonghwa continues to eat, brushing off Wooyoung's drunk teasing.

"Did you guys come from work today?" Hongjoong shifts the topic as he munches on some of the food, hearing the slight annoyance in Seonghwa's tone.

"Yeah. Picked up Y/N on the way over."

"When are Soyeon and Junseo leaving for Japan?"

"In a few days." Wooyoung gasps.

"Does that mean we'll get to see Chacha?!"

"That's right, I never met Charli." San says, cheeks flushed completely to red now that he's 100% drunk.

"She's cute." Seonghwa smiles a bit. "But yeah, Soyeon asked Y/N to take charge in watching Chacha since Yaya's knees have been bothering her." Hongjoong nods.

"She's really cute, dude. She turned three not too long ago." Wooyoung shows San a picture.

"She's so cute." San laughs at the pictures of Charli.

"I'm back!" You announce, the boys at the end slipping out of the booth to let you get back inside. "What're you guys looking at?"

"Chacha." You smile.

"Aw yeah, Charli! You haven't met her. She'd love you." You look at San.

"Can't wait. She's super cute."

"She's stuck to this one the most, though." You point at Seonghwa. "All she does is cry for Hwa." You pour yourself another shot.

"He's no fun, though." Wooyoung pokes fun and pouts at Seonghwa.

"It's cause mentally, you're the same age as Charli. Of course you relate the most."

"Aye." Wooyoung flips him off while laughing. "Fuck you."

"Am I wrong?" Seonghwa smirks.

"Is she just gonna stay with Yaya when she doesn't have preschool? She only goes three days, right?" Hongjoong asks.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure." You reach across to grab some food, getting in Seonghwa's way. "I know Yaya won't mind, but I might just bring her along to the restaurant. She can color or something. Our regulars don't mind keeping her company, too."

"Cute."

"But, she'll be sleeping with me and everything." You say with a slightly full mouth. You feel Seonghwa accidentally nudge you while grabbing a chicken wing, making your drunk ass glare back at him just as you roughly nudge him. He mumbles a quick 'stop' as he nudges you again, making you respond with an even more aggressive nudge that has him moving in his seat. The childish back and forth has Hongjoong confused, eyes peering over the edge of his phone while he watches the interaction mid-text. "You stop." You groan.

"Seriously?" Hongjoong asks, sometimes unsure how you two have dealt with each other for this long.

"He elbowed me first." You drunkly respond, that last shot of soju finally settling in.

"It was an accident. I was trying to grab food." Seonghwa gives you a look. It's gonna be a long night. "Eat more. Drunk ass." Seonghwa drops a wing onto your plate before continuing to pick at his food.

"No." You pout and he furrows his brows.

"Fine, suit yourself. You're gonna be mad you didn't." He watches as you reach over to grab the soju bottle and pour Wooyoung and San another shot.

"Don't be a killjoy, Hwa. Sannie is back, doesn't that mean anything to you?" You whine, your doe-eyes peering up at him as he eats. He doesn't respond, nor does he keep eye contact with you for long because he can't stand it when you look at him like that.

"I'm driving, remember?" He raises a brow.

"Right." You giggle. "I'll take another on your behalf then." You shrug and take one last shot of soju right after San and Wooyoung take their shots.

"She's gonna yack tonight." Hongjoong says while puckering his lips, keeping his eyes glued to his phone.

"Yeah, probably." Seonghwa nonchalantly munches on a mozzarella stick.

"Am! Not!" You direct your response to Hongjoong, but before you can go on and defend yourself even more, a loud scream erupts when the DJ starts to play one of your favorite songs.

"Who wants to dance?!" Wooyoung yells loudly as he stands at the booth, San already ready to make his way to the dance floor. "Babygirl sure does!" San grabs your hand and leads the way, with Wooyoung pushing Hongjoong out of the booth to follow along. "You two coming?" He asks just as Hongjoong and Seonghwa shake their head, leaving him to nod and find you and San on the floor.

"Looks like those two are gonna get extra close again now that he's back for good." Hongjoong takes a turn teasing Seonghwa, knowing the flirty interaction from earlier in the night is still irking the living daylight out of him.

"Mm, maybe." Seonghwa continues to chomp on his food while avoiding eye contact.

"Wow, they're dancing awfully close like that together." Hongjoong lies, watching as Seonghwa's eyes suddenly dart to the dance floor ahead. He tries not to make it obvious but my god, is he hoping that you and San aren't dancing up on each other and are leaving room for the Holy Spirit instead. "See, you're full of shit."

"Dude, fuck off. Why is everyone on my ass about this today?"

"Maybe cause you should do something about it."

"If she wants to date San, then she should go for it. Can't tell her who she can or can't date."

"You're right, by all means. But I'm telling you to be fucking real with yourself." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head before looking back out to the dance floor. He's a little irritated that he's had to hear this not once, but twice in one day— though, he knows his boys are only looking out for him and telling him the truth. For some reason, he just can't think about it right now. He refuses to, mainly out of fear. He doesn't want this to consume him, to change things without him even realizing.

He wants you, but he'll have you the way the universe will allow him to have you.

After you, Wooyoung and San are done dancing [a very long hour or so afterwards], the group decides to call it a night shortly after. You're still drunk as hell, and Seonghwa doesn't even know how he's gonna get you home without creating chaos at this time of night. He just hopes he can at least get you to bed in one piece.

At least you're not running off to Mingi.

"I had so much fun!" You giggle. "Choi San." You tap his chest before hugging him. "I'm so glad you're back."

"I am, too."

"We have to hang out more now that you're back. T-to make up for lost—" You hiccup. "—time."

"That sounds good with me." You smile at him before hugging Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"I mean it!"

"I know, I do too!" He laughs.

"Hwa get home safely, please." Joong says before grabbing at Wooyoung's shirt just as he's about to run to the water fountain nearby. "No, you're not going to the fountain."

"I just wanna make a wish and toss a coin in there! I'm not gonna dive in!" Wooyoung whines while San laughs loudly. "Why are you being like that!" He continues on.

"You too!" Seonghwa calls out, picking up his pace when he realizes you've already started walking off. "Shit." He mumbles to himself.

"Wooooooo!" You skip happily as you and Seonghwa walk down the street to his car. You stumble on your feet a bit that he has to grab your wrist and pull you back towards him before you end up on the busy street where cars are constantly driving up and down.

"Y/N, be careful." He says, almost whining that you can't just stay still next to him.

"Hwa, I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Y-yes!" You giggle and pose as if he's taking a picture, only to lose your balance and stumble on your feet again. You laugh though, and it makes Seonghwa chuckle a bit when he grabs your arm and holds you close.

"Okay, yeah. You're right! Perfectly fine." He lies just so you're satisfied.

"Aw, see. I told you so." You scrunch your nose at him and continue to let him guide you to the car. "Hwa." You tug on his arm.

"Mhm?"

"Sannie is so cute." You pout. "He is so, so cute. I m-mean." You hiccup. "He's always been cute but he's so attractive now. Like prince charming." You say ever so smitten, and it makes Seonghwa wanna silently scream and punch the air right now. "Isn't he?!"

"Sure."

"Do you think he'd like me? We're just friends and he probably just—" You hiccup again. "Just sees me as a friend."

"I think he would."

"You're not just saying that because you're my bestfriend, right? You can tell me the truth. You hate Mingi and you tell me all the time."

"I always tell you the truth." He chuckles. "And I do hate Mingi. That has never changed. He's an asshole and doesn't treat you right."

"Would San treat me right? Would you like him? We've all been friends so you know him." Seonghwa sighs.

"He would. He's a really good guy."

"I knooooow." You pout. "But he wouldn't like me."

"He would."

"Would he actually?"

"Why not? You're beautiful inside and out, smart, funny. Fun to be around. You're a headache at times, but everything about you is worth it." He almost mumbles the last part hoping you wouldn't catch it. You do, but it doesn't bother Seonghwa as much knowing you won't remember shit tomorrow.

"Aw, pichu." You stop and look at him while he unlocks his car and swings the passenger door open for you. "You really mean that?" Your bottom lip looks like it's trembling and Seonghwa can't help but furrow his brows in confusion at you.

"Are you gonna cry?"

"Yeah." Your bottom lip pokes out even more and you actually do start crying.

"That wasn't meant to make you cry, Y/N. I'm just answering your question." He laughs as he wipes your tears, but you continue to cry, even as you drunkly plop onto the passenger's seat.

"It was so sweet, you're always so good to me. Sometimes." You sniff. "Well all the time. I feel like I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

"It's not, or else I wouldn't be here, right?" He looks at you just as he finishes buckling your seatbelt.

"Did you know?" You giggle with glazed, hooded eyes. "I wanted to marry you at some point. I couldn't see anyone else in my life the same way that I saw you and thought I'd end up marrying you." You snort and laugh loudly. "Kinda crazy isn't it? We would never date though so how could that even happen?" Seonghwa can't help but continue to look at you, even though at this point you've shut your eyes and started to lean back against the seat.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "I wouldn't say never."

"You're my bestfriend. We can't break up, remember? Ever. If we date, then ultimately we could get tired of each other and break up. A-and hate each other. It'll kill me." You mumble. "Even though I love you, I really, really love you, we promised not to break up or go there."

"Yeah." Seonghwa's heart shatters, the pieces falling to the pits of his stomach.

"Listen, even though I have this crush on Sannie, or I think I do, I don't know—" You giggle again as you tap his arm. "I want you to know that I'll always love you more than anyone or anything. Okay? You're always first!" Your eyes pop open to look at him. "My heart belongs to you and only you, Park Seonghwa!" You laugh and point at him cutely, shutting your eyes again to finally try and sleep this off.

"I love you, too." Seonghwa mutters as he drives off, but you're already sound asleep in the seat— head leaning near the window. He's not sure what to feel right now, and he'll probably never bring this up for your sake. He'll never bring it up though the thought will consume him.

But, did you really mean it? All of it?

He's hoping yes, but what is that gonna do for him? You're drunk. You won't remember this. He won't bring it up. Does this mean it's actually time for him to be honest before it's too late? Before San can sweep you off your feet for good and Seonghwa never gets the chance to tell you how much he truly loves you and adores you?

Before he just has to sit back and bury his feelings for good? All because he decided he couldn't tell you?

He'd hate to say you were the one that got away, especially when a whole new door just opened in front of his eyes. It's just a matter of him taking those steps.

Fuck.

Why do things have to be so complicated?

When he gets to your house, Yaya is sound asleep and all the lights are off. Seonghwa makes sure to open the side door and the door to your suite before coming back to his car to quietly unbuckle your seatbelt and carry you to your bed. You whimper and make a small noise when he lifts you, and he gently shushes you back to sleep— reassuring you that he was putting you to bed and that he'd be around if you needed him.

He lays you down, taking off your shoes and setting them aside before grabbing some clean clothes for you to change into later. He knows you'll probably get up in the middle of the night, especially with how drunk you were. He sets a glass of water near your bed side and places the trash can next to you just in case, before shutting all the curtains and changing into comfier clothes himself [the perks of you wearing his clothes home]. He lays down on your couch and throws the extra blanket over his body, taking a moment to scroll through his phone and text the boys before attempting to get some sleep.

You do end up yacking that night, and it's not as slick as you had liked.

You abruptly woke up, suddenly feeling warm and like you needed some sort of release, feet quickly padding to the bathroom that you didn't notice Seonghwa asleep on your couch. You shut the door to the bathroom and instantly vomit into the bowl— all the alcohol and things you've eaten coming right back up. Seonghwa is already awake, though. He heard you shuffling over to the bathroom and knows exactly what's happening behind the door. He lets out a breath while walking to the bathroom, finding you head first into the toilet. He gently gathers your hair and pulls it back, rubbing your back as you let out another round into the bowl before flushing it away.

"Fuck." You say. "Really do regret not eating more." You spit into the bowl before flushing it once more and stand to wash up.

"Figured." Seonghwa smirks with a little chuckle. "You alright?" You nod as you begin to brush your teeth and get loads of mouthwash ready.

"I think I'll be okay now. I feel a bit better even though I'm kinda dizzy still." You look at him through your bathroom mirror. "Were you here the entire time?" Seonghwa yawns and nods as he leans against the door frame.

"Took your little drunk ass home and stayed here just in case."

"How many hours ago did we get home?"

"Probably like 2 or 3."

"How drunk was I?"

"Drunk enough."

"I didn't say stupid shit, did I?" You spit out the mouth wash and start to make your way outside to change into comfier clothes, still feeling disoriented.

"No, but you did manage to be all up on San." You gasp and cover your mouth, Seonghwa laughing as he plops back down onto your couch.

"The fuck, Seonghwa! Don't lie!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"I'm kidding. Kinda. You were dancing with him and Wooyoung, and you wouldn't stop talking about how cute he was." You start changing in the bathroom with the door open, listening to him go on about that.

"Did he hear?"

"No, you were still being a flirt though."

"Fucking christ." You mumble, hand to your forehead at the dull headache now present post-yack session. "No, I'm not thinking about this now." You lay back down and toss the sheets over your body. "Are you sure you're okay to sleep there?"

"Mhm. Not like I haven't before."

"We've also shared a bed without issues." Seonghwa pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. Can he really share a bed with you the same way he used to? Especially after you just blurted out that your heart belonged to him? Whether it was the truth, or for shits and giggles— he can't just share a bed with you and keep his distance.

You fucking blurted out the L word.

You said you loved him; really, really loved him.

"It's okay. You should rest comfortably. You need it more than I do." You hum as you sink into your sheets and let the warmth envelope you. Seonghwa lets out a quiet sigh before returning his attention to his phone, waiting for the drowsiness to hit him again. His groupchat with the boys still seems to be active, so he scrolls through to catch up on the texts:

[hongjoong]: just got home after dropping these punks off

[hongjoong]: can't believe woo and san convinced me to go to another bar

[hongjoong]: hwa did you and y/n make it home okay?

[wooyoung]: did y/n yack her brains out? cause babygirl was drunk drunk

[san]: you guys, speaking of her

[san]: y/n is so fucking cute, i missed her a lot

[san]: she's really not seeing anyone right? because she's so pretty

[san]: maybe she'll finally give me a chance lol

[hongjoong]: you're drunk. sleep it off? lol

[san]: no i really mean it ☹️ she rarely paid attention to me before..

[hongjoong]: what are you talking about, she was always with us lol you guys always hung out??

[hongjoong]: please go to sleep

[wooyoung]: u better ask bodyguard seonghwa first, he might drop kick that ass

[san]: shit hwa i'm sorry, am i overstepping here??

Seonghwa is annoyed and he's irritated, but he won't say it. And he won't take it out on San because it's not his fault. It's not anyone's fault but Seonghwa's own. He chooses to keep this to himself and not do anything about it, so can he really mope around and sulk? You weren't his to claim. It was free game, and if it's gonna be anyone, he would want it to be San. Seonghwa would ultimately support you and San if it ever went down that route. That way, you wouldn't keep hurting yourself over Song Mingi, too.

Despite adoring you and loving you to bits, all he wants is for you to be genuinely happy. That's the most important thing here.

[seonghwa]: don't listen to wooyoung's dumbass, you don't needa tell me or ask me anything. y/n is her own person

[seonghwa]: and yeah joong we're fine

[seonghwa]: she did throw up but shes asleep now

[seonghwa]: i'm gonna take my exit, tired as hell

He sets his phone aside, turning inwards on the couch to try and catch some shut-eye. Though, he feels like at this point, he's probably not gonna have the best rest. He manages to fall asleep for the next couple of hours, tossing and turning every now and then until he finally decides to just call it quits and start his day. He washes up and tries to make himself look a little more presentable after the long night of tossing and turning. He folds the blankets and sets them aside, happy to see that you're still sound asleep deep under your covers. He grabs his keys and phone, deciding to make a run for some pho to bring back and share with you.

"Seonghwa." Yaya says as she waters her flowers in the garden. "You're here." She smiles.

"Mhm." He gestures towards your suite. "Brought her home after we all went out last night for San."

"Oh, that handsome boy. I'm so happy to hear he's back home." She stands and places her hand on her hip. "Was she okay?"

"Yeah, just drank quite a bit. She's okay though. Promise." Seonghwa smiles sweetly. "I'm gonna grab us some food before she wakes up."

"You're the sweetest boy I know." She cups his cheek.

"Do you need anything while I'm out, Yaya?" He asks as he's about to head out of the backyard's side door.

"No, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are coming over soon. You're gonna be here, right? Charli would be so sad if she missed you."

"Yeah, I'll be here." He chuckles. "Be back."

With that, Seonghwa heads off to the small Vietnamese restaurant that you, your family and his family have come to love. It's a bit of a drive from your place, but he doesn't mind. The restaurant is owned by a lovely middle-aged couple who has seen you and Seonghwa grow since your high school years. When Seonghwa calls, they know his voice— immediately starting on his order before he could say anything and asking for him to swing by as soon as possible so they can see him.

So, that's what he does.

He sees them as soon as possible, walking into the store with a huge smile on his face while Mr. and Mrs. Dao happily wave him over with a huge bag of food nearby on the counter. He stands near the counter to engage in small talk for a bit, giving them cash with extra tip for all the good food they've packed for him [and you].

"Where is our girl?" Mrs. Dao asks, tying the knot securely on the bag.

"Asleep and hungover." She laughs, handing the bag over. "Gotta make sure she gets some food in her system."

"That's sweet of you." She smiles at him.

"How's your family? How's Y/N and hers?" Mr. Dao asks him, wiping his hand on his apron.

"They're all good. I'll tell them you guys said hello." They nod.

"I packed some spring rolls and extra peanut sauce in there. I know those are her favorite." Mrs. Dao whispers.

"Thank you." Seonghwa winks before waving one last time and walking out of the door.

As promised, when he arrives, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are over. Seonghwa steps out of his car with the bag of food, a screaming Charli running towards him from down the hallway. She barrels through her own mom and dad to get to him quickly, with Seonghwa having to set the bag on the island counter down to appropriately welcome her into his arms and swing her around.

"Uncle Hwa! Uncle Hwa!" She screams repeatedly.

"Charli, please. You don't have to scream." Soyeon chuckles a bit.

"Chacha." Seonghwa taps the tip of her nose before she giggles and snuggles her head into the crook of his neck. "I missed you. Where have you been?" He asks teasingly.

"Preschool! With friends!"

"Aw, you've been making friends? That's good."

"Hwa, don't let that child lie to you." Soyeon adds. "She's so mean and sassy. There was this kid who wanted to sit next to her and she kicked her foot out so he wouldn't." Junseo laughs.

"Wonder who she gets that attitude from?" Junseo chimes in.

"Can't forget that one time we took her to the park and another kid wanted to play with her, but Chacha held up a stick so they wouldn't get close to her." Seonghwa laughs at Junseo's story before he rubs at Charli's back.

"Aw pea, you can't do that."

"I don't!"

"Mhm. Now she wants to act all sweet and innocent cause you're here." Soyeon crosses her arm and nods at the bag. "Long night for Y/N, I'm assuming."

"You could say that." He continues to hold Charli against his hip while grabbing at the bag. "Hey, let's go wake up Auntie Y/N?" She happily nods as Seonghwa walks off to the suite. As expected, you're still deep under your covers, messy hair the only thing peeking out from under. "Go wake her up, Chacha." He says lowly, putting her down so that she can run to the bed and wake you [rather aggressively].

"Titi Y/N! Titi Y/N! Wakey wakey!" Seonghwa chuckles to himself as he sets the food out on your coffee table, grabbing two bowls for you both.

"Oh my god, Chacha. Please." You groggily say as she bounces on your bed. "How are you even in here right now?"

"Uncle Hwa! He has food so you need to eat now." You would've thought she was grown with that attitude, you think. You chuckle as you rub at your eyes and sit up, giving your niece a proper bear hug and cuddle.

"Thank you, pea." You give her a kiss on the side of the head before you get up to wash up and get yourself ready for the day. Once you've freshen up, you do feel a bit better, though your tummy still feels unsettled so Seonghwa's timing is perfect.

Like always.

You plop next to him on the floor, while Chacha welcomes herself on his criss-crossed lap. He pushes the container of spring rolls and the huge bowl of pho towards you since he's already had his first helping, eyes glued on your TV even though it's just the Secret Life of Pets [probably by Chacha's choosing].

"Thank you, Hwa." His big eyes dart to you before he gives you a small smile and slurps his noodles.

"Course." He feeds some to Chacha when she politely asks for a bite. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, a bit. This will help majorly." You slurp the soup.

"Chacha! Let's go! I told you we were only stopping by for a bit!" Soyeon calls from outside.

"No, mama! I wanna stay with Auntie Y/N and Uncle Hwa." She whines loudly, on the verge of an actual breakdown as she stands in between you two.

"Hey Chacha, remember? We're gonna spend some time together soon while mama and papa are away." You pull her close to you and brush the hair out of her face. "Just me and you. Uncle Hwa too." She nods, a tear falling from her eye as she pouts. Seonghwa has to look away because he's finding that the more he's fixated on this scene, the more he imagines a future like this with you.

And he can't do that to himself.

"Okay." She mumbles with the pout still on her face. You continue to brush her hair back and wipe the straggling tears before standing.

"Say bye to Uncle Hwa." You dust down your clothes as Charli throws her hands around his neck for a tight hug.

"Bye cutiepie." She giggles before taking your hand and meeting her mom and dad outside in the backyard.

"Swear, she's so stuck on Seonghwa." You laugh and hug Junseo.

"Can't blame her."

"Well, good to know you're alive. And not at Mingi's." You roll your eyes.

"Always ruining the moment. Leave." Soyeon sticks her tongue out and waves.

"I'll call you later to talk more about the trip. Gotta prepare!" She says in an excited tone, one where you can't help but laugh a bit and shake your head.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm charging you double this time." You call out before giving one last wave and heading back into your suite. Seonghwa is still seated on the ground, but he's drinking water and has his bowl pushed aside. "You're not gonna eat more?"

"No, go for it. It's mainly yours. Mrs. Dao gave you spring rolls and extra peanut sauce on the house."

"Aw, I love her. She's so sweet." You take a bite into one. "What're you gonna do today?" He shrugs.

"Probably hang out at Joong's or San's." He looks at you. "Why?"

"Can I come?"

"No?"

"Why not?" You whine playfully, knowing you don't actually wanna join their weird little boy party.

"Because all you're gonna do is flirt with San and we have important business to take care of." You snort and laugh loudly.

"No I'm not! And important business? Like fucking yelling at each other during a game of FIFA?"

"No."

"Right." You roll your eyes. "I'm kidding, I don't wanna join in your sad little no girls allowed party."

"Girls are allowed." He smirks. "Just not you."

"You really are such a dick to me sometimes." He laughs, blocking the pillow from hitting his face.

"What, and you aren't a brat to me?"

"I beg to differ."

"If only you knew." He snorts, pinching your cheek. "I'm just joking, you know I am. You're always welcome to come."

"No, I really don't wanna go. Was just teasing." You finish up your food.

"What're you gonna do then?"

"Work at the restaurant and serve some middle-aged men their beer and food while they ogle at me." You joke and he winces.

"Mmkay well, have fun with that." Seonghwa stands and cleans up his trash before wiping your table down thoroughly. "Make sure to invite me to the wedding or else I'll be pissed."

"You're full of shit, Hwa." He groans when he sees a drop of peanut sauce land onto the surface that he's just cleaned. "Oops."

"I swear to God." He sighs, cleaning it again before shaking his head.

"You love me."

"I beg to differ." He mocks you just as he washes his hands and stretches. "Alright, well I'm out. Get some more rest before you head to the restaurant, you look kinda torn up." He ruffles your hair, causing you to smack his hand away and flip him off.

"Fuck you, get out." He chuckles as he heads out the door and leaves you to your peace.

When Seonghwa gets to his place, he manages to tidy up a bit, shower and throw on some fresh clothes before calling Hongjoong to see what the consensus was for the meeting place. Hongjoong ends up telling him that they're all on their way to San's, giving Seonghwa the green light to head over as well.

On his way over, he tries to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. He tries his hardest not to overthink, not to focus too much on all the stuff that's happened.

The stuff you said.

He knows it's probably just you being drunk and babbling all this mess, especially now that you're finding interest in San. But as with everyone says, the drunk mind speaks sober thoughts.

Was there some kind of truth to it?

Did you really see him that way at some point?

Is there a part of you that still feels that way?

"What's wrong with you?" Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung in slight disgust as he steps aside and lets him in.

"Nothing. Just didn't wanna see you first."

"You're an asshole." Wooyoung laughs. "How does Y/N deal with you? She's so sweet and fun, everything you're not—" Hwa smacks him upside the head. "Ow, see!" Wooyoung continues to complain.

"Speaking of her, how's Y/N?" San eagerly asks as he sits next to Hongjoong on the couch, continuing his journey on Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth.

"All of a sudden." Hongjoong snorts.

"She's good. Recovering from her night, I guess. She's going to work soon."

"Mm. Glad she survived."

"What have you guys been up to?" Seonghwa plops onto the beanbag and scrolls through his phone, finally letting out a breath of relief after his night. At least he could relax and chill out here.

"Just hanging out. Trying to figure out what to eat." Hongjoong looks at him. "You eat already?"

"Yeah, I went to grab some pho for Y/N."

"Okay, thanks for the invite."

"You can take care of yourself." Seonghwa snaps back at Wooyoung, making him mock Hwa in return.

"Aye, are you guys down to head to the mall in a bit? We can just grab food there." San asks, eyes still focused on the TV.

"Why do you need to go to the mall?"

"I just wanna buy some new clothes."

"For what?" Hongjoong chuckles.

"Listen, I haven't been around for awhile, okay? I started cleaning out a few things from my closet for donations. Plus, I haven't treated myself in a long time cause I've been so focused on the program and what not."

"Mm okay, so what's the real reason?" Wooyoung asks, chomping onto a banana. Seonghwa glances at San from his seat, taking note of how his cheeks and ears turn red and how he's suddenly getting shy. Nervous, even.

And he's not sure how to feel. He has a feeling he might know exactly where this is going, and he's hoping he's wrong. Maybe overthinking. Jumping to conclusions.

"I definitely wanna take Y/N to dinner and catch up with her. See where this goes.." San trails off, causing Seonghwa to pause mid-text— trying his very hardest not to make it too entirely obvious that his heart has dropped from the statement, equally sad and annoyed by the entire situation [for his own selfish reasons].

Fuck.

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa series #park seonghwa series #park seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa #ateez #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez series #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa angst #park seonghwa fluff #hwaslayer: love you in slow motion

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sweetlyskz · 7 months

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Emerald Gem||Chapter 2

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language

Word count: 2.6k

Unedited

The next morning you wake like any other morning. When the roosters crow, you absentmindedly make your way downstairs, partially unaware of the mess you had made yesterday. The first floor was empty, not a single hybrid in sight. The house was quiet- a little too quiet. You began to make breakfast, cooking a meal for a family instead of just one. After searching the fridge, you grab about 10 eggs instead of just one and use all of your fresh bacon from the butcher shop in town. You also scrummaged through your cabinets for some flour. Maybe they'll like pancakes?

The first of the pack to wake up was the bunny hybrid. He told you his name was Jungkook. Sleepy-eyed, he tiptoes his way to the kitchen, following the aroma of bacon and eggs.

"Mm, smells good", he mumbled, sneaking a piece of bacon off of one of the plates. You smacked his hand lightly.

"Not so fast", you warned him. "Go wake the others and tell them to come to the dining table. I wanna talk about something while we eat breakfast."

He gulped. The last time someone just wanted to talk, they were put on the streets and being hunted like rabid animals. He was praying to whoever above that this was not the case.

"It's nothing bad", you promised him, as if you could sense his nervousness. "I meant what I said the other day. You all can stay as long as you please. I just want to go over some ground rules and make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible."

He nodded, making his way back to the room to wake up his pack mates. While he gathered up the crew, you set the table, laying out two plates of bacon, two stacks of pancakes, a plate of eggs, and a glass bottle of homemade maple syrup. You placed a fork and knife at each chair and a pile of napkins on the center of the table, close enough for everyone to reach.

One by one, everyone made their way to their seats. First was Jungkook who rushed to the table after informing the other breakfast was served. Next was timid Fox, Hoseok. He took the seat closest to you. Trailing after him was a panther hybrid, Yoongi. You haven't had the chance to talk to him yet, but it seemed like he wished to keep it that way. He took the seat furthest away from you. The pack leader, Namjoon, came out last with two other wolves and a sugar glider.

"Thank you for the hospitality", said Namjoon. He sat directly across from you, speaking with his head hanging low. Now that you think about it, none of them made eye contact when speaking to you, head always in their lap fiddling with thier fingers.

"No need to thank me", You replied, scraping some scrambled eggs onto their plates. The bunny looked at them with disgust, picking up his fork and picking through it, not ever putting the fork to his lips.

"Is it not up to par?" You asked him. Maybe the eggs went bad. Sometimes you don't get to the eggs fast enough. He shook his head.

"No! I bet there great... I just don't really like eggs", He whispered, as if he said something he shouldn't. However, The pack omega, Jin, was quick to scold him.

"Don't be a brat", he reprimanded. "Eat the food that miss y/n took her time to cook for us. She's been gracious enough to let us stay here. Don't give her a reason to kick us out!"

You interrupted his scolding. "It's okay! there's plenty more for you to eat here, as long as you still get your protein."

They looked at you in confusion, and you returned the same look. If you were being honest, it scared you, listening to Jin talk to him that way. Did they actually believe that you would put them out over something so trivial? Everyone went silent, slow to touch their plates.

"Just to be clear, I would never kick you guys out. This is your home now, if you so choose to stay. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. Tell me if you do or don't like something. I want to get to know you guys more, now that we're roommates and everything."

"T-thank you miss y/n", Jin uttered. "We've never been treated like..."

Like people, he wanted to say.

"And another thing", you continued with your speech. "You don't have to call me that. I would actually prefer you just call me by my name. Just y/n will do just fine." You showed your bright smile to let them know you weren't upset.

"okay... y/n" he hesitated. You could see a slight smile sneak up on his face, but he quickly pushed it away. You took it as some progress. Instead of putting everything on their plate, you let them choose what they wanted. It made it easier to see what you should cook next time, knowing what foods they craved the most.

"Also, I have to go in town and get you guys some new clothes, but in the meantime you guys can wear some of my brother's old clothes. I probably won't get any until next week. I don't like going in town." It's true, you dreaded going into town. That's why you preferred the rural setting. Your brother however, wanted to experience more, leaving you and your parents to take care of the farm. And when your parents took their final breath, you inherited it all, and he wanted nothing to do the family farm or you.

The guys looked like they had questions, but they didn't dare ask them. Instead, they thank you for the meal and go wash up, putting on the clothes you gave them, giving you enough time to clean up and wash the dishes.

"I can help with that, if you want", you heard a voice behind you whisper. You turned around to see who was speaking, only to see no one there.

"Uh, sure?" You spoke into the air, hoping whoever asked could hear who. Then a head peaked around the corner with perked ears, followed by the rest of his body.

"H-hello", the wolf whispered. "I'm Taehyung. Jimin wanted to come too but he's a little more shy." He spoke whilst looking at the ground, face as red as a cherry tomato. "I'm good at washing dishes!"

"Really? I would love that", you smiled, lightly ruffling his hair with your slightly wet hands. He hid his face in his hands, making you smile even harder. If he is this shy, you can't imagine how Jimin must be.

After a while he gained enough courage to grab the sponge from your grasp, washing each plate carefully. While he washed the dishes you dried them and put them away, creating a system for the both of you.

"So, where are you guys from?" You tried to make small talk, hopefully lightening the mood. Sadly it did the exact opposite. his head tilted at your question, like he was trying to remember.

"You mean where we were born?" He asked you.

"Yeah, like your birthplace. For example, I was born right in this very house. My mother had a home birth." You don't think he understood what that was, but you decided to just leave it alone for now.

"Well, I was born in a lab, I think. The lab is all I remember. I never met my parents. Jin was made in a test tube, so he doesn't have any parents. I think the only one who grew up with parents is Hoseok."

"Oh, that's unfortunate", is all you could bring yourself to say. You can't imagine it, your whole life being used as some project, some new invention, being given away as pets or fighters. Life must've not been too kind to this pack of hybrids.

Taehyung shrugged. "It's nothing we're not used to. That's why this is so important to me. I really don't want to mess this up again."

"I would never. There's nothing you guys can do that would make me do such a thing."

"That's what the last one said", he sighed. "That's why Joon is so cautious. The last time he let someone in, he was being hauled to a research facility."

"I'm so sorry", you sympathized. "But I promise you will never have to deal with that as long as you guys are here. Let me prove it to you." After hearing all that these guys have gone through, you made it your personal agenda to make them feel as loved and wanted as possible, starting with the oldest.

***

In order to understand your new roommate's better, you began to do some research on their breeds in your study. Panther hybrids, like Yoongi, sleep for almost have of the day and prefer dark spaces. A bunny hybrids favorite snack is carrots, of course. Luckily you have plenty of them in your garden. Honeydew is a very important part of a sugar glider hybrids diet. Wolves and foxes need a large grassy area to call their own and shift into their animal form more often.

"Y/n?" A voice called on the other side of the door, breaking you away from your research.

"You can come in, Tae", you knew that smooth deep voice by memory now. "I was just finishing up but you can sit down, if you want."

The wolf opened the door, observing the decor in your office. He was mesmerized by all of the books you kept on the shelves, probably covered in a white, dusty film. It's been a while since you dusted. You pointed to the comfy navy blue couch in the corner of the room, suggesting he take a seat.

"Are you busy? I don't want to interrupt..." he slowly sat down on the couch, finding the comfiest spot.

"Not at all! I actually need your help with something, if you're up for it."

He shook his head, a little too eager. "Anything."

"I want to know what Jimin and Yoongi like. Out of all of you, they're the ones I interact with the least, and I really want everyone to feel welcomed here", you stated. "I want to respect their space, but also let them know I want them here."

Taehyung thought about it for a second, looking up as if there was a thought bubble above his head. "Well, Yoongi is a domesticated panther, so he likes cat trees and anything he can scratch or lay on... But Jimin is a little more difficult."

You made a mental note to add that to your shopping list.

"Wait!" He blurted, as if the thought bubble above his head turned into a light bulb. "There is one thing that Jimin loves, but you might not be ready for it."

Your mind automatically went to another place, somewhere Tae was not trying to go. "Nothing like that!" The look on your faced must've been too obvious. Embarrassed, you put your head in your hands to cover the red that crept up your cheeks.

"Jimin really loves scenting", He said plainly, as if you knew what that meant. After a minute of silence he realized you probably needed a definition. Stupid humans, he thought.

"Scenting is really a comfort thing. He's a little more territorial than the others, and I bet he would be pleased if you let him scent you. It's just rubbing scents glands, like your neck or your wrist."

You nodded, taking in all of the notes Taehyung gave you. Maybe this will work, you thought. Can't get any worse, right?

***

That same night, Jimin was in the living room, watching some silly cartoons on the old television. You took it as an opportunity to go and socialize, get to know him better.

"Can I sit?" you asked him, pointing to the spot next to him on the couch. He nodded, scooting over some to give you a little more space.

"You don't have to move, Jimin", you told him. "There's plenty of room here for both of us."

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable", he whispered, never breaking eye contact with the tv. You scoot closer to him, gently overlapping your leg with his.

"Is this okay?" He nodded quickly. You could feel his heart start to race. You could see his mind racing. Something in you made you want to go further, to see how far you could go. You laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping both of your arms around his arm.

"W-what are you doing?" He stuttered.

"Trying to get comfortable", you shrugged nonchalantly. Even though you played it off, your heart was also racing. You hadn't been close to anyone this way in such a long time. You felt rusty. "Are you comfortable?"

"N-not really... n-nervous."

You pouted. "Oh... well, Tae told me that scenting helps calm you down. You can scent me, if you want." You kept your attention on the cartoons, but you could see him looking at you startled.

"How do you know what that is?" He questioned. Maybe she doesn't know what she's asking for... this must be too good to be true.

"Taehyung explained it to me briefly. He said it would make you more at ease." You swung your hair to the other side, tilting your neck, as if giving him permission to do as he pleases. "You can scent me if you want to. I don't mind it, really."

You could tell he was contemplating it, his hand easing its way to your waist. "Are you sure? This isn't something I take lightly. Once, you do this, you're mine." Your eyes widen at his choice of words. His darkened.

"O-okay", you whispered. You couldn't speak any louder, for fear that the tremble stuck in your throat would escape. His? You can't possibly become his, not when he already has plenty.

In a sudden haste, he lifted you from the couch and onto his lap. You gasped, clinging onto his shoulders to balance yourself. He then slid his hand behind your neck, forcing you to tilt your head back, giving him perfect access to your sent glands. Taking advantage of this opportunity, he licks a wet stripe down your neck.

"Holy shit, Jimin", you moaned. it was honestly an accident. Tae told you this was supposed to be comforting for him. He didn't say you would enjoy it. Maybe you should've done your own research.

Instinctively, you try and pull away from him, but it seemed that his reflexes were much faster. He continued peppering you in sloppy kisses, mind in a haze. Jimin couldn't think even think clearly. If he could, he would realize that you were now slowing grinding on his lap, subconsciously trying to relieve the tension between your legs.

"What the hell am I doing?" He whispered to himself. he couldn't stop repeating it. And no matter how many times he said it, he still couldn't find the answer.

Then, as if suddenly finding the answer, he shot up from the couch, tossing you from his lap to the seat cushion. His eyes were wide, obviously in distress.

"Jimin, what-"

"I... I c-cant", he stuttered, backing away from you slowly. You tried to reach for him but it only made him more apprehensive. "This was a mistake... I'm so sorry..."

And with that he ran to his sleeping quarters, leaving you sitting in the living room dumbfounded. Guess things could get worse...

Tags! (still open but filling up fast!)

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden

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icyg4l · 21 days

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PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

169 notes · View notes

reputationmunson · 1 year

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Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4

series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: time to meet the family!

content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.7k

The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.

“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”

“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”

“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”

“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”

“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”

“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”

“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.

Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.

“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.

“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”

“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”

“That’s such a butthead response”

“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”

“Fine”

So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.

The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.

“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”

“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”

Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”

“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”

“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”

He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.

Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”

He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”

“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).

“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”

After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”

“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”

“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”

“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”

“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?

“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”

“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.

“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.

“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.

“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”

“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”

“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.

After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”

“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.

“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.

“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”

“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”

“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.

“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.

“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”

“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”

“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”

“You’re impossible”

“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”

“Gladly”

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.

It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.

There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.

The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.

“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”

“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”

“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”

“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”

“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”

You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.

“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.

“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.

Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”

He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.

“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”

“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.

Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”

“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”

“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”

“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.

“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.

“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.

It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”

“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”

“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.

The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.

“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”

“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”

“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”

The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.

You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.

“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.

You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.

“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.

“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.

“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.

“Are you married to Steve?”

“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”

Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.

Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.

“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.

“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”

“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.

Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”

“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”

“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.

“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.

You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”

His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.

“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.

He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.

“Goodnight, y/n”

“y-yeah, goodnight”

a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE

taglist: @freezaz123 @lovelyimpossibleobservation @johnricharddeacy @mjtalksaboutanything @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus (i hope i didn't miss anyone!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fic

1K notes · View notes

maryangelex · 8 months

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Never Let Me Go

Captain John Price x f!Reader

Part 2 here

Summary: You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

WC: 3,352

Warnings: fluff, smut in other chapters, cheesy coffee shop au, inaccuracies, soft!price, barista!reader, some reader descriptions, slow romance, pet names, meet-cute.

A/N: Remember that Price series I mentioned? Here ya go!!! Each chapter will be the title of a song I feel is related to it or that I was listening to while writing it hehe so make sure to check that out ;) I'm planning for 6 chapters but there might be more. Smut will happen eventually, of course!

The song for Chapter 1 is I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen, but also the covers of it by Awolnation and Gus Dapperton.

Happy reading!!

Dawn was breaking through the clouds. The waking sun broke through grey clouds that poured a steady, incessant shower of rain; the contrast of the glimmering rays against the somber clouds painted a watercolor sky.

You walked down the cobblestone street, the heel of your shoes clinking with every stride as you walked into the coffeehouse at a speedy pace. It was the middle of autumn, the weather was tepid and chilly. You worked at Roasts & Poets, a hybrid of a cafe and a bookstore that your sweet aunt had left your favorite cousin, and she had been gracious enough to let you run it alongside her.

Every morning was the same, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. You arrived at the crack of dawn to open the cafe, you were alone until your cousin arrived much later; you had always been more diligent and work-oriented than her when it came to running the cafe. You went through the whole process of the opening shift: setting the chairs and tables, stocking the sugars and napkins, picking up your cousin's slack from yesterday's closing shift, and setting out the freshly baked pastries.

That's how you start your day every day. Your life was simple yet rewarding. Alone behind the counter, you took in the sight of the deserted shop, the smell of the books on their shelves collecting dust hitting your nostrils while sleep was still weighing down your eyes. The stillness and silence of the shop every morning made you content and warm.

About half an hour later, your cousin arrived. The energy in her contrasted your mellowness. The minute she walked through the door, the sound of her cheery greeting and of the edge of the door's swing knocking the bell atop it sparked you awake. You gave her a wide smile as she stormed in, the rays of sun being her spotlight.

"Morning, cuz," she beamed, you returned the greeting mid-yawn, followed by you letting out a loud sigh. She set her coat on the hooks next to the door beside yours -- you two had set those there as a cozy detail for your customers.

"I had the best night last night," she started, walking towards you behind the counter and tying an apron around her waist the same as you. "Remember that guy I told you about?"

"The Birmingham one?" you scoffed, remembering the drunken night when your cousin could not stop rambling about the bloke from Birmingham who stood her up.

"No," she rolled her eyes, "the hot one my friend set me up with!"

You vaguely recalled, giving her an affirmative nod as your eyes drifted up, trying to remember the details of her extensive, messy love life. The two of you had been close and very similar since you were kids, but what stood out between you was how much of a hopeless romantic she was. You were more reserved about it; even though you knew it sounded cliche, you had decided long ago that the right man for you would come to you one day. Your knight in shining armor, your prince charming, perhaps. So you'd rather wait passively for that moment rather than how your cousin approached men head-on.

You listened to her fawning over her most recent rendezvous with her new suitor, amused and enjoying her experience vicariously.

As the day progressed, you welcomed and attended more patrons. You and your cousin took turns between taking orders and ringing up anyone who purchased books. There were a few regulars who came in every morning for a quiet space to work in, and others who just liked to lounge and read a book they had purchased along with a coffee in the comfy sofas you and your cousin had picked out when setting up the shop -- you had lost count of how many years ago that had been.

When the shop was slowing down, you liked to prop your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your hand as you people-watched. You loved the tranquility of it, thinking about each one's stories, reading them like books.

One of the regulars was a man who always came in a burgundy knitted sweater and sat down with his laptop and headphones. He was quiet and reserved but always left you gratuitous tips; you knew his order and routine like the back of your hand. Another one was an older lady who always wore something pink, no matter what the rest of her outfit consisted of or what the occasion was. She was kind as well, but when she was feeling chatty she would sit at the counter and talk your ear off; today was a quiet day for her as she sipped her chamomille and read her novellas.

As much as you enjoyed the peace of the shop, today was not a great day for silence for you. You hadn't gotten the best sleep last night, you had opted for binging the show you had been obsessing over and downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself. So, between your early start to the day and the light thumping of the headache you had medicated was making your eyes heavy with sleep. You couldn't wait for your shift to be over, maybe you would ask your cousin to let you lie down in the back.

The sound of the bell as the door swung open jolted you awake for the second time today. You stood upright, fixing your posture and glancing at the door to greet the incoming customer. Your eyes captured a man you hadn't seen before around the area. He was tall with a bearded face and had a burly physique, sporting a navy blue sweater and grey coat that matched the beanie he slid off his head. You gave him a welcoming smile, not paying him much mind because of the sleep that still crept into your eyes. He returned the gesture as he made his way across the store, disappearing from your vision.

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your knuckles into your lids. You desperately need a coffee if you want to get through the day, you thought, turning on your heels to pull yourself two shots of espresso. You poured the shots into a cup of milk you had frothed, making yourself a latte to spark some energy into you.

As you turned back around to face the counter you were caught off guard by--

" 'Scuse me, miss?" a smokey voice startled you, making your body jump in place with a gasp escaping your lips. The latte in your hands splashed in your grasp at the sudden response of your body, its contents lightly spilling over your apron.

"Shit!" you hissed, setting the cup down on the work counter behind you and grabbing the nearest rag to wipe your hands clean from any coffee that got on them. You looked up to the man across the counter, laughing at yourself in a mix of embarrassment at your clumsiness and lighthearted amusement.

At that moment, your eyes caught onto the face of the mystery man who had recently walked in. His expression was genuinely concerned and apologetic, truly not knowing what to do with himself as he stood across the counter.

"I'm so sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you," he stumbled over his words, "you alright?"

His voice was raspy and deep, sultry even. You noted the details of his face: blue eyes stared back at you, surrounded by long lashes and bushy eyebrows, his pink, velvety lips slightly parted as if having more apologies to let out, his nose pointed and narrow, and his beard neat and full. He was handsome, truly, and you couldn't look away.

"No worries!" you finally let out, a large smile on your face. "That's what these things are for!" you let out an awkward laugh, too loud to not give away the fact that you were flustered by his looks. Your hands worked the knot of the apron that tied at your waist as you spoke.

The man let out a nervous chuckle as he watched you, still dumbfounded and itching to help in some way like he was uncomfortable with himself for just standing by.

"What can I help you with, sir?" You asked, tossing the apron in a bin under the counter, where you and your cousin kept any kitchen cloths and rags that needed to be washed after your shift. You didn't break eye contact with the man as you did, you found it impossible to when his blue eyes sucked you like the depth of an ocean.

The man cleared his throat and fixed his posture, a nervous smile pulling at his bearded cheeks, "I was just wonderin' if y'could help me pick out a book" he pointed his thumb over his shoulders to the shelves behind him, "Any recommendations? 'M not sure where to look."

You responded with an eager 'of course' as you circled the counter, leading him to the array of shelves. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Erm, up to your suggestion, really," he stood behind you, letting you take the lead, his eyes weighted on you. You responded with a pensive hum as your eyes scanned the shelves, hand holding your chin. You mumbled something under your breath and moved on to a different shelf. You reached for one of the books and turned back to him, handing the selection over to him. He took it from your hands.

Large hands, you observed. You hadn't realized until now how much taller the man was compared to you. You weren't a petite girl, but, this man stood tall; the way he carried himself proudly made him look even larger.

He eyed the book, taking a moment to read the cover. He chuckled lightly to himself and glanced over to you.

"As You Like It," he read.

"You read it?" you asked a bit flustered, afraid you had made the wrong choice, "I recommend it to everyone."

"I haven't, actually," he looked over to it again, "Not very well versed in Shakespeare."

You chuckled a bit, "Well, this is a good one to get you into it."

"I trust you," he said, a smirk on his face that made your cheeks burn.

"It can be a bit hard to read but..." you shrugged, "It's one of my favorites."

"I'll come to you if I need help, then."

Your stomach fluttered at his words. Was he flirting? Maybe he's just a charming guy, nothing special.

"Would you like anything else?" you stuttered. His gaze made you shift and adjust yourself, making you feel vulnerable to have it on you.

"I'd like a tea to keep you company while you finish your coffee if that's alright," he flirted, his husky voice made the hairs on your arms stand up.

You simply nodded with a smile and he followed you back to the counter. He sat on one of the stools as you stood behind the bar, he had asked you for a black tea and you steeped it for him, setting down a creamer and cup of sugar for him to add to taste. You went back to the latte you had made yourself, pouring it into ice after having let it get cold, and observed the man as subtly as you could manage. You noted he liked his tea on the sweeter side, maybe you would use that information for the next time he came around. You hoped he would.

You watched as he took a sip from the cup, humming to himself and licking his lips as he set the cup back down. 'Good tea', he said softly as if to himself. You couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of your lips; something about him enjoying it was pleasant to you.

"I'm John, by the way," he spoke up, his arms crossed on the counter. His eyes were on you again, and they were amiable and warm as they held contact with yours. You responded by telling him your name.

"Are you new around here, John?" you reclined on the counter behind you, your coffee in one hand.

"I am, I just moved in nearby," he took another sip from his cup.

"What made you pick this place, if I may ask?"

"Well, military accommodations, mainly," he cleared his throat.

Military, you thought. No wonder he was such a large and buff man. You noticed the flexed muscles that bulged under his sweater. That sweater did them no justice, you were sure.

"So you're a soldier?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah," he scoffed with a smirk. You gave him a small smile as well but chose not to press any further.

"What about the shop, what made you come in here?"

"Seemed like a cozy place to spend the day," he gave you a once over, not very conspicuously, "the pretty barista's a bonus."

You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the reddening of your cheeks or the growth of your smile that you tried but failed to suppress.

At that moment, your cousin walked through the door. John's eyes didn't budge to look at the door, though, they were glued on you. She passed behind him, giving you the most excited expression you had seen on her face thus far, and mouthed something along the lines of 'He is so fit!" as she made her way to the back of the store with bags of ingredients in her hands. You scoffed at her and returned to look at John.

"You flirt with all the baristas you find pretty, John?"

"Only the ones that look like you," the man quipped, chuckling lightly to himself as if acknowledging how cheesy he was being. His comment made you laugh wholeheartedly, shaking your head at it.

John finished his tea and fished into his pocket for his wallet, "I hate to leave, but... how much do I owe you, love?"

"It's on the house," you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a cheeky look, "for being a first-time customer."

John gave you a smile with lightly flushed cheeks himself along with a grateful nod. He left his wallet in his pocket as he stood up from his seat and dressed his head with the beanie he had come in with.

"I'll come back 'round to tell you how the book's goin'," he signaled the book in his hand on the way out the door, "You make great company, love."

"Likewise, John," you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from gushing at his words. You were using every atom in your body to not let yourself completely overflow with glee.

John gave you a final look and raised his hand goodbye before exiting the shop. You returned the gesture and watched him walk away down the street until he disappeared from your line of sight.

Once he was gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt your heart skip a beat, maybe two, or even three beats as all the blood from your body surged to your face. Your cousin came skipping giddily from the back of the store, squealing like a schoolgirl as she embraced you. You couldn't help but join her in excitement. The two of you spoke in loud whispers behind the counter.

"That man is in love with you!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, he was just flirting!"

"Don't you be ridiculous! His eyes were devouring you, idiot! He might as well have fucked--"

You shushed her loudly and cupped your hand over her mouth, the two of you giggling. You two realized you were still on the clock, with some of the patrons shooting glances at you. It made you both adjust and compose yourselves as best you could, but shot each other knowing looks as you returned to work, cleaning dirty dishes and whatnot.

"So what's his name?" she asked.

"John, he just moved around here-- says he's in the military."

"Agh, hot!" she sang the last word. You rolled your eyes.

"What book did you give him?"

"As You Like It"

"Should've given him Lady Chatterley's Lover, maybe he would've taken the hint," she laughed as you pushed her with a hand playfully.

The rest of your shift went by uneventfully. You continued to serve more customers, tended to the regulars, and maintained the space. When it was closing time, the rays of the sun entered through the large windows, this time casting the golden glow of dusk. You mopped the floors of the shop and let yourself go deep into your thoughts.

You thought about John, of course, studying all the details you had taken note of. The way his lashes fanned over his deep, crystal blue eyes; how much care was put into maintaining his facial hair and how soft it looked; how chiseled his nose was; how the sweetness of his smile complimented the sweetness he liked in his tea. He looked much older than you, but you didn't mind the slightest, it was a minor detail to you, if anything. You recalled how he called you pretty, and it made you blush and gave you butterflies. You really hoped he'd come back, but didn't want to disappoint yourself if he didn't.

Once you two had finished closing, you stood outside the door with your cousin as she turned the key and locked the shop. She continued to tease you about John, making both of you laugh and making you blush with the innuendos and childish taunting she kept telling you. You bid each other farewells until tomorrow, walking your separate directions.

You lived just a couple of blocks away from the cafe in one of the many apartments nearby. A flat you had all to yourself and you enjoyed the solitude, you had learned to be with yourself from having been your only company, besides your cousin, throughout your life.

It made you think about the fact that it had been a while since you had liked someone. Did you like John? The question stood out in your mind. It was definitely too early to tell, you had just met the man quite literally today, hours ago even. But you would be lying if you didn't say you felt some sort of attraction, chemistry between the two of you. Those hopes for seeing him again only grew the more you suppressed them.

But you kept telling yourself 'Don't get too excited,' because you might not see him again, after all. For now, let's simply call it a crush, it's all it was, really. Just a man you found attractive, a kind stranger you made you feel pretty and flattered momentarily, after so long of not hearing any men do so or having their attention.

John certainly gave you a lot of his attention, you thought. Those blue eyes of his. He entrapped you with them. An act as simple as being looked at by him made you feel undressed and vulnerable.

You shook your head when you were in your flat, just standing there in a trance deep in thought. You sighed and cursed at yourself under your breath.

You practiced your nightly routine of eating dinner by yourself, showering, dressing in your coziest pajamas, and sitting on your couch alone with either a book or a movie, and maybe a glass of something, maybe wine or a soothing tea.

And for once in your life, you hated being alone.

For once you wished there was someone to keep you company. A company as nice as John had kept you today even if it was brief. You sulked a bit on your sofa as you let that forlorn feeling take over just a little bit.

And though as much as you loved mundanity, the feeling of having someone new and exciting disrupt your routine sparked a warmth in you.

God, you hoped you'd see John again.

533 notes · View notes

macfrog · 10 months

Text

state-of-the-art sex on fire chapter two

*chants* ceo joel ceo joel ceo joel

part 2 to you shook me all night long!!! massive credit to @whore-4-pedro again for the concept this is SO much fun. work trip coming soon babies!!! masterlist here, ao3 here 💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel’s had a rough week at work. you figure you know the perfect way to relieve some of his tension

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) more teasing and touching, oral (m receiving), getting handsy in public + fingering, unprotected semi-public piv sex, creampie, daddy kink, softdom!joel, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship

word count: 6.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

The stretch is too much; he’s all the way in down to his knuckles, curling and then uncurling his fingers deep inside you. Your hips are slowly circling by instinct, rutting against his hand as it fucks you, sending fluttery waves of pleasure all over your body. You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer. You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”

The black mug. Not the one with the gold handle – that’s one of Martha’s. She doesn’t use it much – at least not as much as the one with her granddaughter’s face printed on it – but she once left you with a stack of paperwork to shred all by yourself just ‘cause you made yourself a tea in it.

No. Just plain black all over. No words, no pictures. Plain. Black.

Few spoonsful of coffee into the filter, hard granules sprinkling over the white paper. Close the lid, flick the switch, and then wait for it to brew. Once it’s done, fill the mug almost to the top – until the coffee kisses the bottom of that one chip in the ceramic. No sugar. No sweetener. No nothing.

Just plain black.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Joel takes the mug carefully from your hands as you wander over, then you perch yourself by his side on Martha’s desk. He takes a sip and nods like usual, confirming what you already know.

You make a damn good cup of coffee.

“You’re worth, what, a few hundred million? You can’t buy a better coffee machine?”

“’s wrong with that one?” he asks, mug on his bottom lip.

“Works like it’s from the eighties or something.”

Martha clears her throat behind you both. “I am gonna give you five seconds to explain what you mean by that.”

“I mean…it’s not exactly state-of-the-art, is it?”

Joel’s jaw drops dramatically. His head wobbles like it’s about to implode, hearing what you just said. “You hear that, Martha? We ain’t state-of-the-art anymore, you ‘n me. We’re older ‘n that coffee machine, you know.”

Martha’s shaking her head, clicking away at her computer.

Joel nudges your arm with a soft chuckle and you sigh, turning away to watch the four men in his office; stood an awkward distance apart, small talking, pacing, adjusting their suits. One of them is messing with some trinket on Joel’s bookshelf.

“You think they’re nervous?” you ask, and he laughs from behind you.

“I reckon they’ve a lot to be nervous about.”

“Was it that bad? On Monday?”

Joel had spent the better part of four hours locked in that conference room, right after you two – you know. He was late for lunch by the time he was ushering them out, collars loose, jackets slung over arms. It was probably a good thing you’d tired him out a little beforehand, or he’d have been way more unforgiving than he was.

Three departments in Joel’s company have gone over budget. It isn’t a huge deal. He has the money. Just, he wants the right people in charge of it, and right now…he clearly doesn’t have that. Honestly, you hate to admit it, but it makes sense. You’re kinda on Joel’s side.

He’d given them to the end of the week to come up with action plans, figure out how to undo the mess. This is the end of the week. This is supposed to be the big reveal.

Joel runs a hand through his hair, palm hooking around the back of his neck.

“Wasn’t great,” he mutters.

You knew that much. You’d asked what he wanted to eat as he passed your desk en route back to his office, and he’d waved his hand and told you to order whatever you wanted with his card. When his door closed, you glanced over to Martha, who shrugged, and went back to playing solitaire.

You figured he wasn’t down for more sex. He didn’t reappear until five o’clock, when he walked you down to the street, carrying your jacket for you, and helped you into your cab.

The elevator dings and the brass doors separate, revealing a figure behind.

George Mackley. Short. Stout. Obnoxiously bright red tie. Head of marketing.

He waddles in a hurry toward the three of you, nodding curtly to Joel as he passes. His shaking hand fumbles around the handle of the office door, which he pulls on instead of pushing, and gives an awkward chuckle before rushing inside.

“Fuckin’…finally,” Joel grunts, passing you his mug and standing up.

“Should I order my own lunch again?” you ask, looking up at the man stretching his arms out before you. Like he’s about to go in and punch sense into them all.

You’d probably love him to do that. It’d make for some great sex afterward.

“I’ll be takin’ a lunch break,” he replies, tapping your knee, “whether we’re done or not. Be out at one.”

You nod, and he stalks off to his office. His mug’s still warm in your lap. You’re still staring when he enters the room, watching how all five men immediately file into the couches across from his desk just at the sight of him. Watching how Joel’s lean figure sits back against his desk, his ankles crossed. His arms folded at his chest. His broad shoulders beneath that tight white shirt.

He has that way about him. Commanding, confident. Strong. It’s probably what convinced you to fold, if you’re honest. Sure, he’s kind, and he’s a good boss, all things considered. He’s funny. But he’s cool. It takes a lot to shake Joel.

This meeting? It’s not shaking him. He’s barely even giving these guys enough attention to sit up straight. He’s so damn breezy, so laidback that when he pushes off of his desk and stands up, you give a small gasp.

You lift his mug, drinking from the same spot his lips touched only minutes ago.

“Thought you hated black coffee,” Martha murmurs.

“Stress sipping,” you reply. “Fucking hell…”

Joel’s erratic. Waving his arms, pacing around the room. You swear the men cower as he approaches; shoulders hunched and heads low until he’s past them.

He looks…Yeah. Fuck it. He looks a little shaken.

Martha tuts. “Shouldn’t be idiots with his money.”

“He has money, though,” you offer. “Like, this ain’t that big a deal, is it? He can afford to go over budget sometimes.”

“Joel doesn’t like anyone messin’ with what’s his,” she tells you. “Doesn’t like other hands on his toys. It’s not the overspending he’s pissed about. It’s the crossin’ the line.”

Your eyebrow cocks. She can’t see your expression, and good thing, because it’d probably give you away. Doesn’t like other hands on his toys.

A flash of movement from Joel’s office drags your eyes from the dregs of his coffee back to the transparent wall between you. He’s whipping the shades closed one by one, putting a barrier between his office and the outside world.

It can’t mean anything good, right? It doesn’t look like they’re about to sit in a circle and braid each other’s hair. Sure as hell aren’t about to see Joel’s good side.

“I gotta go in,” you declare, lifting off of Martha’s desk like you’ve taken flight.

She calls your name, almost tired of your antics. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

But you’re already scooping up a notepad, slipping it under your arm and fishing a pen from your desk. Already walking over to the office door, hearing the dangerous hum of Joel’s voice through the wood.

Your knuckles rap three times. You don’t wait to be called inside. Just push the handle down and slip in.

He’s stood against the frame of one of the windows, hands in his pockets. When you materialize from behind the door, his face relaxes. Brows loosen, jaw slackens. Lips almost tug into a smile.

“Sorry I’m late.” You sidle over to his desk and sit down in his chair, biting on your bottom lip, casting an unsure glance around the room.

Five pale faces turned to you. George Mackley looks like he’s about to weep.

Joel thanks you and then steps forward. “So, Ken, we were at last month’s sales.”

“Uh, yeah…” Ken draws his gaze from you when Joel moves in front of the desk. As he waltzes by, he spins slowly, giving you a look as he passes.

Kill me, he mouths, rolling his eyes. You smile, looking down at your blank notebook. You’re not here to take the fucking minutes. You know that, Joel knows that. You’re only here so he has something to keep him from losing it. Something to sit and look pretty, and calm him down.

Also: you kinda want the gossip. What the fuck did these guys do with all of Joel’s money, right?

Almost two hours in, a dozen games of tic-tac-toe against yourself, and one very crude drawing of Monday morning’s activities, Joel startles you by slamming a file down onto his glass coffee table.

“And you think that’s a solution?” he spits, voice laced with fury.

“Joel, you gotta see it from my side. I’m managing thirty people down there, it’s–”

“’n I’m managing five idiots from up here. Mackley,” he turns to the face as red as the tie below it, “you got anythin’ else for me?”

George Mackley shakes his head. His hair’s unkempt; it was gelled flat to his head when he arrived, but his hands have been through it more times than Joel’s lapped the office.

“Alright. Y’know what,” Joel seethes, backing up and motioning for them to stand, “everyone out. Meeting’s over. Go.”

“Joel–” A tall man with blue eyes stands up.

“If you ain’t about to offer me somethin’ that can fuckin’ fix this mess, then shut your mouth and get out of my office. All of you.”

The men sheepishly collect their briefcases, their documents, themselves, and stand, filing out of the door one by one. You rise from Joel’s chair, taking your notepad between your fingers, and slowly wander around the desk.

He’s standing with his head in his hands, shoulders swelling with his breathing. Does he want you to leave, too? You don’t want to rile him more; certainly don’t want to be the first face his angry self sees. But you want to make sure he’s okay. Want to check on him.

Plus, he’s kind of hot when he’s pissed.

You’re tottering toward the door when Joel drops his hands from his face, notices you, and says, plain as the coffee in his mug, “Not you.”

You turn back, pushing the door closed behind you.

“Didn’t mean to yell.”

You don’t reply. Your hand lifts to find the lock blindly behind your hip, and you click it. Now there’s nobody, no one to disturb you both. No one to walk in, no one to see.

You approach him.

He’s still talking: “Didn’t want you to have to hear all that. I spoil your morning?”

Your head shakes and you mutely take his hands, leading him around to his chair and pushing him back into it.

“Baby, what–”

You part his legs with your own, his fingers still interlocked with yours. Then you think he gets it. Understands where you’re going.

You sink to your knees between his thighs.

“They were bein’ idiots,” you say, fingers undoing his belt. “’n you didn’t spoil my mornin’. You gave me a little bit of excitement.”

Joel’s breath shudders as he watches you tug his belt through the loops of his pants and drop it to the floor. Still, he laughs, and asks, “Is that so?”

“N– Oh, fuck. Not like that. Like–” You pause, breathing out a sigh.

Yeah, okay. Like that, if you want. I’m down if you are.

His pants are open, lying loose on his hips. The waistband of his boxers visible. You hook two fingers over it and peel it down a fraction, following Joel’s happy trail as it grows thicker and darker, when he puts a hand over yours and breathes your name.

“Relax,” you mutter back, nudging his hand off of yours. “Just let me take care of you.”

His head falls against the back of his chair and his shoulders sink into the leather. You pull on the elastic and take hold of the base of his cock, already stiff, slipping it out from beneath the black cotton.

Joel’s knees fall slack when you take a hold of him. Two hands, because he’s so fucking big. Your fists pump him a few times, feeling him harden in your grasp, warm skin rock solid in your hands. You lean forward on your knees, thick bead of saliva falling from your lips onto his head, dribbling down his smooth shaft.

Joel’s watching through hooded lids. Caressing your hair, petting you. Your fingers collect your spit and drag it up and down him, and you swear he almost fucking whines.

Almost isn’t enough. You want to really hear him. So you slacken your jaw, part your lips, and slide them down, tongue flat against the underside of his length as he fills your mouth. Joel’s fist tightens, pulls harshly on your hair for just a second, until he’s breathing out again in relief, body relaxing to the feel of your wet tongue around his hard cock.

“Don’t need to – do this, babygirl.”

“Mhm,” you mumble around him.

“Fuck…” he whispers.

Your elbows are hooked over his thighs, holding yourself up in place between his legs. He tastes salty; skin warm, smooth. Your tongue flickers over his head, collecting precum, and Joel groans.

You pull off of him and lick your lips.

“What you gonna do?” you ask, fingers squeezing and dragging saliva and Joel’s arousal up and down. “About the budget stuff?”

His chest is heaving, hips lifting out of the seat almost like he’s trying to put himself back where he belongs. “What…can I do?” he asks through desperate pants. “Can’t – fuck – can’t drum sense into ‘em.”

You wrap your puffy lips around his tip, kissing it, tongue playing with him again. Swirling around, gathering him on your tastebuds. “Why don’t you cut ‘em loose, then?”

Your head dips again, lips sucking around his shaft, tongue still darting around his swollen head.

He can barely fucking answer. His eyes close over and, with a groan either side of the sentence, he replies, “’s not that easy, baby. Fuck. Keep doin’ that.”

You loosen your lips enough to let your reply pass them. Your voice is muffled, thick. “Sounds easy to me.”

“Shut up,” he grunts. “Keep fuckin’ – usin’ your tongue.”

You obey, running your tongue up and down his length and coming to rest to pay more attention to his tip.

“Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”

You hollow your cheeks and let your lips trickle up and down for a bit before releasing him with a pop. Joel’s writhing underneath you, leaning almost horizontal in his chair.

“Gonna cum, daddy?”

He nods, eyes still screwed shut. “Yeah, pretty girl. You want it down your throat again?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck – dirty girl.”

It’s all the encouragement you need. You widen your jaw, taking him in your mouth in full, until he’s choking you down to what feels like the bottom of your fucking neck. You fuck him with your throat, bobbing up and down, his fist in your hair pushing and pulling even though you don’t need him to. Your mouth meets the skin at the base of his cock over and over, dark hair brushing against your glossy lips.

Joel’s moaning each time, when his cock kisses the back of your throat, when you involuntarily choke around him, when your tongue drags along his length as he pulls you up and down. And soon his breathing loses rhythm, hips tense, and you know he’s there.

He cums, hard, at the back of your mouth. Warm release spilling out over your tongue, neatly running down your throat as you wait for him to still. His cock throbs with each shot of cum, swelling and jerking between your lips. When Joel sinks back into his chair again, you slip him out of your mouth and back under his boxershorts.

Your head lulls to the side, resting on his big thigh as you swallow him with a smile on your lips. His grip on your hair loosens, turns instead back to soft stroking, chest still panting as he comes back down. You watch him through glazed eyes; his shoulders rising and falling, breaths passing his lips like waves at the beach.

He’s twirling your hair gently around his finger, looking down at you like you’re made of twinkling gold dust.

Eventually, Joel takes a deep breath and sits up straight, beckoning you to do the same. He tucks his shirt back in, redoes his pants, then leans forward and hooks both hands under your arms, pulling you up to him.

You giggle as he lifts you onto his lap, straddling him with your knees either side of his waist. Your elbows rest on his shoulders, hands linking at the back of his neck.

His jaw turns upward, and you lower yours, your lips meeting in a soft embrace. You laugh against him, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, pushing yours into his.

“Better?” you ask once you part.

“Better, darlin’. Thank you.”

He kisses you again, a little more rushed, little less tender. Then his hands squeeze your ass and you squeal into his mouth, jumping up off of him.

You pass him his belt and lift the empty coffee mug off of his desk. “Refill?”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” he says, slipping the leather through his belt loops. His shoulders are lifted, tummy sucked in as he feeds it through. He almost looks cute.

You smile and then turn on your heels, wiping the corners of your mouth as you emerge from the office.

—————

“Is he comin’, or what?”

“Huh?”

Martha jerks her head in the direction of Joel’s office. She’s stood at your desk, hands on her hips, bag over her shoulder.

“He’s…Yeah, he said he would be. Let me go check.”

You close over the budget report file you’d been reading through and shimmy out from behind your desk, trying to amble as casually as possible over to the shuttered blinds.

You turn the handle, poking your head around the door.

He’s stood at his desk, raking a hand through his hair, top button of his shirt undone. Tie sitting loose around his collar. He spots you and gives an apologetic smile.

You comin’? you mouth.

Joel points to his phone. Some panicked voice fills the silence between you both.

“…so I gave the two of ‘em a tellin’; they shouldn’t make any more purchase orders without my permission. Without your permission, Joel, I mean…And about last month’s sales, too…”

You step over to his desk, slow, suspicious. Mischief on your mind.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You cock your head, brows furrowing. You’d been looking forward to lunch with Joel all day; something to take his mind off the meeting this morning.

Martha had called his favorite restaurant, they’d told her they had no space, she’d mentioned it was for Mr. Miller, and a table had magically opened up. Then you’d encouraged her to ask Deb, knowing she’d inevitably ask James, her admin assistant, and, before you knew it, your small lunch was a party of five.

Worked for you. You and Joel would probably be too caught up in each other’s company to notice the rest.

Except, the way things are looking, Joel isn’t getting off this call anytime soon. Soon meaning within the next thirty seconds, given the reservation is in ten minutes.

You’re growing desperate. Running out of time, knowing if you don’t do something to shut this guy the fuck up, your little daydream of sitting side by side with Joel, so close you can feel the heat off of him, feel his chest vibrate when he talks, maybe even feel his hand trailing up your thigh…won’t come true.

“What if you just…” Your fingers walk along Joel’s desktop, heading for his phone. “…lost…connection…?”

He doesn’t say a word, but the smirk that forms across his lips grants you all the permission you need. Your fingers clutch the receiver, lifting it barely an inch, then drop it back into its cradle. The panicked voice cuts.

“Oops.” You shrug, straightening up in front of Joel.

“Oops,” he repeats, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders and pulling you into him again. You lift your jaw to kiss him only quickly, before you’re pushing yourself off of his chest and dragging him away from his desk.

“Sorry, Ken!” you call as Joel yanks the door open, the pair of you laughing like schoolkids.

You meet the others outside the building, huddled together at the bottom of the concrete steps. Deb puts her cigarette out on top of a trashcan when you both approach.

“Well, we thought you weren’t comin’,” she utters to Joel.

He lifts his eyebrows in response, hands slipping into his pockets, and glances around the group. “We goin’?”

“Waiting for your driver, Mr. CEO.” Martha winks.

“Aha,” Joel replies, face unmoving, “funny.”

“It’s, like, two blocks, we can walk,” you say, setting off down the street. Joel’s quick to follow, strolling at your side, but there’s a chorus of groans from the rest of your party. “Come on!” you yell over your shoulder.

“We’re supposed to be dining with the head of the fuckin’ company!” Martha cries, and Deb cackles.

“I gotta live like the rest of y’all sometimes,” Joel shrugs, walking backward, “keeps my feet rooted, doesn’t it?”

“I hate you,” you mutter, and he knocks into your shoulder with his own.

The Courtyard is bright, modern, and…beige. It’s only Joel’s favorite because it was a buddy of his from grad school who opened it, but you’re the only person he’s entrusted with that information. It’s decent food – they do a great chicken risotto – and it is always busy, so Drew must be doing alright with it.

You walk under a fake ivy plant covering the entrance, past twinkling fairy lights and to a rustic wooden reception area. Some hyper server comes bounding over and introduces himself as Jake, before Martha gives the name of the reservation and he batters it into a keyboard.

“Lopez?” you ask Martha, screwing your face up.

“Yeah. Comma Jennifer. I like to make it exciting.”

“If you wanted exciting, go for Beyoncé, or something. Lopez?”

“You really think Beyoncé is gonna come eat here?”

“You really think Jennifer Lopez is?”

She bats you away, turning her attention to Deb, who finds the JLo joke hilarious. When Jake springs off, beckoning you all to follow him, Joel leans in close to you.

“She used to use Pamela Anderson. Glad she’s evolved a little.”

You snort and follow Jake toward the same table Joel always sits at: the very back of the restaurant, quieter, separated by screens of more fake greenery. Windows looking out over the busy streets. Bare lightbulbs hanging from unnecessarily long wires over the tables.

Joel pulls your chair out for you and slots in beside you, on your right. Martha, Deb, and James – who hasn’t said or done much more than chortle at anything Joel’s said – sit opposite. Jake borderline frisbees the menus at you guys and tells you to give him a shout when you’re ready to order.

You turn to Joel who shakes his head, hand cupping his chin.

The five of you scan down the menus – at least, you, Joel and Martha pretend to. You’ve been coming here regularly enough for long enough that you know what you’ll inevitably end up ordering. James is asking Deb if the steak might fill him up too much before his squash practice later on tonight when you feel a familiar heat on your leg, and look past your menu to see Joel’s hand curving around your thigh.

You hold back a smile, pretending to be really into the laminated sheet in your hands. So long as he keeps it PG, and James keeps rabbiting on about squash being good for your hand-eye co-ordination, this is fine. This is…enjoyable.

This is exactly what you fucking wanted, when you organized lunch.

But when Jake returns to collect the menus under his arm then scurries back off, and Martha and Deb start discussing some TV show they’re both hooked on, Joel’s hand begins to rake higher. Taking the hem of your skirt with it. You suck in a deep breath, pretending to watch the two women and trying your best to listen to the words they’re saying, but he’s getting dangerously close to your–

“You ever try squash, Joel?”

“Huh?” Joel’s hand halts instantly. You exhale.

James is sitting forward, elbows on the table, nodding with a perfectly innocent smile on his face. “Squash. Yeah. I play every Friday evening, straight after work. It’s fantastic for shakin’ off that week-long stress, y’know? Not that workin’ here is a stress, but sometimes it can build up, sometimes you just need something to…” He balls his fists and jerks them, gritting his teeth.

You choke on a laugh and play it off as a cough.

Joel shifts a little in his seat, his palm still clamped around the top of your thigh. “Never played squash. More of a golfing guy.”

“That what you’re gonna do this weekend? Burn off all that stress you’ve had with a round of golf?” you ask Joel, lips almost trembling with the effort it’s taking you not to burst out laughing.

“Not what I had in mind, naw,” he almost spits back.

“Well, if you ever wanna try it, you know who to call. Squash, I mean. I mean – sorry, I don’t mean call squash. I mean call me. To try squash. You won’t find a better stress reliever.”

“Thanks, James,” Joel mutters, fingers fumbling with the cutlery on the table in front of him.

You could fucking burst. No better stress reliever than squash, right Joel? Nothing like it. Not even the one sitting next to you, her thigh under your grasp. Nope.

You’re thankful when Martha calls your name and averts your attention.

“You have got to watch it. I reckon she’d really love it, right?”

Deb nods eagerly.

“What’s that?” you ask.

They both start chirping away, describing the plot of some mystery thriller. It’s hard to keep up, what with them both speaking over one another, deciding which parts are safe to tell you and No, we can’t tell her that, that’s a spoiler, which actors are in it and how many episodes it took for them to really get into it.

Not to mention Joel’s hand, which has resumed its climb up your leg.

“There are three seasons,” Martha says, finger drawing shapes on her placemat, “and do not go lookin’ online for anything, because at the end of season two, there’s a massive death, and…”

Your thighs are bare again, skirt rolled up and held at the top of your legs by Joel’s wrist. He’s squeezing as he goes, massaging, driving you fucking insane as he adds more and more pressure. Still, your legs part for him the higher he goes.

“W-what– where can I watch it?” you ask, your eyes closing over as Joel’s fingers loosen their grip.

Deb says something, but it’s muffled. Drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Joel’s right hand sits under his chin, elbow propped on the table as if he’s musing over the weather or considering what to do with his weekend.

His left moves swiftly over to run along the elastic of your panties. Sift his thumb down below them. Fingers drop to cup you over the lace fabric. Suddenly, you’re sitting upright, your arms propping on the table, then falling to your lap, then one elbow up, then both down again.

What the fuck– how the fuck do you make this look casual? Being touched by your boss at lunch, with three colleagues sat opposite you?

Joel seems to be enjoying watching you squirm. You hear him breathe a laugh into his hand, and then his fingers begin to travel even further south, moving your panties to the side to sift through your folds.

Which are, regrettably, fucking soaked.

“Hm,” you hear Joel hum, and you can’t look at him. Knowing he’s found exactly what he was looking for. Knowing he’s achieved exactly what he set out to do.

You sit stunned, staying completely still for fear you might draw attention from your company. But then he’s dipping a finger in, pushing deep inside you, and your jaw falls loose, a silent moan escaping in the form of a sigh.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Martha addresses you and Joel, “as requested, flights organized. You leave for Paris next Friday morning, fly home Monday afternoon.”

“Yep,” you reply, shuddering slightly. “Sounds good.”

You’re not fucking listening to a word she’s saying.

“Thanks, Martha,” Joel says, as casual as if he were telling her the time. Almost bored.

You drop your hand and it clamps around Joel’s wrist; you’re sure you’re scratching him, but you don’t care. Not only does he deserve it, but it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming out when he inserts a second finger.

You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer.

You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”

It’s the last push. The last fucking shove.

Your walls clamp around his fist, your entire body screams, a scream that forcibly dies out in your throat as you lean forward and –

You slam your fist down on the tabletop, the sudden jolt of cutlery and glass making the three opposite you jump.

“Are you– what’s wrong?” Martha asks, leaning closer.

“Cr– fuck– cramp,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut, hand still gripping Joel’s wrist. He slowly drags his soaked fingers out of your tight cunt, casually maneuvering his arm back where it belongs whilst the table’s attention is still on your head and shoulders.

“Cramp?”

“My – fucking – leg. I’ll be – right back.” You’re almost hyperventilating as you shakily stand, shoving your chair back with your legs only for it to be caught by the hand Joel had inside you seconds before.

You waddle off to the front of the restaurant, nearly breaking out into a run when you reach the hallway leading to the restrooms. The door to the ladies room bursts open and you throw yourself against a sink, gripping onto the ceramic, chest heaving, shoulders hunched. Your cunt is still throbbing, waves of your orgasm slowly losing power and retreating.

You wave your hand under the faucet and cold water automatically flows, filling your cupped hands, cooling your blood, cooling your skin when you dab it onto your cheeks. You sigh with relief, leaning against the sink, catching pathetic glimpses of yourself in the mirror.

And then, the door pushes open. And his silhouette sneaks inside. He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. Face with a smirk you want to slap off of him.

“How’s the cramp?”

“Are you fucking–” You flick your hands toward him, splashing him with water as he throws an arm up to dodge it, laughing. That fucking laugh.

He wanders around you, looking your shaking body up and down, and comes to a halt with his chest against your back. His chin leans into your shoulder, and you look at each other in the mirror.

It takes everything in you to fight the smile growing on your lips, but when Joel mirrors it, you can’t help it.

“Fucker,” you whisper, and he kisses your shoulder. You lean back into him, ass pressing against him, feeling something you already suspected would be there.

“Feel what you did to me?” he asks, voice muffled into the cotton of your shirt.

“Mhm,” you reply, and you drop your hand to take the outline of him through his pants.

“You wanna fix it for me?”

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, smutty grin melting across your face. “Yeah, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he tells you, lips dragging across your neck, hands at his belt.

Your fingers clutch your skirt, still hiked halfway up your thighs, and pull it further. Joel’s hands replace yours on your hips and he shoves his pants apart, lining his bulge up with your core. Then his palm is at the bottom of your back, pushing you forward into position. Your knuckles whiten around the ceramic sink.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you feel his tip at your entrance. You’re already soaked through, no need for him to take his time. Not that you have time, anyway, with three coworkers out front waiting for the two of you.

Joel thrusts forward, entering you in one go, filling you up so fast you nearly double over. He keeps a tight grip on your hips, dragging you up and down the top of his cock a few times before slamming all the way into you again, eliciting a cry from your lips.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, low, dangerous. “Just gettin’ you warmed up.”

“Your hand wasn’t enough of a warmup?” you throw over your shoulder, and he takes your arms and pulls you flush against him.

“You gonna run that pretty mouth the entire time we’re in here, or you gonna let me fuck you?” he breathes around the shell of your ear.

“Both.”

You bite back a whimper when his hips buck into you painfully. A telling: don’t start.

Joel establishes a pace quick enough, both of you aware you can’t take too long in here. His grunts match the rate his body snaps against yours, your panting matches the rate you bounce up and down on him.

You’re watching the sight reflected in the mirror: Joel hooked around your shoulder, lips against your ear, whispering praises and filth, and you, leaning back against him, rutting on his hard cock with a thick smile on your lips.

“Daddy…” you whine, and Joel’s vice grip tightens even more.

“Good girl,” he pants, “so fuckin’ good for me.”

It’s not long before that heat is swirling around your core again, sparks of lightning jolting through the whirlwind of pleasure Joel’s hips create between yours. You take a hold of his arms for stability as you begin to feel your orgasm crest the horizon, knowing by the sounds he’s making in your ear that Joel isn’t far off, either.

“Cum in me,” you whimper, watching for his reaction in the mirror.

He pulls a face that’s almost…defeated. Groans like you’ve given him an impossible problem to solve.

You plead with your eyes. “Cum – in – me.”

It’s like you’re pressing on the weakest part of a porcelain vase; daring it to break. Daring it to fall apart. Joel knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s more sensible not to. But the way you look, body against his, whining and whimpering and fucking smiling right back at him – the way you feel, so warm and wet, squeezing him so tight he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long…

He can’t fucking help himself.

He moans and his hands clamp on your waist, forcing you forward as he ruts into you once, twice, three times before he’s twitching deep inside, warm seed spilling out and coating your walls. Your release floods over you, then, too, your head falling forward as your legs give for a few seconds, Joel’s grip the only thing keeping you upright.

Stars in your eyes, you pull the strength to lift your head and look at your reflection; Joel behind you, face to the ceiling as he slowly stills between your legs.

Your cunt throbs, and you move your hips back and forth gently, drawing a noise from Joel that you wish you could never stop hearing.

“Baby,” he lulls, looking down to watch as your dripping cunt rocks back and forth, taking him all and then letting him go again.

It’s a minute or so before you both return to reality. Bodies still connected, Joel places a steady kiss to your cheek. You lean into him, turning to place your lips against his. You’re both hot, sweaty, it’s probably pretty noticeable you just fucked.

And you don’t care.

Joel slips out of you and backs up, letting you fix yourself in the mirror as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

“You think you can walk back to the office?” he asks, smirking.

“Call Rand,” you reply, and his head tips back in a laugh.

He nods toward the door and the pair of you slip out discreetly, you first to check the coast is clear, and Joel right behind. You walk along the hallway, heels clicking, like you’ve just come across each other right outside the restrooms.

“Hey, Joel,” a voice says from behind you both as you wander past the bar.

“Drew,” Joel replies, and shakes the hand of a tall blonde guy in all black. His t-shirt’s so tight you can make out his pecs underneath it.

“How’s it goin’? You been in long?”

“Just waitin’ for our food,” Joel says, “it’s probably out by now.” He glances over at you and your legs clench subconsciously. He introduces you then, says, “My assistant. Best assistant I could ask for,” and your lungs close up.

Drew shakes your hand and then turns back to Joel. “Don’t go without catchin’ me, ain’t lettin’ you pay a thing. How’s business?”

Joel nods. “Good, good. We’re, uh, we’re heading out to Europe next week, so.”

“Jean-Marc?”

“Yep.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah. Place is lookin’ good, same as always.” Joel glances around, pointing randomly to the light fixture above your heads.

Drew does that thing men do when trapped in a dry conversation: folds his arms, looks to the floor, and nods some more. Waiting for Joel to say —

“Alright, well. Great seein’ you again. Thanks for lunch.”

He puts an arm around your back and guides you off back to the table.

“Nice meetin’ you.” You smile at Drew as you pass and he returns it, turning back to the bar.

Once you’re out of earshot, you look over to Joel.

“Something going on there?”

“Huh?”

You scoff. “You two couldn’t wait to be away from each other. Why’d you always come here if it’s so awkward?”

“Well, if I see ‘im, I get free food.”

You slap his arm as he pulls your chair back out for you.

“Feelin’ better?” Deb asks, pushing French fries around her plate.

You nod, pulling your seat in beside Joel, who’s still laughing at himself. As you settle, you feel the warmth he left behind spill out of you a little, pooling in your underwear. And Joel seems to notice, whether from some sexual sixth sense he has when it comes to you, or just the way you awkwardly shift in your seat. He hands you a smug smirk, nudging you with his elbow.

You narrow your eyes at him and turn back to Martha.

“So, you were saying you fixed the flights for Paris?”

----------

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #softdom!joel miller #softdom!joel

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

chapter seven: what's the worst that can happen?

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: babysitting/playdate uncle mickey for the girls, a sweet mention of michael <3, seb is sooo love sick, < mick thinks it's hilarious, fun date stuff, some kissing because seb is loving on his lady, mick teasing the two of you, a few cheeky comments, illusions to 18+ stuff at the end ;)

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: finally giving y'all wanted to see; the y/n and seb date! there's a fun lil surprise at the end for you freaky fuckers ;) enjoy it :)

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

"Which one?" Sebastian asks, the one hanger in each hand.

Mick looks up from his phone, finding Sebastian in front of him extremely serious about which shirt he should be wearing on his date with y/n. "Oh Seb," the younger German laughs, "you're nervous!"

"I am not!" He groans, rolling his eyes at Mick's teasing - he was sooo nervous. "Just help me pick a shirt, Mick."

"You're like a teenager with a crush," he smiles, making Sebastian groan once again but he nods towards the baby blue button up. "That one."

"You're a pain in the ass, Mick." Sebastian tells him as he hangs the white shirt back in the closet.

Mick shrugs, making himself comfortable on Seb's bed. "Just doing what dad would do." He says, both of them sharing a smile at the thought of Michael; he would have definitely teased Sebastian about his nervousness, but he would have been the first person to support whatever this was between him and y/n.

The thought is pulled away when they hear the little footsteps coming towards the room, Milly pushing the door open as she flings herself into her uncle's arms. Mick catches the girl, hugging her before he pulls her up onto the bed with him.

Sebastian smiles at the sight of them; Mick's holding the girl, Amelia sitting on his lap as she tells him all about the stuff she has planned for her, Olivia and Mick to do.

Had you told him when he met Michael all those years ago, as a young RedBull driver, that his daughter and Michael's son would be like siblings, he would have never believed you.

The doorbell rings and the girl jumps off of the bed, pulling Mick behind her. The man follows her without much of a choice.

"That's Liv! C'mon uncle Mick!" She shouts, running out the room with Mick right behind her. The two of them make it downstairs, Angie pawing at the front door while barking. Mick opens the door, the little girl runs in and hugs his legs.

"Hi Mickey!" She smiles at him and he smiles, reaching down to pinch her chunky cheek.

"Hi sweetheart, come in." He steps aside, scooting Angie back a bit so they had space to come in.

Angie was licking Liv's hand, Milly making the introduction between her best friend and her fur friend. The two girls run off towards the living room after Milly waves hello to you and Mick shuts the door behind you.

He smiles when he sees you, "wow.. you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mick." You smiled. Angie was running up to you, standing on her back legs as she put her paws on your thighs, barking for some attention.

"Angie! Down!" Mick wags a finger at her and she does drop back down but she barks at him, giving him a look that you can only assume was for ruining her fun. You laugh, kneeling down to pat her side. "Hi pretty girl, dad's no fun huh?" You made a face at her, the dog nuzzling into your arm as you scratched her belly.

"You're spoiling her," Mick laughs when you stand up, Angie running off when Milly calls for her.

"She's adorable. Is Seb ready?"

There are footsteps from your left, you both look towards the stairs where Seb was coming down. "I am."

Mick can't help but laugh; "you know you're supposed to be picking y/n up. This should be the other way around."

You smiled at the boy's comment and Sebastian rolled his eyes, coming down to kiss your cheek. "We're not a very traditional couple, Mick."

Seb takes a moment to admire you; a red top that fit you perfectly and was just low cut enough to leave him wanting more, jeans that were made for you and only you; he resisted the urge to grab your ass in front of Mick - don't want to traumatize the man that's babysitting your children.

"You look.. wow." He smiles, making you chuckle. "You look pretty wow yourself."

"God, this is like watching my parents flirt," Mick gags, walking into the living room.

Seb takes that as his chance; his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him, hand slipping down to rest on your ass when he kisses you.

"Behave," you mumble, wiping the lipgloss off of his lips. He rolls his eyes playfully, "says you."

The girls were playing with Angie on the floor, Mick stretched out on the couch with the TV playing; very big brother, little sisters coded of them.

"We're heading out now." Sebastian announces and the girls come over, hugging you both goodbye. You give them both a kiss on the cheek, making them promise not to give Mick a hard time while Seb was off to the side talking to previously mentioned man.

"So do I get one of those too?" Mick asks when Seb finally lets him go.

Your brows furrow but Mick glances at the girls but turning his face to the side and leaning towards you. Laughing, you kiss his cheek and leave a red kiss shaped mark on his cheek as you had done with the girls.

Sebastian holds your hand, leading you out of the house before you get a chance to change your mind.

You shout on the way out of the door. "Have fun, you guys! Call if you need us!"

The two of you ended up taking Seb's car - he didn't let you drive, claiming that you driving over was all the driving you'd be doing for the night. Sebastian had planned the date, you had no idea where the two of you were going, or if you were even dressed for the right occasion.

So when he pulled up to the parking lot and the neon sign read mini golf, you looked over at him a bit confused. "Are you serious?" You can't help the laugh.

Sebastian shrugs, "Mick suggested it."

"No wonder," you chuckled, getting out of the car. Seb's cheeks are red, his hand resting on your lower back as you two walk towards the front door. "We can leave.. I can think of something-"

"Relax," you reach for his arm, giving it a squeeze. "It's an odd choice but, I'm sure we'll have fun."

"Okay," he nods, exhaling as he opens the door for you. "I haven't been on a date in a long time.. so I'm a little out of practice." The man admits his thoughts and feelings to you and yet there you were making a joke; "Right, I forget you're 800 years old."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. His hand that previously rested on your back reaches over to pinch your hip teasingly, making you smile. You often tease bit about him acting older than he actually is; a lot of the things that you tell him or show him, he doesn't even have a clue about.

Despite the two of you only having a five year age gap, Seb was an old soul in comparison to you.

Not that you minded, you appreciated the stability that he brought into your life as well as Olivia's.

"But don't worry, me either." You tell him, referring to his dating comment. "At least not a good one, anyways."

"So you're certain this one will be good?" he raises a brow, making you laugh yet again as you two walked in.

You nod, smiling at the man. "I think so."

The two of you decide to play a few rounds, making it around the course. It wasn't until you made it to the last hole that the two of you decided that you wouldn't be playing another round.

"Go on," he tells you, letting you hit the ball into the hole. It misses the hole by an inch and you watch as Seb purposefully misses his shot as well.

You line your club up with the ball. "You didn't have to do that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He smiles, clapping for you when you get the ball into the final hole, you take a small bow and hand him your club.

His hand rests on your lower back yet again, leading you towards the exit. "Shall we get out of here?" He asks and you nod. "Where to?"

Sebastian, a gentlemen as always, opens the door for you to get into the car. "I know a place," he tells you before shutting the door and getting in.

It was about an hour drive away. The two of you chatting away as Sebastian drives down a lonely road that leads to what seems like the middle of nowhere. You look over at the man, a bit confused before turning to look out of the window yet again.

There's a big blue sign coming up to your left that reads; drive in movies.

You smile, turning back to Seb as he drives through the gate. "What are we watching?"

"I believe they have the cabin in the woods running tonight." He tells you, pulling into a spot towards the back. It was fairly empty so you could still see the big projector screen.

"You know," you start as you two get out of the car, meeting by the side to walk towards the snack booth. "I hate scary movies."

Seb's arm links with yours, pulling you into your side. "I'll protect you," he says, a goofy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, laughing as you two pick out some snacks.

The two of you return to the car, settling into your seats as the movie begins. It's gotten about 30 minutes into the movie before the first scary thing happens, causing you to jump in your seat and spill popcorn everywhere.

Sebastian looks away, his hand over his mouth as he snickers and you can't help but laugh, your hand reaching out to smack his shoulder. "It's not funny!"

"It kinda is," he chuckled, leaning over to give you a kiss.

The popcorn is long forgotten, Sebastian's hand resting on your jaw as he kisses you. Your own hand wraps around his wrist, pulling him closer. Leaning over the centre console, Seb's hands begin to wander, his lips traveling from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck.

Your cheeks flush red when you realize you're still in public, anyone can look over and see you. "Seb," you whispered, the man mumbles against your neck, moving further down.

A hand holds his chin, forcing him to stop and look up at you. "What?"

"Not here," you smiled at him, giving him one more kiss before wiping the lipgloss off of his face.

It made you smile; at your grown age, he still made you blush and giggle like a teenage girl.

It was nearly 10:30 when the movie ended and Sebastian asked you if you'd like to get dinner. You nod, "but will Mick be okay with the girls?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. We can call if you'd like?"

"Please," you smiled and Sebastian pulled his phone out and called Mick, the two of you watching and waiting to see if they'd pick up.

"Hey," Mick smiles when he answers, sitting on the couch. "Hey," the two of you say at the same time, making you laugh.

"Girls!" Mick calls out to them, knowing that's who you wanted to talk to. Milly and Liv come running in, Angie running behind them as they climb onto the couch with Mick.

The two of them shout hello, overlapping each other as they tell you how much fun they're having with Mick. Liv holds his hand up, "mom look!"

Mick had blue and purple nail polish all over his nails. The man bites back a smile, Milly giggles. "He let us do whatever colour we wanted!"

"That's nice, girls. We're gonna be out a bit longer, will you guys be okay with Mick?"

"Yeah!" They say together, making you smile. Seb tells them to listen to Mick and that when he says it's bedtime, they've got to go to bed. They agree and run off to play again, leaving Mick with the phone.

"Soooo.." he smiles when he gets the phone back, "how's it going?"

"Good," you tell him, "we'll be out a bit later though, you're sure you'll be okay with the girls?"

"Absolutely, I'll put them to bed. You two take as long as you need." He says and you smile when you thank him. You hand the phone back over to Seb and the younger German laughs when he sees his friend.

"Why have you got sparkles on your face, Sebastian?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

Seb rolls his eyes, "shut up, Mick."

Mick can hear your snicker from behind Seb, making him laugh. "Gross you guys. Okay bye, have fun.. but not too much fun!" He says in a fit of laughter when Seb hangs up on him.

"Where to now?" You looked over at him and Seb shrugged. "Dinner?" He suggests and you nod, "but what's open? Most places close at 10."

"I think I saw a diner, unless you want McDonalds or something?"

You hum, taking a moment to think. "Either is fine with me," you smiled.

The man nods, pulling out of the lot. You two end up in the parking lot of the diner only to realize they were closed. It wasn't until you were almost back home that Sebastian pulls into a McDonald's, the only place that was open at this time of the night. You aren't sure since when restaurants close at 10pm on a Friday, but you went along with it anyways.

A brown paper bag sat on the middle console as the two of you ate chicken nuggets, at midnight, in some sketchy McDonald's parking lot.

"You didn't actually say that," you look over at him, taking a bite of your nugget. Seb nods, "I did; I was racing, I was faster, I passed him, I won." The man shrugs, a wicked grin on his face.

You roll your eyes, "you were so cocky."

"If only we had met sooner," he says, leaning back in his seat, head turning to look at you. "I would have charmed the panties off of you."

You snorted, smacking his arm. "You can still do that now, Seb."

He smiles, his head reaching over for yours. Seb's fingers interlock with yours. "Shall we go home?" He asks.

"Will Mick be okay with the girls for a bit longer? I was thinking.. we could, you know.. go back to mine."

"Yeah?" Seb raises an eyebrow, "what for?"

You shrug, smiling at him. Seb gets the hint; "I'm sure he'll be fine. Shall we?" You nod, smiling. "You're the driver, so please."

It's a short drive back to yours and Sebastian follows you inside, his hand holding yours as you walk in. He stopped in the entryway, you were up the first two steps.

"What?" You look at him and he shakes his head, smiling as he follows behind you. You make it up the staircase, stopping again outside of your bedroom and Seb looks at you.

You weren't sure if you were making the right choice; you wouldn't be able to go back if you did this.

"Are you sure?" You asked him quietly and Seb nods, his hand cupping your jaw before he leans in. HIs lips ghost over yours, "I've never been more sure in my life."

Sebastian closes the gap between the two of you, your hand fumbling behind you to open the door. The two of you are tangled together, hands all over each other, lips moving from one spot to the other as you stumbled to the bed.

He lets you get on before joining you, moving to settle between your legs before kissing you again. One by one, the clothes end up on the floor in the pile.

"You're sure?" Sebastian looks down at you, your leg on his hip.

You nod, pulling him down for another kiss. "I've never been more sure."

if you weren't tagged in this, it's because the limit was met. I'll add the rest in a reblog!

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#sugar and spice; all things nice series #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 series #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader

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