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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

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same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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boysborntodie · 5 months

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Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed

-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)

-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes

-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls

-The Greasers always play football together

-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk

-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff

-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of

-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible

-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family

-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11

-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang

-Soda gives killer massages

-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife

-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes

-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it

-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit

-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX

-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him

-Cherry has an older brother

-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog

-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)

-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions

-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him

-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died

-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar

-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger

-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs

-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries

-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store

-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict

-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair

-Johnny loves drag races

-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country

-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting

-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin

-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest

-Darry was the closest to their dad

-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college

-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around

-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'

-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)

-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave

-Johnny has a clean police record

-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous

-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house

-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites

-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes

-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height

-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing

-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either

-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying

-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)

-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church

-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church

-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters

-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth

-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate

-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay

-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper

-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there

-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else

-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew

-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace

-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang

-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads

-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears

-Cherry drives a Sting Ray

-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm

-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems

-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his

#the outsiders #johnny cade #dallas winston #se hinton #ponyboy curtis #dally winston #sodapop curtis #darrel curtis #two bit mathews #darry curtis #cherry valance #marcia #steve randle #tim shepard #curly shepard #the greasers

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tremendum · 1 year

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Mr. Miller

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)

word count: 6.8k requested: yes. here and here :)

summary: “six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.”

warnings: Jackson era, mentions of marijuana use, age gap (unspecified), sliiightly dub!con, smut (PiV, unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, choking, spit kink, slight knife kink (do not look at me), dom!Joel (brat tamer!Joel if you squint), slight sir kink, so much dirty talk, lots of begging, degradation kink, dacryphilia, mean!Joel, this is just shameless smut i am horrible notes: okay i kind of modified these asks but I thought it’d be fun to write it like this!!! as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because i am INSANE! xoxo

( read the sequel other Joel fics: fever landmines )

★

to be completely honest, you never would’ve guessed you’d move to Wyoming.

of course, in this world you didn't really have much of a choice of where you end up; it was hard to travel, yes, but there was some guiding hand that invisibly pushed you upon Jackson in the middle of a really rough winter.

a girl, lost and on her own through the dangerous sprawls of what's left of the United States - of course Tommy and Maria had accepted you into the community; you were resourceful, willing, and strong-headed.

most of Jackson was nice.

the people were good, the community functioned, and you were finally safe - you found a job working partly as a patrolman if an extra hand was needed, but mostly as a gardener.

it was a beautiful basin valley with sprawling mountains that glittered in the snow even during summer.

you'd only been there for - what, maybe half a year? six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone.

Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.

you didn't particularly get off on the correct foot with Joel Miller. when he showed up in town, people were thrown off. you surely understood that - but it was Tommy's brother, and Tommy insisted he would be fine; he and the girl with him had already been 'round Jackson before, leaving just a week or so before you showed up, apparently.

you'd definitely heard about him.

coincidentally, you'd actually moved into the house that Tommy had wanted Joel to have; the house that had the spare girl's bedroom which Ellie came through to ravage once they came back into town. (apparently the towels at Joel's were too rough no matter how many times they were washed, and Ellie really liked that Tamagotchi you'd found in the bedroom she once slept in.)

maybe that'd already put him off, the short time in which Ellie had found company in you. who knows.

but unfortunately, your first impression of him was muddled by a very real lens of beer-goggles and a long week's aching exhaustion in your brain. he was large, a tall man whose disposition dripped of domineering power; he didn't trust anybody here and by the looks of it, they didn't particularly adore him. he kept to himself besides Tommy - who unfortunately along with his wife were really your closest comrades in the community.

you almost felt bad for him, because that's how many people saw you at first. but on that night, you were just drunk enough, as you greeted Maria and Tommy at the bar with smiles and a joke about your libido, that you didn't quite realize that Tommy's big brother Joel was sat there, eyes watching you with a glimmer of something lurking behind the rim of the beer bottle.

to be fair: everybody in this life is unkind in their first impressions. that's just how the world is now - 'every man for himself' is an unfortunately ugly reality and those who are too soft to see that are rarely spared the gore.

but when Tommy introduces you to Joel with a huff of a laugh and a friendly slap on your shoulder, Joel's eyes are distrusting, judging. he doesn’t say anything to you.

you try not to be offended.

"pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Miller." you nod with a grin, your cheeks hot with slight intoxication as his large, calloused palm slips into yours. his grip is tight - your wince is covered with your words as you momentarily shoot Maria a look, turning back to the man in front of you.

"I met your girl earlier. stormed into my house like she owned the damn thing. was lookin' for some stuff she'd found last time, I guess. I'm just glad she didn't find my collection of big-girl toys."

okay. okay, yeah, maybe you are too drunk. Maria laughs, at least, and Tommy lets out a chuckle, eyes flickering to Joel. but he just hums, eyes glancing over you once more before returning to nurse his dark beer with a furrow of his brows. “right.”

and pathetic as it is, he was too damn irresistible; you’d imagined that stare -that brooding scowl- one too many times in the dead of night, hands down your pants or in a stranger’s bed.

and it hadn't gotten better in the months following.

it was of circumstances most unfortunate for you that Joel and Ellie moved into a house just a few down from you - as much as you wished to just never see the man and his censorious stare, it was unavoidable. especially when Ellie showed up nearly day-to-day with questions, excuses, or even just complaints of boredom to coax you into letting her inside your house.

a week or so ago, you’d overheard Tommy in a hushed voice down at the dining hall trying to convince Joel it was a good thing, that Ellie was learning to garden, learning about woman stuff (yes, he actually fucking said that), and - god forbid- make friends.

but you love Ellie.

she in't like Joel. she’s funny, and lively, and easy-going once you warmed up to her. in fact, you actually started to collect things from around town to show her on her ceremonious visits; books, tattered board games, once you even found a trumpet in the crawlspace of your old house. it was rusty and honestly probably still had dried saliva from whichever fifth-grader played it way back before the outbreak, but it was enough to entertain you and the fifteen-year-old girl for hours even if neither of you knew how to play it.

and maybe it was after Ellie mentioned to you with a giggle that Joel complains about you calling him ‘Mr. Miller,’ or maybe it was when she said he’d always ask about you and what you’re like whenever she returned from your days together.

no matter what the catalyst really was, you just know you have it bad for that man, in the worst way - because he is a fucking asshole.

but the worst of it was when Joel and you get paired up to patrol together on the outskirts. it means hours together of breathing and awkward looks, silence from you because he was silent and clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

you suffered through hours of Joel’s rugged sageness for survival, tugging you effortlessly through boulders, lifting yourselves high through dilapidated structures in the middle of the wilderness. he was strong and capable and fucking sexy, and that made it all the more unbearable when snide comments about your youth or your inexperience or your lack of punctuality would pass his lips. it was annoying how hot it made you.

as the summer rolled around, the horde was growing ever-present at the lips of Jackson county, festering like the moss that spreads along the woodsy forests in the northwest - hence your increased activity with the others who patrol the area and keep the community safe.

he was a many of almost no words, and though you were in no way the same when you were around people you trust, the man just brings out the skeptic in you - so for weeks, it was days of the two of you walking in silence, the only noise being weak impasses and jabs at the other’s self-esteem all veiled by a smirk or an eye-roll.

and still, each day out passed with your untrustworthy gazes pinned on the horizon just as much on each other's trigger fingers.

you're at your wit's end on one Friday evening as you finally return into town from patrol with him.

Joel is a man plagued by too many unnamed illnesses; the likes of which you so fondly call in your head 'can't-accept-help-itis' and 'stubborn-old-asshole-luenza.' part of his symptoms render him unable to say full sentences to you without a judgmental look or a skeptical scoff, and sure you're not always the best judge of character, but you're confident that Joel has his eyes on your backside every single time you bend over to move your marker on the trail. he’s thought about it, too.

but right now, you’re so tense you’re about to snap.

his gaze hasn't left your profile for - you swear to god - almost thirty fucking minutes. like, nearly the whole walk from the first outpost. he’s been staring at you like you’re a ghost, or a second head sprouted from your neck.

the heat of the summer night is unsullied; though you’re high in elevation, the warm wind blows a gust over your bare knees and ruffles your hair, coaxing a damp feeling to settle between your thighs under his gaze.

"if you stare any harder at me, you'll get a fucking nose bleed." you sneer, keeping your eyes ahead as you grit your teeth. his gaze is burning into your side and with your words, they maintain their heat.

whatever he was thinking, he keeps it to himself. you glare at his own profile, thick thighs, sturdy chest, hair that blows gently in the warm air. his jaw, glinting against the lights that guide you back into town. at least he’s looked away from you. good.

your victorious smirk is wiped off of your lips with his next words, the first in several hours from him besides grunts and directives. "d'you have the logs on you?"

you look at him with revelation. "shit." you sigh shaking your head, "they're- they're at home."

his face slides into a look of disdain, deep vexation at the task of now going back with you to your own house to sign the logs and confirm your findings for this patrol. "great." he mutters, feet kicking into gear to hightail it up the street, towards your house.

the heat is swirling around your legs in the darkening evening as you finally enter your house, sighing into the empty air. the lights flicker when you switch them on, and you'd bring yourself to be more embarrassed about the disheveled state of your things if it had been anyone else with you.

it doesn’t even matter, after all; his sights are set one one incriminating little piece of evidence in the corner of the living room.

the small nub that sits on the tray by your windowsill seems to be more salient for Joel than the hurricane that threw your belongings across the space.

your hands fall onto your hips, sighing as he accusingly lifts it from its ashy grave, eyes furrowed in irritation. your flannel sticks to your sleeves in the heat as his eyes meet yours.

"is this- 's this marijuana?" he's incredulous as his fingers pinch the burnt-out roach, and you screw your brows at him; is he serious? you ignore the dwarfed look of the small old joint in his large hand, instead rolling your eyes. "yeah, some folks call it weed. you can smoke it and it makes you feel real good. you ever heard of it, Mr. Miller?" you snark, the sarcasm spilling from your lips deliciously; Joel eats it up like a man starved, his jaw ticking as he tilts his head.

you know he secretly loves when you taunt him with the honorific; yes, it gets on his nerves, but there’s a secret air about him that suggests he likes it that way. it is easier to blur the lines between hate and desire than affection and desire, after all.

"Ellie comes over here every day." he hisses, eyes sharp. you blink slowly at him, trying to fight the laugh that creeps up your throat; his gaze is dark, furious - did he think you were smoking weed with the girl? she's, like, thirteen. (fifteen, she corrects you in your mind. but still.)

"that’s correct." you confirm, turning from him to search the kitchen for the log you'd forgotten in your haste to leave. his footsteps ring angry onto the floorboards. "if you're worried about that, I’d never smoke around her. 'm not that disrespectful." you defend, avoiding eye contact as you shuffle through your drawer of junk.

"doesn’t matter. she won't be coming round much more." he threatens it - tests the waters. as if he has the authority to punish you.

you lift a brow at him, "don’t you think she should be able to make that choice?" you throw back at him, tossing your switchblade onto the table to your right as you sort through the miscellaneous items with both hands.

uh oh, that struck a nerve in the man.

his eyes sharpen as he breathes harsh at your words; "don't talk about things you know nothing about, girl." he snaps, crossing his arms, "now find the fucking log so I can leave."

you glare at him, gesturing in front of you; your eyes scream no shit, Joel, I’m looking.

it's silent as you search through the drawer, gritting your teeth in the tense silence of anger, thicker than molasses.

you click your jaw, refusing to let it go, let him think he won.

"I do have self respect, y'know." you pipe up, lifting a brow as you finally stumble upon the log, pulling a dying pen from the drawer and scribbling notes as you plop down on a wooden chair at your kitchen table.

Joel stays standing; it does not go unnoticed when his eyes take in the contours of your body, the clothes that stick to you in the heat of the summer; a pair of jean shorts, torn from years of use, and a thin tank top, covered with an unbuttoned flannel. his eyes sear into you at your words.

wow. fuck him.

(no, not like fuck him, but- fuck him.)

"never said you didn't, darlin'." he mutters condescendingly, the pet name leaving his mouth bitterly. any form of backlash you were going to unleash on his dies in your throat quickly when he leans over your shoulder to sign his own name next to yours. your eyes widen to search his face as his own skim over your account of the patrol. he's- wow, he's closer to you than you would have expected.

holy shit. smoky swirls of gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey. they fill your nostrils, dizzying your mind as you let out a stuttered breath - it's hot in here... your eyes glance as a small lick of sweat trickles down his neck. your throat is dry, heat swirling in your abdomen as he hums, "jus' think Ellie should start hangin' around with others."

"why's that?" you snap, daring him to say it. fuck, your heart is pounding in your chest. oh, if he just admits it; that he thinks he's better than you, that he thinks you're pathetic - lord, you yearn for it, you’d have a fucking field day. you want an excuse to hit him. or bite him.

fuck Joel Miller, and- okay, fine. fuck him, too.

his brows are furrowed as he glares hawkishly at your stubborn form; his gaze is serrated with disdain, jaw clenching with the words you're just begging him to admit.

"she's been cussin' and speaking...vulgar." he mutters, eyes flickering away from you. your jaw unhinges as you huff in surprise; he has the audacity to accuse you for teaching her to be foul-mouthed? hadn't she traveled with him for, what, a year? she’s a teenager - that’s what they do.

"oh, please." you snap, "that girl was far from a princess when you showed up here, you know." you mutter, tossing a look over your shoulder up at him, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt staring at you, mocking you.

"I know." he dismisses. his hand falls to stable himself on the back of your chair as he leans down towards you, "but you ain't helping. don't need her gettin' into any more trouble."

you narrow your eyes, "trouble?" you parrot, accusing.

the air is warm, thick as you cross your arms, the windows open and flowing the outside summer air into your nostrils. "how could I be trouble? you hardly know me." you snap, offended. you swirl with irritation.

"because I listen. people think you're harsh. untrustworthy." he spits, smirking down at you as if his words are poison that'll dissolve your whole being into a small puddle of regret. but no, it's gasoline; his words are enough to incite your flames, lick you alive with ardor.

he doesn't like you? oh, big fucking deal. you don't like him.

"you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Miller?" you drawl, lifting an accusatory brow. “what if you’re the bad influence? it’s not like you have any more manners than I do.”

his jaw sets and his nostrils flare from his sharp exhale; you let your eyes swipe over the splattering of freckles that peek out from under the scruff beard that grows; a scar jags across his skin, frown lines creasing his scowl in a dark, terribly attractive way. you’re tip-toeing a line here, you can feel it.

he can feel it, too.

his eyes dip down, though you try hard to hold his heated gaze; they trail slowly over your shoulders and down, down to the dip of your collarbones and then over your breasts, heaving slightly with the proximity of the man. his gaze nearly melts the tank top that stretches over your torso and a flood of excitement rushes through you, pooling in the seat of your underwear. a smirk creeps onto your face at his wandering stare - resentful, loathing, heated.

something in you snaps, and you can't deal with it any longer; not with his proximity, leaning over your shoulder and staring you down, with half-rolled sleeves. his forearms, they’re thick- goddamn, he's so-

"-I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you want to kill me, or you want to fuck me." you snap, breaking his spell as you snap his attention back to your own eyes with your bold choice of words. "either way, it'll have to wait. I got shit to do, Mr. Miller, and for some reason, you're still in my house giving me fuck-me-eyes."

"-you better watch your mouth." he snarls, chest heaving as he leans forward menacingly, his jaw clenched.

you let yourself smile up at him, "or what, Mr. Miller?" you ask kindly, voice dripping with perfidious innocence.

he sneers, eyes raking over your form, jaw ticking. your body flushes with warmth under his scrutinous gaze; one of your bare legs slides up to rest on the chair next to you, on full display snd illuminated in the light of the kitchen as you smirk at him. his dark chocolate gaze slides over the skin revealed; your skin tingles in excitement under his watch. it makes you chuckle.

"what, you don't like the way I speak?" you hiss, glaring at him. "chastising me for shit that you do, too?" you mutter snidely, pulling your leg back down as his eyes glare into yours. "I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to say. fucking hypocrite."

your hand presses into his chest, standing to your full height. his chest is firm, hot, but he lets you do it easily, moving back out of your space; giving you an out, offering you a chance to say this-isn't-what-I-want. but you won't take it. no, instead you slide up closer to him, until you're too close.

"why so quiet now, Mr. Miller?" you almost purr, your hand still toying with your switchblade, the glint of it reflecting in his eyes. slowly, you lift the blade to trace it gently, softly over his jawline, as you’d do with your fingers. he watches you like a damn hawk, breathing heavy.

the scratch of it against the facial hair is enough for him to snap; suddenly snatching the blade from between your fingers in one quick motion.

“you’re testin’ my patience.” he growls, shaking his head as he holds the handle of the knife in an iron-like grip. you shake your head, “yeah, well, you’ve taken all mine.” you counter. “so…” you start, raising a brow at the knife in his hands, the way your legs are turning to putty, “you going to kill me, Mr. Miller? or fuck me?” you whisper it into his ear, up on the tips of your toes as the peppering-gray curls at the base of his ear tickle your lips.

a sharp exhale - almost a surrender. then, a rough hand pushes you down against the table, hard. your body is pliant, willing, excited as his force brings you to thud against the wood, his hand flying down quick just to your right in a loud thud.

your head snaps to your right, eyes wide and jaw open; your switchblade pins your own flannel to the table, stabbed down and holding the material and your arm in place. christ, it barely missed nicking your skin.

“depends on if you can learn some goddamn manners.” he growls, leaning over you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

maybe it’s the look on his face, or just how damn long it’s been since you had someone, or just because it’s Joel – but your facade falls so quick and you’re soon keening up towards him, arching your back so your chest sticks out.

“I’m a fast learner.” you promise; at that, he merely hums, his hips grinding slow over yours. you let your eyes squeeze shut, groaning lightly at the bliss of his rough denim sliding against your shorts-clad cunt, throbbing with desire.

you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of his hips against yours, licking your lips to wet them; “fuck, Joel-“ your breath is strangled, “please. I can be good for you.” you try to convince him, blinking your eyes up at him. his smirk is downright evil as his hands fall to your top, skating over the tops of your breasts before one hand grips your jaw in his large palm, squeezing hard onto your cheeks and forcing you to stare into his eyes.

his grip is unforgiving. “y’think you can jus’ bat those pretty eyes at me?” he sneers, his breath hot and fanning over your face. you’re overheating- god, it’s so fucking hot in your house; your hand raises to grip his forearm, swallowing your pride for the sake for finally getting to feel him inside you, “’m sorry, Joel.” you mutter, cheeks squished by his hand.

his brow furrows, shaking his head. a chastising tutting noise escapes his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding sloooow and smooth against your dripping cunt, aching with desire.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he spits, pushing you harder against the table. your throat is dry, a whimper of desire escaping your throat. his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans more of his weight on you, your legs wrapping around his hips and your own surging up, up in search for some friction, “say it. say you’re not sorry. you like it, I can tell.”

shivers spill down your spine as you bite back a moan, cheeks alight with heat at his teasing. Your eyes lull over towards the blade that holds down your shoulder, pinning you against the table. a hot rush of arousal floods your underwear as you swallow, eyes rising to meet his in a lidded gaze.

“I like it,” you admit in a shameful gasp, hand sliding up to explore his chest, “I’m- I’m not sorry. I like it, ‘m not sorry.” you mutter, voice desperate, pathetic; you’re swallowing a whimper as he grinds slowly against you again, his hardened cock straining against his jeans.

his hand snaps to pin yours down to the edge of the table; your eyes snap up to his, meeting the swirling lust within his deep eyes, searching your face with a dangerous smirk. “you aren’t sorry?” he asks, voice dripping with condescending cockiness.

you shake your head no desperately, searching his eyes to see if he’s pleased.

he smirks at your desperation. "you will be, darlin’." he mutters, his own eyes exploring your chest as it heaves, breasts barely spilling out the top of your tank top’s hem. you smile up at him despite your desperation; hunger curls in your chest as you move your hips up against him and his face falters, a groan escaping his throat. his eyes swirl with the dark shine of a man who is nothing less than dangerous.

the hand that isn’t pinned by the blade creeps up his arm, brushing the thick cords of muscle that rope his bicep and shoulders; soon, though, one of his hands is gripping your wrist and slamming it down against the edge of the table.

you gasp from the roughness, biting your lip as your fingers curls around the edge and hold tight under his grip.

“don’t move your hands,” he mutters as his lips dip low to trace over the seam of your top, breath brushing over the soft skin of your breasts. “or I’ll leave you here, pinned to this table.”

arousal floods you at his words and you nod silently, swallowing as his teeth bite roughly at your pressure point. “d’you hear me, girl?” he grunts, his hands moving to pull out one of your breasts from your top, your peaked nipple instantly tugged between his prying fingers.

you let out a yelp at the sensation and he huffs against your skin, biting again. “fuck,” you whimper loudly, bucking your hips as your hands grip tight against the edge of the table; one arm is pinned with the knife anyways, but your heart thunders as his tongue peaks out, brushing hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

A hand snakes to your throat and you can’t stop the moan you let out, air sucking through your windpipe at the light grip he keeps; you’re obsessed with how all-consuming he is.

Joel’s everywhere – his smell, his eyes, his hands, tongue – you want him to be inside you, you want him to be in you forever, ever, ever.

fuck Joel Miller. fuck him, and fuck him.

“I asked you something. answer me.” he squeezes your throat as he emphasizes, as he demands you; you buck up against him, convinced you’re soaking through your goddamn shorts, leaving disgusting proof of your sick, twisted arousal as you move against his crotch.

his dominance causes your face to flare with heat; you weren’t expecting him to seduce you into submission - you love it. “y-yes, yes, sir. I he-heard you.” you gasp, face flushing hot as the words leave you. he smirks darkly as he pulls away from you, danger lurking in his eyes deliciously as he nods, seemingly pleased.

he nods. “good.”

his hips are gone from you in an instant and your gasp is choked – but he wastes no time in popping the button on your jeans, sliding them and your underwear off of you in one long motion.

his pupils somehow blow even wider as he stands in front of you, palming his thick cock through his jeans, watching you pant hard.

you’re exposed in front of him – your pussy is swollen with need, pulsing with desire as one of your breasts rests exposed to the air as the knife pins you down by the arm of your flannel; you’re fucking exposed and you love it. he’s intoxicating.

“you’re soaked.” he says after a moment of silence so long that you barely register his gruff voice. you blink, bringing your eyes back up to his from where he’s begun to undo his belt.

you can’t help the light smirk as you stare up at him, “maybe I happen to like it when you’re vulgar with me.”

he glares at you but there’s a hint of something more that flashes through his eyes; adoration? no, it couldn’t be. Joel Miller can’t adore anything.

but then out of nowhere his fingers delve through your velvet, slippery folds in a fervor; your breath chokes yet again in your lungs as you tense with the sudden stimulation.

a low, guttural moan falls from your lips as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub tight, slow circles on your clit, “bet you taste so good, don’t you?” he murmurs, his teeth finding purchase upon your neck, sucking a mark so hard you’re sure you’ll have it for weeks. christ. “y’want me to taste you, pretty girl?”

fuck. images flash through your mind of him on his knees, tongue unraveling you, drowning in you while your thighs close around those thick greying curls.

your moan falls from you fast, nodding quick, “yes, yes, please, please, use your mouth.“ your whines are downright embarrassing – you’re not a wide-eyed virgin teen, for fuck’s sake – but Joel’s stirring you just right, making you purr with pleasure.

but instead of his tongue, a harsh swat falls onto your aching cunt and your hips jolt at the stimulation, your clit throbbing and the sting making you groan his name. you can’t help the moan of disappointment.

“well, isn’t that too bad?” he snarls, his voice mean. you feel tears of frustration spring in your eyeline as you huff a sigh, his fingers slowly, torturously moving over your clit yet again. “bet you’d love if I ate your cunt. probably dream about it, don’t ya? d’you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Christ, you’d never expected Joel-don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-Miller to be so fucking dirty; but you learned your lesson last time, so you nod quick, eyes lidded through the euphoric, teasing pleasure from the pads of his fingers.

“all-all the time, J-Joel, fuck, think about you all the time.”

and it’s true.

“that’s right. my slut, thinkin’ about me.” he spits, mouth peppering bites over your throat. “gonna have to make y’cum fast, baby. Maria’s probably waiting for us t’turn in the logs.”

the possession in his voice brings you even further towards the edge, catapulting you, sending you frustratingly close as your body tenses, puckering hole clenching around nothing as he slowly works you.

you nod your head, unable to open your eyes as your legs close around Joel’s fingers; in anger, his hand tears your thighs apart, swatting the soft skin of your thighs in punishment. you yelp at the sting, biting your lip as a new gush of arousal leaks from your neglected hole and drips down onto the table.

fueled by frustration and adrenaline and some desperate fire of attraction that’s been burning between you since he first showed up in Jackson, you nearly scream, “please, fuck me now, Joel, please I’ll do anything-“

his hand leaves his ministrations quick, his glare sharp as his fingers glisten with your desperate arousal; they’re soaked. you feel yourself flush in embarrassment until he smirks darkly, tugging himself out of the confines of his jeans. “there, see? learnin’ some manners.”

his cock is heavy and thick as it slides through your wet, slick folds. your breath, panting out and puffing as you watch in awe. his: stuttering as the tip of his dick notches at your clenching hole, teasing.

“Jesus, you’re trying t-to swallow me, darlin’.” His hand reaches out, grabbing a palm full of your tit as he rocks his hips, once again nudging your leaking hole.

your whole body shivers in anticipation; you will your eyes to not reveal how fucking turned on you are about his size - you’re more wet than you’ve ever been in your life and his cock is - well, it’s thick, long, bigger than you’d like to admit.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy.” he grunts to himself as you hold yourself as still as possibly, one tear escaping as you your eyes clench shut in desire.

“’m ready, Joel.” you whimper, eyes opening to find his hot gaze already searing through you; he just smirks, nodding slightly. “yeah, bet you are, pretty girl.”

he can’t thrust all the way into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt slick with arousal but still so goddamn tight. the rumbling moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. your fingers twitch at your sides as you yearn to card your fingers through his thick curls; his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “s’tight, baby, fu-fuckin’ tight.”

“so much,” you whimper, fingers tight and shaking as you restrain from grabbing his arms to stabilize himself, “‘s too much.” you mumble, tears stinging. he hums, the ghost of a kiss over your cheek before he’s in your ear, whispering, “am I too big for you, baby? gonna hav’ta work you open on my fingers first next time, yeah?”

his dark grin grows as you nod your head dumbly, “fuck- yeah, yes.” you agree, nodding,

his voice is starting to slur, accent getting thicker as he soon splits you fully, speared and sheathed deep, deep into you. you’re fluttering around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly breaking you open as he starts to shallowly thrust.

you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he pulls out, thrusting back into you slow, grinding, deep.

all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling coiling in your abdomen.

his hands roam.

they explore every part of you they can reach, his teeth marking every inch of your throat and painting you into a beautiful piece of art. for him.

the noise of your pussy swallowing his girth in is downright filthy as it echoes through your kitchen; your head lulls to the side as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel stray tears leak down your cheeks, hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close, already, you know he can feel it.

“y’gonna-“ he grunts, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as yours leak down your cheeks, body shaking with desire, “-gonna take my cock and say thank you, ‘s that right?”

a shaking rush of arousal just slickens you even more; the sounds of his body rocking into yours wet and loud in the room as you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast.

but it seems you weren’t quick enough with your response: Joel’s hips slow, then stop completely.

you’re left gasping, eyes wide as you stare up at him in shock: “wh-why?” you whimper, his pulsing length half out of you, teasing you.

Joel’s eyes meet your own and he sternly swats your tits, eyes watching as the breast exposed to the air moves in recoil.

“do you want to cum?” he asks, as if he’s asking what 2 + 2 is. your face fucking burns as you nod, “yes-“

but he grunts, hips too agonizingly still as he leans forward, “then take my cock, fuck yourself on it. and use your fuckin’ manners.”

you blink at him, spurring into action only after a very brief short-circuited moment. your hips stutter and shake at the angle, unable to move in a way that stimulates yourself enough to bring you back to the edge.

you shutter, muttering, “th-thank- thank you,” but you can’t do it. you glare at him as you move your hips, hands shaking, muscles straining, but you can tell he’s not pleased: brows drawn, a swat to your exposed breast that stings and spurs your hips quicker.

“come on, this is pathetic.” he snarls, fingers gently pinching your clit. the yelp you let out is dry, starved. “why so quiet now, darlin’?” he throws your own words back at you deliciously.

he stands stationary, eyes judging you, focused on where your cunt tries to swallow his cock, your movements choppy and weak. tears spring in your eyes; he feels so good, but you just can’t get it right.

“please.” you nearly whisper it, but it’s exactly what he was looking for. he rocks his hips shallowly, your body rocking gently with the slow, deep force of him splitting you open.

“please, what?” he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. resentment and arousal flows through your veins as you let out a strangles, “please, s-sir-“

with the words, Joel’s hips cant up into you, the slight angle making your legs coil and your throat burn.

“please fuck me, y’feel- I can’t do it, need- you feel so good, fuck me hard, please, I want it.” you let go, begging and desperate to give you what you crave.

his hips pick up a brutal pace. your back is pounded into the wood below you, the cool blade of the knife cold against your flannel as one of his large hands moves you until your legs are thrown up, over his shoulders.

the stretch is unimaginable and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust; his hips are unforgiving, fucking you open and letting your juices of arousal spill over the skin of your thighs and onto the table.

“such a foul fuckin’ mouth on you.” he spits, one hand gripping your jaw until it opens for him, your mind clouded with the chase of your highs.

he spits into your mouth, saliva warm and intoxicating as you swallow it happily, nodding in a daze. “gonna fuck you stupid, aren’t I? you won’t think about anything but me for weeks.”

he’s right, and he fucking knows it.

you nod at him, unable to form full words as he hits the spongy, delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out. your hands fucking ache from the grip on the table, but you hope he’s pleased that they haven’t moved a damn inch this whole time; even as he splits you wide open and takes you apart.

you’re so close you might actually start to sob as the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking.

he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier.

“whose pussy is this?” Joel grunts, his movements soon desperate and deep; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up the table with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.

the pain is fucking euphoric, delicious as you grip the edge of the table so hard you’re unsure they’ll ever relax. his finger pinches your nipple and you yelp, sweat sticking to your forehead, “-y-yours, fuck, Joel- yours, a-always.” you whimper, breathless.

you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest seem out of place with the bruises that will soon blossom on your skin from his teeth, his fingers.

you smile, too.

"god, you're perfect- f-feel fuckin' perfect around me, baby. need you to cum." as his sentence ends, his head jerks up, one hand rising to grip your jaw tight. your eyes snap to his and the anger boils, festering with the desire and lust within his eyes, "know y'can't help it, can you?"

you shake your head fiercely as your orgasm nears. he hums deep, a rumble from his chest, “what do you say if you want me to let you cum?”

fuck. fuckfuckfuck you’re too close- your muddled mind spits a barely cohesive babble of pleads, “please, p-pleaseplease I-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” he presses, hips not giving up; your whole body burns as you wait for your orgasm, knowing in any second it’ll be ruined. “look at those pretty eyes. did y’learn your manners? y’gonna say thank you?”

you let out a sob of pleasure, his thrusts so deep you can feel them in your throat. “yes, Joel- please- let me cum, please-“

his hand slides to your throat. “cum now.”

you swallow around his grip and let out a near scream of his name as his other hand snakes between you; a finger brushes against your abused clit, the combined stimulation pushing you over the edge.

you see colors.

your orgasm explodes as you gush around him, pulsing, begging, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name followed by thank you, thank you drifting through the room.

your thighs are soaked with your own spend and he feels you grip him like a vice; he can't help but kiss the tears from your cheeks as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear.

"that's it, baby. there y'go, cum on my dick when i fuckin' tell you to." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl."

you scream at his words and the overstimulation. he shushes you, thrusts slow. "'m gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you.

he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. he moves back, frantic to pull out and ride his high- but you panic.

"w-wait!" you rush, hands springing without thinking to push his hips hard against yours. you can't bear to imagine him pulling out of you so soon - you need to feel him, be full of him. "cum in me, Joel- I need it, j-just- fuck!"

his hand slams over your mouth, effectively silencing you with a loud grunt of his own, "shut the fuck up," he growls, sounding too close. “jesus, girl- gonna wake up the whole n-neighborhood-“ but even his shamefully dirty mouth falters when he chases his orgasm.

soon he thrusts shallowly into your pulsing cunt before he's moaning, spurting his seed into you.

hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as you flutter, whimpering as you breathe heavy, hands skittering up his back despite his earlier orders.

his lips brush over your skin as he lies on you, heavy; "jesus christ." is all he mutters, pulling out of you with a slick sound and tucking himself into his jeans.

you can only stare at the ceiling, the light above the table you’re laid upon swinging with the residual force of your bodies colliding.

a hand falls in a sharp thud to your right, pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the notch it leaves reveals the patrol log; speared in the middle with the evidence of you and Joel's digressions.

oops.

you're wrecked. you're a trembling frame of a structure after the hurricane of Joel Miller took threw you, stripping you to your bare bones. a ghost of lips over the inside skin of your knees as they fall, weak, off of his shoulders. and then he stares at you as you shakily sit up, setting your clothes right, swallowing on a raw throat.

“‘m sorry about the flannel.” he gestures to the rip in your arm where the knife had pinned you down and something about it makes you chuckle, smoothing down your hair. “are you- are you okay?” he asks suddenly, hard eyes looking almost soft under the glow of the lamplight.

he hands you your underwear and jeans and helps you slide back into them in a surprisingly sweet turn of events.

“more than okay, christ. if you make me cum like that again you can do anything you want to my clothes.” you wink with a deep breath, smiling gently at him when he helps you stand back up on shaky legs. he actually sends you a half-smirk at that, and it flutters along your chest.

the nighttime air is not so suffocating as you and Joel make your way towards Maria, his hand grazing over the small of your back as you walk on Jell-o legs, faces flushed and sweat slicking to your skin.

it’s awkward.

“I-” he starts, swallowing air as you stare up at him. sweat trickles from his brow and you itch to trace it with your tongue.

“I actually think you’re not too bad,” he finishes, turning to walk up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s. you blink, heat fluttering in your chest as he admits, but soon whirls around to ensure you hear him, “for Ellie. just- don’t do that shit around her, right?” he clarifies.

you grin at his reddened cheeks as he tucks the log into the box set near the door, filing it under the western outpost for the date.

“yes, Mr. Miller.” you mock-salute him, smirking to yourself as his flush deepens, the scowl ever-present on his face softening slightly at your smile.

“christ.” he shakes his head, “you’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” you don’t miss the smile that creeps on his face as he starts to walk you back home.

read part 2

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alexias-putellas · 24 days

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are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

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drvscarlett · 2 months

Text

About You Pt1

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: I know I said that its a whole one shot only but I don't think that I can do it. I have to cut it because there is a lot of history. I hope you all enjoy.

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine

2005, Circuito de Jerez

The earliest memory that Y/N has of Sebastian Vettel was watching him test the Williams-BMW car.

It was her first time accompanying Mark and she was still grasping some of the key concepts of Formula 1 when Sebastian headed to the car. She watched how he drives and how the team were discussing about how he is a potential driver for the seasons to come.

"You know Seb is just a year older than you" Nico Rosberg, who has been keeping you company for the testing that afternoon, stated.

"Then that will make him the youngest driver if he enters Formula 1"Y/N mused.

Y/N didn't know but she was pretty excited to see him on track. She knew that this Sebastian will change a lot of things in F1 and will probably make history. At the same time, she can't help but be a bit worried since its a dangerous sports. One second you can be living the dream and then the next you find yourself recovering in a hospital room.

Sebastian Vettel gets out of the car and lifts his visor. There was a certain spark in his eyes that Y/N didn't miss out. Its the spark that showcase how much he loved to race.

Y/N didn't miss how her heart skipped a beat.

2006, Istanbul Park

The next time that Y/N sees Sebastian Vettel was during the free practice. He was a Friday driver for BMW-Sauber and he is as impressive as the day she first saw him in Spain.

"That kid just set out the fastest lap" her brother, Mark was shocked by the time set by Sebastian.

"That kid has a name" Y/N stated "and its Sebastian"

"Oh how come you are so informed about this missy?" he wondered

"He drove with you in testing season last year remember" Y/N replied.

The replay on the screen showcases the bold moves that were made by Sebastian. It was like he was driving like he is a man on a mission. If Y/N will bet, there is a lot of teams that will be shortlisting his name to their team.

"What do you think about him?"

"A little bit of reckless, I mean 6 seconds in your formula 1 career and you already have a penalty. There must be some kind of record for that" Mark was referring to the speeding penalty that Sebastian received as soon as he left the garage.

Y/N mumbles a small hmm as she continues to watch how Sebastian moves around the track. She was sure that sooner or later, she might see Sebastian more often.

2007, Albert Park

Fridays aren't too crowded as the Sunday races but still there was a bit of pressure in Sebastian Vettel's shoulder as he entered Albert Park.

He walked the paddocks and tried to visualize himself not just a Friday driver but an actual driver for the Sunday races. He pictures the screaming crowd chanting his name, the smell of burning rubber, radio messages from the team, and even being at the podium with the champagne.

In his daydreaming, he didn't realize that he bumped into someone. All he saw was that a girl was down on the ground with papers all over.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was not looking where I was going" he apologized.

"I'm equally at fault too"The woman assured "It was not wise to type and walk especially since this whole place is swarming with people"

Sebastian helped the girl compiling the papers and he noticed how the papers seem to be like contract for sponsorship. He looked at her and tried to identify which team did she belong to but her lack of team merchandise makes it difficult.

"You're new here?"he tries to decode.

"No, I'm not. I've been coming here since 5 years ago" there was an accent in her voice. Australian, if Sebastian was right.

"Huh, you must know your way around this whole place"

She takes a closer look at him, "You're that rookie Sebastian Vettel"

Now Sebastian doesn't have a huge following that he knows of and this is probably the first time that someone outside the family knew about him. Now, he felt even more curious about the girl.

"How did you know my name"

"Hard not to especially when you set a record to having the fastest penalty in their f1 career" she joked.

Normally Sebastian will be annoyed by the reminder of his mistake last year. He choose to forget that small mishap and avoid talking about it. But this time, he felt like the giggling is contagious that he can't help but smile when talking about his mistake.

"I assure you that I'm a much more better driver now" he states, holding up his hand as if saying that he swears he is a better a driver now.

"Hoping to see you deliver Vettel" she grins.

The girl started walking away from Sebastian when it occured to him that he didn't even know her name. He rushed to catch up with her.

"Wait, I didn't get your name"

She looked at him and there seems to be a slight hesitation

"If we meet again in a formula 1 race then I'll tell you my name" then the girl walked out of his sight.

2007, Indianopolis track.

It seems that luck has been on Y/N's side because she managed to avoid Sebastian during the past races. But it seems as if this luck is running out slowly since they are bound to meet up this weekend as Sebastian was bumped from reserve driver to formula 1 driver due to the injury that Kubica sustained in Canada.

She was hanging out at one of the coffee machines when she felt somebody tap her shoulder. She gave him a smile upon recognizing him.

"Sebastian Vettel, shouldn't you be preparing in your f1 car now?"

There was a loopy grin on his face, "Mystery woman, I was beginning to think if you are just a figment of my imagination.

Y/N pressed the hot cup to his hands, "I'm very much real and not just a figment of your mind"

"So will you tell me now your name?" Sebastian wondered. He has to admit that it has been bugging him for weeks on end about who this mystery woman is. He even went to ask around the paddock but his description was very vague and no one could help him.

"Its Y/N, nice to meet you" Purposely leaving out the last name.

In Y/N's mind it was just a safety pre-caution to leave out her last name. It was for her own good as well because people tend to act differently once they hear about your big brother or your connection to the sports. For once in her life, Y/N wants to be seen as just Y/N.

Maybe she just want to prolong this little charade for a little while longer.

"Y/N nice to finally meet you"

2007, Nürburgring

Maybe its the home turf advantage that boosted his confidence but Sebastian managed to ask Y/N if she would like a tour around the place. Thankfully, she agreed. Sebastian was already blabbering about the places that they have to get to and Y/N had to remind him that they're not staying for a vacation.

He will tell you that he is not freaking out but he prepared for the whole afternoon. He even asked his mother what outfit should he wear to make it seem like a casual hangout. In his defense, he never had a lot of friends growing up and he certainly didn't have beautiful australian girls around.

"You know you don't have to bring me flowers, were just touring around"

It was his idea to bring flowers because he often sees it in airports. When someone new is in town, they bring them flowers. He felt like the orange gerberas were a good pick as advised by the florist he knows.

"But the flowers made you smile" Sebastian grinned "I'm more than pleased to have a happy tourist to tour around"

Then two engaged in a conversation about their early life. Sebastian shared stories of the town he grew up in and his stories of motorsports.Y/N, on the other hand, listened and shared some bits of her life in Australia before she traveled around the world.

Eventually the duo ended up in an orange farm, where they picked out oranges and waited for the sunrise to set in the horizon. It was a core memory that they will share with one naother.

"We should do this again sometime"Y/N suggested

"Its a breather for you and I" Sebastian agreed "Away from all the lavishness of F1 and the pressure of the sports"

"Sounds like you wanted to run away with me"

"Who wouldn't want to run away with someone like you?"

2007, Fuji Speedway.

The past few weeks has been stressful for the Webber siblings. The articles published by some news sites seems to be getting on Mark's last nerve. Everyone seems to be taunting him about how he is over a hundred of race starts already but then he still haven't won anything. The pressure is high and Mark was determined to prove them wrong.

"Mark just don't do anything stupid okay?" Y/N begs.

She watches as Mark suit up for the next race. She was already used to her brother racing but she knew this race was a little different since her brother wanted to win.

"I'm not going to be stupid Y/N, I'll drive good today and I'll get that win that they want"Mark grumbled.

Y/N handed the helmet to her brother, "Just stay safe, I don't want to lose you"

"I'll come back safe"

The race went underway and as usual, Y/N watches it in the comforts of the driver's room. She did not want too many attention focused on her and she felt like her heart might actually come out of her rib cage if she watches it on the stands.

Japan's wet races gives Y/N a heavy feeling that something bad might happen. Her heart beats rapidly as she watches cars after cars spin out or crash. She prays that none of them was Mark. or Sebastian.

There was 20 laps to go when her ears started ringing that a Red Bull has been rear-ended by a Toro Rosso.

'Please don't let it be Mark and Seb. Please don't let it be Mark and Seb'

But the voices in the Red Bull pitlanes and the storming voices of Mark confirms her worst nightmare.

"That kid is so stupid, he shouldn't have been allowed to drive" Mark roared "I had that in the bag, I was going to win"

Y/N immediately hugged her brother, "Its alright, the win will be coming soon Mark. What matters is you are safe"

There were frustrated tears from Mark as he cried in the embrace of his sister. Privacy was given to the siblings as the race continues on. She was so focused on her brother that she didn't notice that there were several messages in her phone.

Seb: Where are you? Seb: I messed up my race and Webber. Seb: Call me when you get this. Please?

2007, Shanghai International Circuit

It felt like a heavy weight on Sebastian's shoulder after he messed up. He kept on blaming himself that he did not just mess up his own race but he also messed up Webber's race. It did not help that Y/N was not replying.

The media has also been eating him up with the way that Webber responded to him. He was called a kid that did not have enough experience. It stings a lot but now he has to put up a brave face and just race.

"SEB! SEB!"

Sebastian looked back and he saw Y/N. There was no hesitation in him but he immediately hugged her. It was the only time ever since Japan that people aren't mad at him or hounding him for questions. He felt at ease to be with Y/N.

"Where have you been, I have been messaging you over the weekend"

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Y/N says "And before I forget, I made you this as a token of my apology"

In her hand, she has a paper bag. Sebastian's curiosity is piqued upon looking at the contents inside the bag. There was a tupperware with food and a sticky note in a messy handwriting "for sebastian vettel, you can do it."

"You cook?"

"I don't but hey its the thought that counts. I figure that you might need-"

Y/N doesn't have to explain a lot because Sebastian already appreciated the gesture. He hugged her again and it seems like everything just got a little bit lighter for Sebastian that weekend.

It wasn't Sebastian's weekend at all but remembering the little note, that was tucked inside his helmet, he felt a lot better. He can bounce back next season.

2008, Autodromo Nazionale di Monza

This was the internal dilemma of being Sebastian's friend and being Mark's sister. The two of them are in different side of the coins for this season. Two drivers shared the same family with Toro Rosso being the sister family of Red Bull but it seems like that's their only similarity.

Then there was the mixed emotion. Of course, Y/N was proud of Sebastian because he is slowly improving and shining with every grand prix. She was always elated when they see each other post-qualifying or post-race at the hotel rooftop (it has been their common knowledge that they will meet up there so that they can get fresh air together). On the other hand, Y/N knows about the pressure that it is being placed with her brother. Mark has been declining and losing hope for a maiden win. He has been in the sports for some time and he believes his time should have arrived by now but he lost opportunity after opportunity.

Y/N can't fault anyone for this one. Both of them just wanted to achieve their dreams. She wished everything does not have to escalate but here they are in the 2008 Monza Grand Prix.

Sebastian Vettel was starting on pole while Mark was starting third. Everyone is buzzing about the possibility that Toro Rosso might clinch a first win before Red Bull. It was something that Y/N knew bugged Mark's mind.

It didn't help that it was a rainy start and it sort of brought her back to Japan 2007. She was not an overly religious person but she prayed to any higher being to please don't let Mark and Sebastian crash with each other again.

The race went underway and the rain was not as heavy as Japan. Still there was some crashes and some spin. But Y/N felt the conflict of emotions start again upon seeing how Mark started to drop places while Sebastian pulled away from the rest.

Y/N went out of the driver room when it was nearing the end of the lap. She didn't know whether she should run and congratulate Sebastian or she should stay behind and comfort his brother.

Of course, blood is thicker than water.

Mark looks absolutely defeated as people started to ask him about how he is feeling when their sister group got its first win before them or how did he manage to mess up his 3rd position to eight.

"Just please give him some space, we will be answering the questions later" Y/N stepped up. Right now she was not Mark's sister but rather Mark's assistant.

Y/N helped Mark to go back to his driver's room so he can get a few minutes to himself before he gets questioned by the media again.

"It feels like shit. I feel like I can't do anything right" Mark threw his gloves across the room.

"It wasn't your time yet Mark" Y/N replied. Its like a broken record at this point which frustrates Mark.

"Then when will it be my time? Sebastian has been here for just a year or so and he already have a grand prix victory"

Y/N knew that this was the dam breaking. No words can comfort her brother right now so she just went to give him a hug. She could only wish in silence that Mark gets his win eventually.

On the other side of the paddock, there was cheering. Sebastian Vettel was in cloud 9 as he saw the Toro Rosso mechanics and engineers calls out his name. Everyone was in full party mode that they have even tossed Sebastian up in the air.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. They wanted to ask him about how he is feeling or how he created history today. He was the youngest driver to have a maiden win and the first one to bring victory to Toro Rosso.

But Sebastian eyes seem to search for someone in the crowd. He wouldn't voice it out but there was a certain woman he was hoping to see when he stepped into the podium. It had a slight twinge in his heart but the roaring crowd silenced that feeling.

'Maybe I'll see her later' Sebastian thought.

However, there was no Y/N in sight for the rest of the weekend.

2008, Marina Bay Street Circuit

Sebastian was still experiencing the highs of his Monza win and the Singapore GP has also been a good race for him. He might not have a podium finish but 5th was good enough. However if there was one thing that bothered Sebastian was the lack of Y/N sightings.

He tried messaging her after Monza but there was no reply. He thinks its probably weird that he didn't even get a congratulations because surely Y/N would know about it. There might be a couple of reasons why she didn't see it which is a) she was sick or b) she resigned.

Sebastian was gunning for the first choice because surely Y/N won't just resign without saying goodbye.

So imagine his surprise when he saw the woman that has been bugging his mind at the exit of the pitlane.

"You could have answered my texts you know" that was Sebastian's greeting to her

Y/N seems to be caught off-guard by Sebastian's presence. She was still in her work outfit Sebastian takes note as she was carrying a tote bag.

"I'm sorry. It just got a little busy for me"

Sebastian nods, he understands how having a job here is quite difficult. He could not fault her for that.

"Why not lets celebrate? I won in Monza and I finished fifth here"Sebastian offered "Consider it as your make up dinner for not congratulating me"

There was that hesitant smile gracing her face again and it reminded Sebastian of the first time she didn't tell her name. She seems extremely conflicted.

"Seb I would love to but I still have to do some work and-"

"Y/N, there you are"

Sebastian and Y/N whipped their head to the source of the voice. Mark Webber started walking towards them. It confused Sebastian as to why he knew Y/N but then he remembered that Mark was probably the one that Y/N has been working with.

"I told you to wait for me"Mark says as he picked up the bag of Y/N "I was just fixing some things with Christian"

"I can carry my stuffs myself Mark" Y/N replied

"But you have been walking in your heels the whole day, it's going to make you cranky sooner or later" Mark quipped back.

Now this confused Sebastian. It seems like their dynamics is not just work related but rather something personal. He also felt like he has missed a whole chapter and he feels very invisible at the moment.

"You two know each other?"Sebastian managed to ask.

There was a panic in Y/N eyes as if she wanted to explain but it was Mark that beat her to it.

"Of course, I know her" Mark admitted "Why wouldn't I know my sister?"

And it was that moment that Sebastian pieced out why she haven't been able to message him or why she was MIA as well in Japan. He felt stupid because he never inquired why she didn't give out her last name or why she was booked at the same hotel as the drivers.

Great just fucking great.

2008, Interlagos

It was eating her alive that Sebastian is not in speaking terms with her.

In hindsight, she understands that sooner or later, she has to tell him about who really is. She just didn't know that it will be as early and as unprepared as what happened in Singapore. She also got an earful from Mark who questioned how did she manage to meet Sebastian and why does it seem like the two are close with each other.

Honestly, she can't wait for the season to be over so that she can rest from all the drama but she knows that she has to make amends before winter break starts.

And so she slipped to the Toro Rosso garage, under the disguise that as Mark's assistant, she has to talk to Sebastian. So here she is in Sebastian's driver room, waiting for him to arrive.

"Can't I deal with this after-"Sebastian immediately stopped in his tracks upon seeing Y/N "Oh its you"

Silence enveloped the two of them. Y/N has a practiced script in her head but no words doesn't want to come out.

"I'm giving you five minutes or I'm kicking you out" Sebastian warned.

"I just came here to say that I am sorry. It wasn't really my intention to deceive you. I just wanted to be friends with you without my last name being too intimidating. I know that its terrible but I was going to tell you my name someday but Mark just got into the way and its all shit"

She was word-vomitting, she was sure of it. But hey its better than keeping everything as a burden on the shoulders.

"Say something please?" Y/N wondered with Sebastian's silence.

"You could have told me, don't you trust me?"

"I trust you Sebastian. Its just, its really complicated to be seen as Mark's sister or Mark's assistant. I just want to be just Y/N when I'm with you"Y/N sighs.

Y/N felt bummed as she thought she could fix this before winter break starts but she knows he might need some time.

"I know that its not easy to forgive me. Its selfish of me to do that so I won't force you to forgive me" she says "I'll give you some time to collect your thoughts"

Y/N reached out for the door when she felt a hand tugging her back. She saw Sebastian reaching out.

"Just give me some time"

"I will. Don't worry" she understands "I have to say I'm really proud of you this season. You did well Seb"

There was that silence when Sebastian held her. She knows things are far from okay and there is the upcoming season that has the possibility of Sebastian being upgraded to Red Bull but in this moment, none of that matters. Its just them. Just Y/N and Seb.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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write4cench · 9 months

Text

distractions.

summary: central cee and you decided to collaborate together on a track together, but when things get a little too heated your minds drive… elsewhere

pairings: single!central cee x reader

genre: smut.. just smut

word count: 2.6k+ (unedited)

a/n: this is my first smut lmao can't believe i've done this, i mean i couldn’t help it central cee too fine. i’m not the best at it though.. 😁😁🙏🏾

central cee and you both spend your time in his private studio, located in his apartment. it's decently sized but not too spacious, regardless it gets the job done and the both of you manage to produce and record your lines for the track.

you've both wanted to work with one another on a song together and so have your fans, they've been awaiting this for so long that your management team decided it was the best decision.

you stand on inside of the booth looking down at the lyrics sheet that lies in front of you, humming the rhythm before the track plays within your headphones and you begin to sing along over your back vocals.

cench sits in front of you layed back in one of the wheely chairs that sit behind the booth, he watches you sing nodding his head to the rhythm of the song but also impressed by your vocal abilities.

it's the two of you alone in the studio which is quiet unusual considering the fact that during the last studio sessions the studio was filled with friends of central cee who decided to show up.

but instead this time, it's only the two of you. but it feels far from awkward it feels comforting and you both focus on getting the work done.

the song's chorus comes to and end and he stops the instrumental from playing again, upon finishing you glance at him and put a thumbs up asking him if you did good enough of a job, he nods and you do a small celebration that makes him laugh.

he begins to speak but it's too muffled due to the soundproof booth so you take your headphones off and open the door slightly to hear him better, "you did great, we don't even have to run it over again." he admits and you smile.

"you sure, i feel like some of it was a little off." you tell him but he shakes his head in refusal so you decided to leave it since it is his song after all.

"can i hear it over?" you ask him and he nods playing it over again, you put the headphones back onto your head and listen to it carefully.

the song starts off with central cee's wonderful rap that as usual never miss, the song then slips into the chorus that you sing and the beat drop before it sounds perfect.

the booth of you glance at one another in satisfaction at the song so far, sharing a smile as it continues before stopping at the progress so far.

"i think it's great so far." you say with a sigh as you sit behind the booth on one of the wheely chair turning yourself side to side.

"it's more than great." he mumbles.

the room is quiet and you decide to take out your phone, you glance at the time to see it read 10:43pm, it's getting later and you consider leaving within the next 20 minutes.

he finds an interest in the piano in front of the two of you, playing random notes that don't even sound too great together, you watch him finding the sight hilarious he notices so and shrugs embarrassed.

"i'm not too much a piano player," he sighs shaking his head trying to save himself, "i took lessons for a week and gave up on it." he clarifies and you nod your head numerously in a joking manner.

"can you even play any instrument?" you ask him genuinely and he shakes his head, your mouth drops in disbelief.

"maybe it's something i should get into, i don't play anything." he admits before smiling sheepishly.

"i'll show you something."

your hands find a placement onto the keyboard, testing out the position by pressing down on the notes to get the right keys. you begin to play something small and watch how his face turns into full surprise.

you smile as you continue before you get to distracted by him watching you and pause, "i can't focus with you watching me like that." you tell him annoyed and he laughs.

"forget i'm even here." he sighs closing his eyes and leaning back into your seat; you watch him do so frowning.

"how am i supposed to forget your there." you tell him but he doesn't respond so you exhale deeply before continuing to play the piano.

you'd admit, it's been a while since you've last played the piano but you've impressed yourself by still remembering the notes to the piece you play every single time.

you continue to play the piano forgetting he's even there until you come to an end, when you turn to look at him he's still laid back into his seat with his eyes closed, his hood lying over his head.

is he sleeping?

you hit him on the side of his arm and he winces before sitting upright, his hand rushing to soothe where he was attacked, "that fucking hurt." he groans and you smile to yourself.

"were you sleeping whilst i was playing?" you question him and he sighs still whining over the punch you just gave him.

"you didn't need to punch me like that," he starts watching how you only smile, "i wasn't sleeping, i was just resting my eyes innit."

you hum in response and watch how he sits upright in his seat rolling the chair over to stand beside you, he glances over the keys on the piano before speaking. "teach me something." he says.

"what am i supposed to teach you." you question him, he shrugs his shoulders with a yawn not helping you one bit.

"i dunno, maybe a chord or some shit." he utters and you bite your lip in thought of watch chord to do. he watches as your hand runs along the keyboard thinking of a position before it plays a chord.

he watches you carefully and when the pleasing sound rings he glances at you only to find you looking at him already, "did you see that?" you ask him and he shakes his head.

you roll your eyes in response, "what, am i supposed to get it on the first try?" he questions you confused only to see you nod.

you watch as his tattooed hand reaches over attempting to do the same hand movement that you did, but it doesn't succeed to make the correct sound.

"no, your supposed to do it like this." you mumble, your hand reaching over to correct his. you move his hand one down along and place it on top of his getting him to push it down as it sounds the correct chord.

"what chord was that?" he asks you curiously, you glance to look at him and it's only then you both notice how close you are to one another.

"c." you say. upon hearing your response he laughs to himself and you watch him confused, after seeing your confused face he stops laughing.

"it wasn't a c, for central cee." you mumble.

"yeah, definitely."

"you're not that special." you joke to him as you move your hand away from his and he nods gazing at you, it's only when you look up that your eyes meet his.

"mhm."

silence. you don't know what to say to him and you won't lie the way that his voice sounded when he hummed did something to you. you feel your cheeks begin to redden and you mentally curse at yourself.

luckily, the room is tinted dark blue so it's impossible for him to notice a thing; or it could just really be due to your melanated skin.

it's obvious that he notices how he's caught you out of words as a smirk grows upon his face, you watch his lips do so until he brings you out of your thoughts. "i got you quiet, i won." he mumbles.

you remain quiet not saying anything until the space between the two of you becomes smaller, before you could think of anything your lips press against his.

you can feel his smirk widen against your lips wider before he kisses you back, deeper but not too desperate. you don't even notice the fact you've just kissed central cee, your mind is just completely filled with.. desire.

the kiss runs long and you feel his arms wrap around your lower waist bringing you close to him, but the inconvenience of the chairs makes you get up from your chair and sit up on his lap instead.

it's then that everything hits you and you pull apart from his lips, your chest heaves numerously in sync with his and you eyes glance all over his face as you realise what's happening.

his gaze reads something completely different, his once playful eyes have turned dark and hazy showcasing lust instead it makes you ache for more and the position of you siting up on him creates even more need within your lower region.

"fuck." he says and before you know it, he's kissing you again. the kiss is more desperate and you fall into it, he takes the dominance but you try to keep a hold of everything by wrapping your arms around his neck.

you feel him grow harder and harder beneath you just how you grow desperate and desperate, you need him badly just as bad as you need him. you'd never ever think that tonight would turn out the way it did.

your hips subconsciously begin to move slowly against his but he grabs a hold of you stopping you, his lips part away from you and you frown at him, he sees this and smiles.

he kisses your neck and you lean your head back giving him even more space, you don't care that you'll probably end up with hickies all over your neck when you feel him slightly bite you, all you need is him.

"i need you so bad." he mumbles against your neck before pecking your neck all the way up to the side of your face, you look at one another before it hits and you share a smile.

before you know it your up from his lap and your hands occupy themselves into pulling his sweats down, when you see the sight of his harden self through his pants you glance back up at him only to see him covering his face with his hand.

you pull down his boxers and he springs free his member hitting you against your nose catching you aback, you stare at him for a moment but a moment too long and he peers down at you.

"don't just stare at it." he groans and you smile, you lick the tip of his cock and the pleasing sensation sends a moan to leave his lips. you tease him, your tounge running around the tip where he's most sensitive and he moans.

he grows to desperate and before you know it his hand comes up to your head, he finds a comfort in your hair before he pushes your head down his shaft slowly.

you breathe through your nose as you take in his size before growing used to it and beginning to pump your head slowly down his shaft continuously causing him to groan quietly.

he uses your head to help him reach his high, pumping you slowly down him but also muttering how good you are occasionally. you feel your eyes begin to water slightly but luckily you don't have to much of a gag reflex.

"fuck, you're so good." he groans as he watches you take him, his hand helping to move your hair away from your face, he closes his eyes tightly as he approaches his orgasm.

his moans become shorter and more intense and it's then you can tell that he's about to release any minute. perfect. you pull away from him and he looks down at you confused.

you watch as he glares at you annoyed, "what the fuck was that for?" he asks you but you don't say anything rubbing your mouth clean with the back of your hand.

his eyes don't leave you once, reading nothing but pissed at the interruption of his orgasm, he watches you as you take off your trousers and pants; his cock twitching ever so slightly as it pleads for your attention.

"you think i'd let you cum first?" you ask him and he furrows his brows in complete denial.

you approach him as you kick away your lower clothes that pool around your feet, glaring at him "fuck me then." you tell him, he watches you with his mouth agape never expecting to see you turn into a completely different person.

you lean against the producing equipment waiting for him expectantly, but when you feel his presence behind you and his hands hold your ass you let out a moan.

he slaps your ass, making you gasp at the sudden pain before he rubs your cheek to soothe it. he pulls out a condom from the inside of his pocket and you turn around to glance at him at the sound of it opening.

"you had that on you all along?" you ask him and he grins taking it out before pulling it over his cock.

"knew i'd need it." and with that he pushes himself into you slowly without warning making your mouth agape.

he waits for a moment until he's all the way in you before he starts to move, thrust in and out of you each time causing you to moan.

your bodies are in sync as he fucks you getting turned on by the sight of you bent before him as he fucks you senseless. he gradually becomes more faster and his thrusts become stronger.

"shit." you moan although your words sound all messed up due to the rocking back and forth you experience from his thrusts.

your hands hold onto the bumpy toggles in front of you trying to find something to hold onto as you take each thrust that runs through you. you're floating in ecstasy and it all feels too good.

he moans many things under his breath that you can't pick up on too busy by being engulfed in the intense pleasure you experience as you gradually approach your high.

you feel his hand reach over underneath you, rubbing your sensitive clit whilst he takes you; the feeling of him inside you, but his hand rubbing on your sensitive bud makes it all eventually unbareable.

your moans become louder and more desperate as you feel your high approaching; once again his hand slaps your ass earning another loud gasp from you.

your hair is held up my his hand and it's obvious your makeup is probably fucked up by now, but at this point that doesn't even matter to you anymore. everything just feels too good.

you reach your orgasm and pant vigorously, he notices this and pulls out of you rubbing himself with his hand as he releases himself inside of his condom.

you rest your head on the equipment in front of you as you both catch your breath, it's only then that you feel your legs become to grow all achy and weak.

"shit, my legs." you laugh to yourself as you wobble; he notices this and laughs tying the condom and obviously throwing it into the bin.

"good luck." he jokes and you roll your eyes.

"i need to shower." you complain feeling all sticky as usual after sex, he hums in agreement.

"i'll shower with you." he smiles.

you attempt to push him away but due to your growing weak legs you fail, instead complaining about how sore they are. seems like central cee has won in keeping you quiet.

"so are we gonna work on the track again?"

"probably not for now."

#central cee x y/n #central cee imagines #central cee smut #central cee #cench #central cee x reader #centralcee #centralceeedit #central cee x you #reader x central cee

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gatorbites-imagines · 5 months

Note

Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.

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oneforthemunny · 4 months

Text

have i the right? |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: ever since you started working at turtle's tapes, you and eddie have grown closer and closer until he finally asks you out. it feels like the pieces of your life are finally falling into place, things are going right for once- but things are not always what they seem.

contains: minors dni 18+. dark fic. dark!eddie. yandere!eddie. dark tones of the fic. stalking, obsession, breaking and entering, mentions of past violence, mentions of past trauma and relationships. masturbation.

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you walked in. Eddie didn’t know what divine intervention had stepped in, decided to shine down on him and bring you into Turtle’s Tapes, a resume in hand, asking for Mel.

You had been so jittery, fingers drumming on the strap of your leather shoulder bag. Red nails, freshly painted, Eddie could tell by the smudges around the edges you hadn’t bothered to clean up. He didn’t point it out, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Tongue too thick, breath caught and suffocating in his throat, wrapped around the words he wasn’t even sure he’d form yet.

He managed to point you to the back office, croak out the words he couldn’t even remember, hoping his cheeks didn’t reveal the flush of heat thrumming through his body when you smiled at him, waving when you walked away.

“You’re working again?”

A giggly voice had Eddie turning, spine straightening, shoulders rolling back when he turned from the stack of records he was sorting.

You had your hair up today, pulled back so he could see your face fully, more features for him to memorize.

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, chin ducking to his chest, a waterfall of curls hiding the pink of his cheeks. “Brenda called out of another shift.” The eye roll he added made you giggle.

“Again? Why do they even keep her around?” You muttered, grabbing a stack of records out of the shipment box, handing the top one- Out of Time- over to Eddie. Your nails were starting to chip now, around the edges, flaked red polish.

“Well, she-she’s not bad. Pretty good on the register.” Eddie grabbed the record, sucking in a breath to calm the excited tremble in his hands.

“Right.” You frowned, lips puckering out the way they did when you were thinking. Eddie noticed it on your first day of training, when he was explaining how to stack the eight tracks, an adorable tick he found himself thinking about at night, staring at his ceiling replaying every word you’d said.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be bitchy.” You shook your head lightly. “I was- I mean, you’re always taking her shifts. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no,” Eddie’s grip tightened on the record, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his touch. “I know you weren’t.”

Stupid, stupid, Eddie cursed himself, watching your face fall. The bell trilled, pulling your attention to greet the customer with a cheery tone. You were still new, still eager to impress and help, not weathered and worn from customer service like Eddie. He was thankful for it, truthfully.

Eddie liked watching you work, liked watching you in general. When he could cut his eyes, stare shamelessly like he used to in freshman year algebra, watching Stacy Simmons from the back corner of the class.

You were better than Stacy Simmons. Prettier. Definitely nicer. Stacy never even looked at Eddie, he wasn’t even sure she knew he existed, even when he sent her the candy-gram on Valentine’s Day.

He wondered what kind of candy you liked, what it would have been like to go to high school with you. If you would have acknowledged him, maybe even been friends with him? Gone to prom, wore a corsage he pinned on with his Judas Priest button.

“Were you a cheerleader in high school?” Eddie asked when you finally migrated back over to him, stocking on the other side of the stacks.

“What?” Your nose crinkled lightly, lips curling in a tiny smile. “A cheerleader?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s heart hammered, chest burning with regret, embarrassment. What a stupid fuckin’ question, Munson, why would you ask that?

“No.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Do I look like I was a cheerleader?” You snorted lightly, brow raising playfully.

Eddie wanted to tell you, you looked like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than a cheerleader, than an angel.

Instead, he thumbed through the stacks, pretending to look for a record, a desperate attempt to play it cool. “Kinda.” He shrugged. “Not in a bad way, you’re just… you get really peppy when you’re helping people.”

“Peppy?” You laughed.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked. “I mean, your voice raises.”

“Wow.” You shook your head, lips rolling, biting back a smirk. “I didn’t even realize I did that. I guess I do.”

Eddie’s stomach turned, a violent, sharp jab when your smile dropped slightly. Munson, don’t ever speak again. What the fuck is wrong with you today? Get it together.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Eddie shook his head, sweaty palms gripping the stack of records. “You’re- The customers really like you.”

“Thanks.” You muttered. There was that silence, filling the space between you. Eddie loathed it, feared it, terrified that it would linger forever, that he might never hear the sound of your voice again because he drove you away.

“Do you close tonight?” You hummed, shuffling down to the next stack. Head still tilted down but eyes lifted to look at Eddie, lines creasing on your forehead that he’d never seen before. A new angle of you for him to preoccupy his thoughts with, play in his fantasies.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat, thumb twisting the ring around his middle finger. His stack was gone, finished, but he wouldn’t dare leave to get another. Not while you were talking, while he was in your attention.

Instead, he pretended to organize the names, shuffling the stacks. “Just us tonight.” His lips curled, dimples deep in a grin.

You smiled back, soft but bright, enough to make his heart flutter and take flight. “Fun.” You shrug sweetly. “That means we can change the music, right? I don’t think I can listen to Amy Grant on a loop again.”

“Yeah, definitely. As soon as Mel leaves we can.” Eddie swore he was in love, hoping you couldn’t see the blush in his cheeks. Every second he spent with you, time built his feelings, made them grow stronger and stronger.

“Play something actually good.” Eddie smiled. He’d been shuffling the same records back and forth, fiddling between his hands.

“I’m sure you will. You have great taste.” The compliment was so natural, so easy coming from you. Still, it made Eddie blister and burn at the praise, so sure his heart might swell and tear through his ribcage, splatter all over the aisles and on your t-shirt.

“The customers really like you too. Always come in and ask for your recommendations.” You added, filing in the last of your record stack.

“Yeah? Thanks, I mean,” Eddie took a breath, swallowing down a stutter, jumbling of words. “Thanks. Just trying to keep the kids cool, y’know? This grunge shit.” Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I know you’re a fan. Nirvana’s not that bad.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him, an empty box cradled on your hip. “So I guess I can’t convince you to spin Nevermind tonight?” You batted your eyes at him sweetly, lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie’s knees tightened.

As soon as Mel left, Eddie was tearing open the album, shoving Heart in Motion back in its slip with far less care than he should have. Mel would bitch him out, bitch him for opening and playing a non-approved album on the store’s system. Eddie didn’t care, he’d buy the album in secret, give it to you maybe. Slip it in your locker with a note.

If your smile was anything like what you gave him when the opening chords to Smells Like Teen Spirit played through the speakers, he’d buy you a million of those fucking albums.

The hours were slow for a Thursday, especially with the new releases. Not that Eddie minded, he’d never complain about a lack of asshole highschool kids, demanding for cassettes and tapes.

“I think it’s because of the rain.” You tilted your head back, looking out the front window, painted and splattered with rain drops.

Eddie was convinced you could read his mind, sure you might be his soul mate, made just for him. “Yeah, I think so.” He nodded, wiping off the counter with a sudsy rag.

You sighed, heavy, pushing past your lips, puckering them in a perfect pout. Eddie’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, the soapy warm water seeping through his fingers.

“I was hoping it would hold over until I got off.” You admitted, shoulder’s falling, dragging the broom lazily around your dust piles. “I forgot an umbrella or a rain jacket.”

Eddie paused, a second longer than he should have, your attention moved to him. “You- Sorry, you walked?” Eddie shook his head lightly, curls bobbing, brushing against his cheeks.

“Yeah,” You muttered, looking down at the broom, pushing the piles of dirt around. “My car’s in the shop. They said it would be ready a week ago.”

Eddie’s fingers curled around the rag, water piling and pooling in the spot in front of him. He’d find where your car was, make them fix it, fix it himself if he had to.

Still, your rainy predicament gave him an opportunity he’d been looking for. Plotting and mulling over for the past twelve days.

“I can give you a ride.” Eddie shrugged, dragging the rag, stained with dirt from the years of use, over the glass, prismatic streaks on the glass from the cleaner.

“No,” You shook your head politely, sweeping the dirt pile into the dustpan. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s fine, honestly, I live really close-”

“-C’mon.” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s pouring and it’s dark. Shouldn’t walk alone at night, anyways. Lots of weirdos out.”

Your own heart skipped at his tone, thrilling and thrumming with excitement. “I mean, if it’s not a problem.” You hesitated. “I can give you some gas money-”

“-No, don’t.” Eddie said firmly, plopping the rag back in the bucket of water. “It’s not a problem, seriously. I don’t mind.”

Your lips curled, a shy smile. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I really appreciate it, Eddie.”

“It’s not a problem.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, you’re not wearing the right shoes.” He nodded towards your white Keds, cloth on top, stained with dirt from your walk here. “Can’t let them get ruined.”

“They’re already ruined. Really dirty, I need to clean them.” You smirked, toes wiggling in your sneakers. “But thank you.”

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Eddie shrugged, trailing you when you crossed the store, bending over to brush up another pile of dirt. Your shirt rode up, jeans lowering just enough for Eddie’s breath to still entirely. The strings of your panties, high cut, a lavender shade peeking over the band of your denim, that had Eddie’s head spinning.

His face flushed, blood rushing straight to his crotch, shamelessly. A still soapy hand adjusted himself, turning so you wouldn’t see. Wouldn’t see how easily he was flustered, attracted to you. The last thing he needed to do was scare you off, fuck this all up again.

Like with Chrissy.

Eddie winced, teeth clenching at his own thoughts. No, he wouldn’t think about her. You weren’t anything like her. How dare he insult you like that, comparing you so lowly to her.

His eyes cut back to you, hips swaying while you swept to the beat of Lithium, head bobbing to the clash of the drums.

No, he knew better this time. He’d be more careful. He wouldn’t mess this up.

Eddie gave you his keys to the store, let you lock up while he took the trash, sprinting to his van. He shoved the cigarette buds in the plastic trash bag, smushing down the brown, grease soaked fast-food paper bags he’d carelessly tossed in his passenger side. He would’ve had his car detailed if he would have known he’d be giving you a ride.

“Ed?” Your voice carried around the corner.

“Back here!” Eddie called, jamming his keys into the van’s ignition, the engine sputtering to life before evening out into a steady roar. One leg out, Eddie stopped, sucking in a breath. He swiped the yellow scrunchie off his gear shift, shoving it in his pocket just as you turned the corner.

Eddie smiled, walking to the dumpster, flinging the bag in. “Sorry, just wanted to get the car started. It takes a while for it to warm up.”

He held the door open for you, bowing dramatically when you slipped in. You giggled at his antics, and his heart soared, fluttered with pride. Eddie slipped into the driver’s side, eyes scanning the console and back of the van nonchalantly when he backed out, making sure he hadn’t left anything lying about.

He was more careful after what happened before. More aware, double checking his steps, but the scrunchie had him on edge. It was close, too close for his comfort.

“Seriously, thank you.” You looked over at Eddie, the glow of the street lights cast a nearly angelic, golden luster over your features. “Saved me from getting sick.” You nodded towards the window, Eddie’s wipers creaking with every swipe over the glass.

“Can’t have that now.” Eddie smirked, looking over at you, throwing his blinker on. “Have to take your shifts too. Then I’ll really be overworked.”

You laughed, looking out the window, smile falling as Eddie cruised down the familiar street.

“But seriously, if you ever need me to take a shift for you, I don’t care to.” Eddie shrugged, eyes cutting over to yours. He didn’t see the way you’d stilled, hands wringing in your lap, spine rigid. “I was just kidding.”

You stayed silent, heart hammering, inching further and further up your throat. Eddie frowned, looking over at you. “You alright?”

Your wide eyed gaze met his, scared, startled. He saw flashes of Chrissy before him, merging into his vision. “What?” Eddie cringed. He didn’t mean to sound so fierce. “Are you alright?”

“How do you know where I live?” You asked, blinking at Eddie, eyes rounded. Your eyes cut to the road ahead, Eddie inching closer to your apartment complex.

His heart stopped, a pause that lingered a little bit longer than he meant it to. “You told me.” He blurted, a white knuckled grip on the wheel, turning back towards the road. “When you started, you told me you lived at Magnolia Place. My friend Jeff lives over there, remember?”

You had mentioned it, not to him, to Lindy. Eddie had overheard it, when he was lingering around, watching you from behind cassette stacks. You frowned, but your grip loosened, relaxing. Eddie held his breath, switching his hand casually, freeing his right hand- just in case.

“Oh,” You chirped, flushing with embarrassment, chin tucking towards your chest. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot about that.” You shook your head.

“It’s alright.” Eddie shrugged casually, his fingers loosening around the wheel.

“No, that was weird of me.” You shook your head, hands rubbing down your face. “I watch too much Dateline.” You laugh softly. “It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Eddie smirked. “Do I give off those creeper vibes?” His eyes cut to yours, longer than they should have, reading your reaction. “Bundy vibes or something?”

“No,” Your laugh made him relax, exhaling slowly. “I’m just- I don’t know. I need medicated. I get, like, super worried about things sometimes.” You looked down at your nails, picking at the chipping polish.

“No, that’s a good thing. Better to be careful.” Eddie nodded, turning into the apartment complex. “Ok, now I do need you to tell me which one. Left or right?”

“I’m in the very back right.” You pointed through the rainy window, drizzle still steady.

Eddie turned the wheel with his palm, slowing the van to a cruise through the parking lot. “Where does your friend live?”

“Hm?” Eddie hummed, brow furrowed, looking over at you.

“Your friend?” You pressed lightly. “You said he lives over here? Where, if you don’t mind me asking? I just… it would be nice to know someone just in case.”

Eddie craned his head, heart thrumming in his chest rapidly. “He lives right there.” Eddie pointed, finger pressed to the window. “On the left side.”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward, close enough that Eddie could smell your perfume. His head spinning, stilling entirely, scared to move and have you inch away.

“But if you ever need anything,” Eddie followed your muttering of directions. “You can just call me. I don’t live too far.”

“That’s sweet,” You smiled softly, turning so you were inches away from Eddie’s face. He hoped you couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“You’re not.” Eddie shook his head. “I promise. I’ll let you know if you bother me.”

“Yeah?” You laughed, Eddie could feel your breath on his curls.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded, sliding into a parking space easily. “You’ll know.”

You smiled, and for a moment, Eddie contemplated leaning forward, grabbing your face with his hands and kissing you. You moved before he could, unfastening your seat belt instead. Eddie tried to hide his huff of disappointment.

Too slow, Munson, you’re always too fucking slow.

“Well, thank you, again.” You reached for your purse, slipping your arm through the leather strap. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time.” Eddie’s fingers drummed on his denim clad thigh, desperately racking his brain for anything, anything to get you to stay. Even just for a second longer.

“Enjoy your day off.” You smiled, the streetlights above you catching in your eyes. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks.” Eddie gave a tight lipped smile, heart jumping when your fingers cradled around the door handle. “Wait-” Eddie’s voice was sharper than he meant, your head whipping around towards him.

“Sorry,” Eddie blushed. “I just- You don’t close tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, foot shaking by the brakes, the rumble of the engine vibrating the soles of his shoes.

“No, I’m an opener. I get off that four.” You smiled proudly.

“Oh, well, I was thinking if, um,” Get it the fuck together, Munson. “If you’re not busy tomorrow after work, I- we could go to The Hideout?”

You blinked. “I mean, I know we talked about it, and you said you’d never been. I’m not playing tomorrow, but I-I know the band that is. We could go and listen to the music, or just go and hang out. It’s really fun, really chill.” Eddie rambled. Chill? Who says chill?

“If you want to.” Eddie blurted before you could reply. “I-I know you probably have plans, or something better to do-”

“-No,” You shook your head, a smile spreading over your features, beaming as bright as the streetlamp about the two of you. “I mean, yes I want to go. No, I’m not busy.” You gave him a small, breathy laugh.

“That sounds like fun.” Eddie was convinced it was a dream, the entire interaction. You in his van, agreeing to go out with him. His luck was finally changing, falling into place.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes were bright. “Yeah, I-I mean it will be. I promise.” His foot still shook. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Yeah, that-that would be nice.” You beamed, heart fluttering with butterflies, tingling with excitement.

“I can get you at seven? We can get there kinda early and get a good seat by the front if you want.” Eddie couldn’t help his smile, couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to.

“Sounds good.” You smiled. There was a pause, and you weren’t sure why, what came over you when you leaned forward, lips pressing in a soft peck to Eddie’s cheek, soft over the crease of his dimples.

Eddie flushed, body burning, flaming with heat, he knew he wasn’t hiding. You grinned, a small giggle, bubbly like the two of you were in junior high, kissing behind the bleachers.

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned, opening the door. Eddie nodded, eyes still wide, lovesick or maybe lovestruck- he couldn’t decide.

“Thank you again!” You squeaked, shutting the door, scampering to your door. You turned, waving at him before pushing the door open, slipping inside.

Eddie sat, in a daze, head foggy, blinded with a rush of emotions. He could feel your lips on his cheek, a light tingling imprinted onto his skin.

He’d nearly ruined it, fucked it all up before it even began. He wouldn’t let that happen, couldn’t be careless like before.

Eddie pulled out of the parking spot, the light from your bedroom catching his eye in the rearview as it flickered on, blinds wide open. For someone who watches so much Dateline, you should know better.

Eddie’s stomach turned, foot pressing into the gas, halting in front of another complex. Eddie turned, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see you. Maybe you hadn’t left it open. His mind swam, flooded with fear. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened.

Just a quick check. Make sure she’s alright, and then leave. It won’t be like last time.

Eddie let the van roll to a stop, cutting the headlights before killing the ignition. A steady stream of rain drummed on the roof of the van, melodic and calming. Eddie reached in his pocket, holding your yellow scrunchie. The thing that had nearly blown his whole plan. He swiped it from your locker four days ago, held it close to his nose that night, hand wrapped around his shaft, eyes fluttering closed, breathing in your scent and imagining what it would be like if you were there instead.

Eddie closed his fist around the silk, tucking it back in his pocket, reaching for his leather jacket, thrown over the back seat. An old Yankees cap, navy and worn in the floor of the van’s trunk. Eddie slipped the cap over his curls, pulling the brim low, zipping his jacket up.

Hands in his pocket, Eddie scanned around him. Nobody out to see him, catch him like last time and stop him. He wouldn’t let them even if they tried. Not this time.

The rain beat off Eddie’s shoulders, repelling off the leather of his jacket, wetting the ends of his curls. A final look over his shoulder, and Eddie was slinking back towards the wet brick of the opposite unit. Shuffled side steps, creeping closer and closer into the dark, angling himself to see your window.

He stilled, pressed fully to the brick, when your figure fluttered out of the corner of the window. Eddie watched the steam roll, following you out of the bathroom in a cloud, a towel wrapped around you, another in your hair. Toothbrush lazily scrubbing inside your mouth, flicking on the TV in your room.

She’s safe, now leave. Leave. Eddie’s mind screamed, but his feet were cemented in place. Hidden in the dark shadows, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, the light luring him though he stayed still.

You disappeared, Eddie watched you in the large mirror above your vanity.

Now, go now. Before she sees you. She’s going to see you.

The pounding in Eddie’s ears roared over the falling rain, deafening. Still, he stayed. Frozen in fear, maybe instinct.

When you returned, dropping your towel, kicking it to the corner of the room, Eddie was glad he stayed. Eyes wide, willing himself not to blink. He didn’t want to miss a second, not a single one. Your bare figure, better than his own imagination could curate. Soft edges and curves that Eddie couldn’t wait to feel. How jealous he was of your hands, smoothing the Avon body lotion over your shins, up your thighs.

What he would do to be the one doing that instead, his mind fading, slipping into his imagination. Inside your bedroom, instead of out, pressing soft kisses to your freshly lotioned shoulders, nose trailing along your soft skin. He wondered how you’d feel in his arms, letting yourself relax in his touch.

Eddie’s fantasies were halted when you moved to the vanity, snapping back to his cruel reality, a jolt of icy cold fear dumped into his veins. He could see himself in your mirror, the very corner. You bent down, picking up your comb and he took his chance, stepping back, hidden from your gaze, only a sliver of you to be seen, when you’d tilt your head a certain way to blow dry your hair.

Eddie stood, cold puffs of air clouding around his nose, clutching the switchblade in his jacket pocket every time he heard the smallest rustle. Ready to attack, to do anything he could to keep from being caught. He couldn’t ruin this, lose you before he ever truly got you. He was so close, so close.

Your light didn’t turn off, the same warm glow spilled out from your window, rain beating against the glass. Eddie’s feet ached, heart rate stroke level high. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie muttered, carefully stepping back towards the window.

You were no longer at the vanity, instead on your stomach, painting your nails at the end of the bed. Not red, from what Eddie could see- black. His lips curled. He liked to think you were doing this for him, for tomorrow, to match his dark and moody attire.

Eddie army crawled under your window, holding his breath when he passed under your window sill. He could hear the muffled sound of the TV- Dateline. You really should know better. Eddie would make sure to tell you that when he finally got inside, make sure to put in blinds and curtains for you.

His jaw flexed at the thought of someone trying to hurt you, someone else watching you. Watching you to harm you, not keep you safe like Eddie. The thought nearly had him staying in his van, parking closer and keeping watch through the night. He decided against it, the risk of nodding off and you seeing him there stronger than his want to stay.

Instead, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot, watching your window in the rearview mirror of his van as he drove away.

“Morning.” You sang, a skip in your step that you couldn’t hide, punching your card with glee, putting it in the assigned pocket.

“Good mornin’ to you, Sunshine.” Brenda grinned, brows raised at your cheery demeanor, running the price gun over the new cassettes. “What’s got you so happy on a Friday morning?” She snorted lightly.

“Mm, nothing.” You hummed, twisting the metal lock around. You were getting better at it, thanks to Eddie. He’d helped you the first few times. Tricky things, he’d told you with a half smile.

“Nothing?” Brenda sang, a playful mocking tone that had you blistering in heat. “You’re just that excited to stock tapes all day? That’s it?”

“Yeah.” You snorted lightly, pulling the lock open, wrangling it out of the metal hold of your locker. “No, I…” You spun the lock in your hand. “I’m going on a date tonight.”

“Oh?” Brenda’s brows raised.

You nodded. “Yeah. With, uh, with Eddie, actually.” Your heart fluttering in your chest, bubbly and excited.

“Oh, really?” Brenda laughed, putting her hands on her hip, pricing gun still in head. “Well, that makes more sense then.”

You frowned. “What?”

Brenda shook her head, kicking the box lightly with her foot. “That boy,” She snorted lightly. “He called my phone night before last, all crazy, I thought he’s been hurt or somethin’. Askin’ me to switch shifts with him last night.”

You paused, stilling. “H-He did?” You squeaked, hand closing around the lock tightly.

“Yeah,” Brenda smiled. “I mean, I was a little confused why he’d want to work a closing over an open, ‘specially with all the shifts he’s been picking up. But I thought, hey, none of my business. Maybe he needs the money.” She held her hands up playfully. “This makes me feel better, though.”

You twisted the lock nervously in your hands. “It does?”

“Yeah.” Brenda looked at you. “He just likes you. Wanted to take you out. Probably scared I’d tell you or somethin’, you know how he is.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “He gets a little paranoid about things. Dramatic, that one.”

Your stomach turned, sharp and twisting. “But-But Eddie, he wouldn’t, like, he’s a good guy?” You asked. “I mean, he seems like a good guy, but you-you know him better than I do.”

“I’ve known Ed since he was a little boy.” Brenda waved you off, her flippant tone made you feel better somehow. “I used to date his uncle, actually. Wayne started taking care of Eddie when we were together. He was wild, I’ll tell ya. But the sweetest kid. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Right.” You nodded, swallowing down your nerves. “Right, I- I’m just not from here, ya know? I get kinda…” You waved your hands, slinging your purse in your locker. “I also get paranoid.”

“A good match then.” Brenda grinned. “You’ll have fun with him. If he doesn’t treat you right, you let me know. I’ll tell his uncle and he’ll handle him, alright?” Her eyes shone in a playful way, comforting. Soothing your nerves with a warm smile.

You were anxious, and why wouldn’t you be? You hadn’t been out on a date since you moved to Hawkins.

Since you left your hometown.

Since you left him.

You swallowed, shaking it from your mind. You wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, wouldn’t let your mind consume itself. Eddie’s locker was just above yours, a plethora of stickers- Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, and so many more all collaged together. Some peeling, overlapping and covering the others. Right in the middle, a bright, smiley face sticker. You’d given it to him last week, the grocer at Melvald’s snuck one in your bag.

“I brought it for your sticker collection.” You had grinned at Eddie, waving the yellow sticker around playfully. You hadn’t expected him to put it right in the middle of his collaged locker.

It was sweet. A simple, sweet, silly gesture that had you giggly and blushy for the rest of your shift.

You pinned your badge to the inside of your shirt, letting the metal back snap into your soft cotton, pushing out the back doors and towards the register, letting your mind drift into daydreams about tonight. About Eddie, while you straightened the tapes on the front table.

A ringed hand gripping the plastic cup, warm from the coffee inside, Eddie sipped slowly, eyes trained on the corner. He waited, parked and hidden behind the row of bushes in front of McDonald’s, hoping it would camouflage his van enough.

His breath hitched, strangling the liquid in his throat when a figure rounded the corner. Your hair was down today, freshly styled, and you had gone without your white Keds. Eddie’s heart bubbled, fluttered to life with a soaring warmth. Your nails were painted black, he could see it as you got closer on the sidewalk, shrinking in his seat, peering just over the steering wheel to track you until you got to the store.

When you slipped into the door, safely inside Turtle’s, Eddie geared into reverse. Van rolling steady back towards Magnolia Place.

“It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Your voice rang in his head, a rhythmic melody that lured him into a trance, tunnel visioned all the way back to your apartment doorstep. The flathead screwdriver and allen wrench heavy in his pocket, clammy palms wrapped around them.

As much as he hated his father, cursed and blamed him for the way he was, every hardship he’d endured, he did have to thank him for making him resilient. Al had passed on more than just his wild curls to Eddie. He’d given him his resourcefulness, taught him. Eddie thanked Al, wherever he was, when the door clicked open.

Your apartment smells exactly like how he thought, looked exactly how he imagined. A hodgepodge of second hand furniture, throw pillows and blankets neatly folded and placed on the patterned couch. Your shoes kicked in a pile by the door, your white Keds amongst them.

Eddie crouched down, cradling the shoe in his hand. The small speck of dirt splattered on the sides from your walk to work yesterday, an imprint of your foot molded into the sole.

Eddie let himself wander around the small space- your space. He hoped he’d be back tonight, invited in this time, but in case he didn’t, he just needed a look. To see the full thing, to see how you lived, feel closer to you any way he can. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know everything about you, every single thing.

Your perfume taunted him from the vanity, clouded his mind the very same way it did when he smelled it on you, catching whiffs when you’d walk past. Eddie drenched the edge of his band tee, saturated it in your perfume. For later, when his mind would wander back to you, when he’d miss you, when he’d long to smell you.

Stacks of photos lined the vanity, a man and woman donning similar features to your own. Even when you were younger, you always had the same smile, bright and warm. Your towel still kicked in the corner of the room from the night before, bed sheets crumpled from sleep. Eddie’s hand slid across the crinkled cotton, he hoped they’d still be warm.

Next to your sink, a bottle of purple acetone, red soaked cotton pads in the trash. A small tray of nail polishes next to that, pushed into the corner, every color imaginable- including the red. The same red you wore when Eddie met you. That you kept painting over for the following days until you finally gave up, let it chip away.

His mind screamed, roared at him not to. That you would know.

I’ll give it back. I’ll give it back when she invites me over. She’ll never know.

Eddie plucked the Revlon bottle out of the group, pushing the others back into place, pocketing it.

Ok, that’s enough. Enough. You’re gonna get caught. It’s going to be Chrissy- No, no, don’t fucking even compare her to that sick-

Eddie’s mind spiraled, pulling deeper and deeper into himself, a white knuckled grip on the counter, eyes crossing in a hazy daze, foggy and distorted. A familiar buzz ringing through his ears, a roar of static, heart hammering so fast he was sure it wasn’t beating at all. Flashes of memories he’d tried to forget, beat his head against a wall and knock them out, unforgiving and rapid.

A sliver of purple peeking out of your wickered hamper halted those hauntings just as quickly as they’d begun. Carelessly thrown on top, Eddie’s vision honing in through the mirror. The same lavender thong that had teased him the night before, consumed his thoughts later that night, hand pumping his cock, free hand holding your scrunchie to his nose, eyes screwed shut picturing- wishing it was you instead.

I’ll bring it back. With the nail polish, she’ll never know.

Eddie was nearly in a trance like state, swiping the panties off the top of the towels, shoving them in his pocket. He couldn’t- not here. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

Instead, Eddie waited until he was back home, in the sanctuary of his trailer. Pulling the old, metal lunchbox off the top shelf of his closet, he sunk into the mattress. A treasure chest, filled with all his favorite things. All his memories of you.

The scrunchie, a note you’d written him about an order signed with a heart before your name, your application he’d swiped off Mel’s desk after you got the job. It was small, smaller than Eddie would have liked but it was safer this way. The nail polish he tucked away, but the panties he kept out.

Reaching for the Jergens by his bed, Eddie freed his length from his boxers, settling back against the headboard. Tail of his shirt tucked by his chin, the overwhelming scent of your perfume wafting up to him, dizzying his senses. Eddie sighed, free hand tugging at his shaft, relaxing into the pillows.

He could see you, a fantasy that challenged his perception of reality, riding him soft and slow. Would you like it like that? Harder? Rougher? Sweeter? Him on top? Eddie’s mind flurried with worry, what if’s, pleasure simmering out slowly.

Eddie blinked, a heavy lidded gaze landing on the panties in his hand. You flooded back to his mind, picturing you in your little panties, shy and bare before him. He swallowed down a groan, pushing the crotch of your panties to his nose. A pungent, spicy scent, swarming with something so intoxicating. Eddie whimpered, pushing the lavender panties further under his nose, suffocating himself nearly, but he didn’t mind.

He hoped to have you in a different way, to experience you authentically later tonight. Even just to kiss you again, feel you again, his body ached for it. But for now, Eddie would suffice having you this way, his own little secret, a dark and twisted fantasy just for him.

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 4 months

Text

own my mind - san (m)

summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?

word count: 10.6k

warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.

masterlist

"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."

you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.

you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.

are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.

"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"

"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."

"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."

"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.

"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."

"whatever."

"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.

"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."

"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."

"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.

"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.

"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."

"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."

"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."

"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."

"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."

"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"

"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.

"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."

"how often will i be working with you?"

"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."

"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"

you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?

if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"

"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.

"at least let me-"

"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?

"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."

"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"

"sure."

"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.

"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."

"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"i said i was sorry-"

"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."

"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"

"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.

"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.

"is he what?!" she shouts back.

"an asshole!"

"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"

"are we talking about the same guy?"

"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."

"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."

"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.

"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."

"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."

"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."

"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"

"san?"

"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."

"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"

"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"

"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.

"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"

"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."

"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."

"i'm not listening to you anymore."

"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?

the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.

"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."

"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."

"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"

"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."

"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.

"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"

you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.

"that was it," you nod. "great job."

"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"

"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"

"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."

"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"

"right," you agree, just a little dejected.

"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"

"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"

"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."

"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"

"no, i needed the insight-"

"because i value your opinion-"

"i know that-"

"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.

"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"

"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"

"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"

"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."

"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.

"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"

"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."

"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.

"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.

"i thought i said to record that one?"

"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.

"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."

"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."

"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.

"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.

"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"

"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"

"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.

you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"

"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.

"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.

"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."

"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."

"there's sides?" you ask nervously.

"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."

"she is lovely," jen points out.

"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."

"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"

"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."

"is the reason because he's maleficent?"

"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"

"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.

"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.

"don't worry, he does that sometimes."

"to everybody?!"

"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.

"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."

"nuh uh."

"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"

"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.

"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"

"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.

"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"

"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"

"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"

"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.

"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.

"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."

"great, thanks..."

you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.

you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.

"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.

"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."

"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.

"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"

"i don't know, can you?"

"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"

you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.

"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."

"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.

"what?"

"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."

"what are you doing in my studio, san."

"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-

"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."

"get what?"

"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.

"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.

"not really," he shakes his head.

"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.

"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.

"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"

"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."

"nor are you."

"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"

"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"

"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.

"i don't believe you."

"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"

"no-"

"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."

and with that very confusing information, san walks away.

san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.

he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...

san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.

you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.

"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."

"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."

"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.

"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."

"what? no-"

"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."

"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-

"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."

"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."

"hi san."

"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.

"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."

"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."

"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.

"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.

"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."

"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.

"yeah, come closer and let me show you."

"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."

"what?"

"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"

"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.

"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"

"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.

"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."

"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.

"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"

"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."

"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.

when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.

later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.

"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."

"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."

"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."

"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"

you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.

"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."

"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.

"my friend and i are not done talking."

"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.

"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."

"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.

"life's cruel like that, huh?"

"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"

"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.

"oh yeah? let's tell him-"

"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."

"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."

"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."

"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.

"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.

"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.

"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."

"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.

"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.

"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.

"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.

"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."

"sorry," san grumbles.

"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"

"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.

"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."

"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.

the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.

it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.

you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.

heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?

you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.

san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.

you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-

"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"

"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.

"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.

"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.

"i just said that to piss you off."

"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.

"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"

"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.

"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."

"what?" you breathe out.

"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."

"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."

"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.

"you're shit at showing how you feel."

"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."

"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."

"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."

"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.

"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"

"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.

"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"

"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"

"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."

"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"

"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."

"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.

"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.

"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"

"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."

"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."

"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.

"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."

"you're kidding."

"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."

"san, i-"

"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."

"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."

he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."

"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.

"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.

"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.

"i will. when i want to."

"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.

"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."

"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."

"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."

"who?"

"san, fuck! feels so good."

"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"

"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.

"say it louder."

"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."

"hm?"

"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."

"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"

"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.

"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.

"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"

"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."

"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.

"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.

"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.

"your turn to what, baby?"

"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"

"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."

"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"

"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."

"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."

"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."

"eh, i'm getting tired-"

"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."

"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.

"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."

"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.

too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.

"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"

"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."

"fuck, you're insane."

"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"

"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."

"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."

"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.

"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"

"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"

"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"

"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."

"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"

"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."

"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"

"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.

"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.

"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."

"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"

"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.

"i mean, if you want-"

"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."

"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.

"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"

#san #ateez #choi san #ateez smut #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #san x reader #san fic #san smut #san one shot #san imagine #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san imagine #choi san one shot

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kvtie444 · 5 months

Text

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

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#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

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comicaurora · 5 months

Note

How would you as the writer say each of the main six characters fits into which major characteristics of the five man band?

I'd say they don't, but it is fun to lay out the arguments for each of them filling every role.

Kendal:

The Leader; he's the one who got everyone together and he carries the most authority, literally speaking for a deity and doing most of the real negotiations with the powerful forces they deal with.

The Lancer; he's a foil to nearly everybody else in the group, and despite his quiet and gentle tone, has the worst track record of going off by himself and getting into trouble.

The Big Guy; he's got the most metaphysical oomph with the widest applications, and he hits the hardest out of anyone when he decides to start hitting. Gets taken out of commission early to avoid this outcome.

The Smart Guy; with the accumulated knowledge of centuries' worth of lifetimes and the remembered experience of a god, he has access to a wellspring of knowledge with an ease that nobody else can match.

The Heart; he's the one who keeps drawing people into the group, and he cares so, so deeply about their well-being.

Alinua:

The Leader; when the others argue or fret, she's the one who actually makes decisions.

The Lancer; she's learned a lot of hard lessons and sees Kendal making mistakes she's already learned from, and that tension brings them into conflict even though they care deeply about each other.

The Big Guy; direct conduit to a force beyond any god, when something really big needs breaking it's up to her and nobody else.

The Smart Guy; literally cannot stop overthinking, has an intuitive understanding of something deeply arcane to everyone else.

The Heart; motivated by deep compassion at the core of her being, even when it's tactically unwise or she thinks it'll make her explode.

Erin:

The Leader; he is absolutely certain that he is the leader of the group.

The Lancer; proud and self-confident, immediately sure that he knows what's going on better than anyone else, he's a foil to both Kendal and Alinua who are very aware of their limits. This also means Erin gets himself into trouble so, so often, and is continually surprised when the others bail him out.

The Big Guy: The most diverse range of magical firepower plus a superpowered evil side for spice. Erin is a mighty glacier and a glass cannon at the same time.

The Smart Guy; he is absolutely certain he is the smart guy of the group. The most book-smart, certainly, and fundamentally driven by a deep and profound curiosity to understand the world.

The Heart; he'd never say or believe as much, but his greatest frustration with himself is that he wants to be coldly logical and brilliant and instead he's driven by a pesky moral compass that demands he sacrifice his goals and convenience for the people he loves.

Falst:

The Leader; he'd never believe so, but he's very good at taking charge in a crisis, and the decisions he makes generally work out well for everyone. He's also very good at thinking tactically in terms of everyone's abilities and how they factor into the group. Also, probably the most explicitly loyal member of the group.

The Lancer; almost the platonic ideal of Lancer Energy. Angry and snarky and happy to second-guess everyone around him.

The Big Guy; in a Wolverine sort of way, it's less how hard he hits and more how hard he can get hit before he goes down for good. This is the only role he thinks he's good for.

The Smart Guy; aside from a lot of street smarts, he's a deeply curious and puzzle-solving type, and Erin has been deeply impressed with him since he robbed him for the purposes of homebrewing a backyard enchantment. It's all tactical.

The Heart; deeply, painfully loyal to his friends due to a raw, open wound of loneliness. Will hold the group together if he has to dig in his claws to do it.

Dainix:

The Leader; the only person in the group who actually has experience leading a troupe of fighters and knows how to look out for a group as a whole rather than a handful of loners.

The Lancer; the role he thinks the fills, in the "second in command good at taking orders" sort of way.

The Big Guy; has a literal hulk mode

The Smart Guy; the "has way too many weapons and knows how to use all of them" variety. His expertise is in taking down things much bigger and scarier than he is, and you can't do that without being tactical.

The Heart; deeply empathic and extremely in tune with how the people around him are feeling, and the only member of the group with both the emotional intelligence and the sharpness to cut through various teammate's emotional defenses and actually get them to open up. Not too polite to leave other people's issues alone.

Tess:

The Leader; no way in hell. The only role she categorically denies. Tess's beating heart is wanderlust and that doesn't mesh with a group of any kind.

The Lancer; yes please. She'll do her own thing first and foremost, and when it intersects with other people, she'll help out as she sees best.

The Big Guy; a literal lightning bruiser who resolves every problem by finding a way to punch it.

The Smart Guy; a subtler instance because she's fairly inattentive to anything outside her very narrow range of focus, but when it comes to her areas of expertise, she puts things together faster than anyone else. The first to realize what was going on with Tynan, the first to understand Dainix, the first to track down Erin.

The Heart; not particularly observant, but when she's confronted with someone she recognizes to be in deep distress, she'll open her heart and "home" to them without hesitation. Also, makes friends ridiculously easily.

#asks #aurora #writing stuff

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chosok-amo · 4 months

Text

DADDY'S CAR: NANAMI KENTO

he was in his mid thirties when he became your stepfather while you were in your mid twenties— he's marrying your mother who's a few years older than him. one day you decided to steal his car for a while until he finds you and that's the start of your life becoming more interesting.

warning content: non-sorcerer nanami!, public / outdoor sex, unprotected sex, daddykink

“hurry up! let’s go!” you shouted, giggling under your breath. “he’ll never know we took the car, so don’t worry about it.” nobara, your childhood friend asked, “are you sure?” wanting to make sure that you wouldn’t get into trouble. “what if kento finds out?” nobara knew that her little friend, you, didn’t always think things through, allowing adrenaline to fuel her decisions and she often paid the price for her behavior. “yeah, I’m sure,” you replied, excitement lighting up your face. “he’s not even home from work for another hour and we’ll be back long before then.”

with that, the two girls threw open the side door to your sprawling home, and walked out to the shiny black Ferrari that sat safely in the garage. the hardtop convertible was breathtaking with its sporty front end and wraparound rear window, hugged by two flying buttresses. both of you filled the air with wild laughter as you jumped into the driver’s seat and nobara quickly slid into the passenger side. “oh my God, this is so hot!” you exclaimed, running your tiny hands over the thick black leather steering wheel. you grinned at nobara, before slipping the gear into drive. the car bolted out of the parking garage, and nobara squealed with excitement and fear.

“slow down!” she shouted above the loud music floating through the car. you paid no attention, whipping out of the long paved driveway onto the curvy road that led to the freeway. you were in your zone, joyriding in your step daddy’s car, with no care in the world. the girls whipped around corners, flying over a steep slope before the car roughly settled back down on the ground. you flicked the blinker on to the right, and turned onto the open highway. you flicked a switch and the hardtop roof began to collapse in perfect orchestration.

the two were now flying down the highway, the wind whipping their hair, as you increased your speed. it didn’t take long before they saw the familiar turnoff that led to the local pizza joint, and you turned the car quickly as its engine roared. “holy shit!” nobara screeched as the car came to a halt. “This car is amazing!” you laughed at your friend’s expression. nobara’s hair was blown out and she looked wild and dangerous.

you weren’t a stranger to joyriding in your step daddy’s car. since he married your mother a few months ago, you've been sneaking off in it every chance you got. you knew your stepfather would freak out if he ever knew, but you couldn’t resist. the vibrations under you, the music pounding in your ears and the wind blowing in your face was far too tempting to ignore. so far, your new step daddy hadn’t found out and you grinned to yourself at what a clever girl you were, making sure it was put back in the very same spot and that it always had the same amount of gas as when he left it.

“well, i’ll be damned!” a voice shouted from behind the car. the two turned their heads to see yuji walking slowly up to the driver’s side, running his hand over the cars backend. “someone’s going to be in trouble.” yuji was impressed. he always thought you was a daring one, but to steal your new stepfather’s car was a whole other story. “damn girl, you’ve got some balls.” you laughed. “well, hey there has to be some perks to my mother marrying a practical stranger,” you said thinking about just how ridiculous it was that your mother married yet another guy after only knowing him for a few weeks.

yuji grinned. “don’t like him much, huh?”

“he’s okay,” you replied nonchalantly. “I don’t know how long he’ll be around for with mom’s track record but hey, I’m enjoying it while it lasts.” you had been dating yuji for a few weeks now and he was anxious to see his girl handle such a powerful beast. “jump in the back, nobara,” he said. “i want to see my baby handle this beast the way she handles me.” yuji chuckled as nobara snarled at her friend. “you’re disgusting,” she replied, climbing into the back seat. she looked around waiting for yuji to get in front when she noticed a couple of friends walking into the pizza parlour.

“hey, maki!” she yelled, trying to get her friends attention. “y/n, you mind if I hang back here for a bit?” you smiled, anxious for some alone time with yuji. “not a bit,” you replied and waited for your friend to get out, “i’ll pick you back up in 20.” nobara got out of the car and waved to her friend, “see you in a few.” you glanced at yuji before hitting reverse. “you ready?” you asked, with a little wink. “you bet,” yuji replied as he slid his hand over your left thigh, “let’s go, baby.” you spun out of the parking lot, back onto the freeway. you sped down the road as yuji banged along to the music.

“want to go down to the beach?” you asked, switching lanes in preparation for the exit. you knew yuji had the same thing on his mind. “mmm yeah, let’s go,” yuji winked as he squeezed your thigh a little tighter. you drove through the exit until you came to the beach entrance. you pushed on the gas and the car roared down the tiny, narrow road. before too long you were down by the water and you quickly found a spot in the bare parking lot, just a few feet from the shore. yuji reached over and pulled you close, his arms snuggled around your shoulders.

“i missed you today,” he whispered as he pushed his lips hard against yours. “mmm, I missed you too,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his kiss. you bit lightly on his ear, your tongue making small swirls around his earlobe and down his neck. “god, I want to fuck you in this car,” he groaned, turned on by the hot little girl that was busy nibbling on his neck, and the sleek car that engulfed them.

“then fuck me,” you replied, lifting away from yuji long enough to pull up your tight pink t-shirt. yuji shook his head with desire as yours budding tits peeked out from your little bra. “you’re so damn hot,” he mused, sliding his hand over your chest, squeezing her tits together. “get this off,” he breathed, tugging at the clasp on your bra. The material gave way and you let it fall from your shoulders. “mmm…” yuji moaned, as he lowered his face to your chest. he flicked his tongue over your nipples as you threw your head back and groaned.

“i want you so badly,” you replied, pushing your breasts harder into yuji’s open mouth. with the hardtop still down, you were completely exposed to anyone who came wandering by and the thought only turned yuji on even more. “let’s get in the back.” you nodded and climbed over the leather seat into the back. you lay down with you head resting comfortable on the armrest, you small round ass firmly planted on the seat. yuji climbed into the backseat and lay on top of you.

you ran your fingers through his hair, as you kissed deeply. your breath was hard and fast as you hungrily slid your tongue deep into yuji’s mouth. “you’re pretty horny, huh?” he chuckled, running his hands down the sides of your ass, squeezing your hips tightly. “you want me to fuck you?” he asked, already knowing the answer. he had only been dating you for a few weeks now and you already fucked half a dozen times. you was a nymphomaniac and could never seem to get enough of his cock. yuji had no complaints.

“yeah, fuck me now,” you purred in a voice barely above a whisper. “i want to feel your hard cock inside of me.” yuji sucked in his breath, as he felt his cock harden in his jeans. you turned him on more than anyone before you, and he couldn’t wait to spread your legs and fuck you. he pulled away from you to unzip your jeans. you lifted your hips to help him, and he slid them off easily. you lay in nothing but your little pink panties, dotted with small red hearts. Yuji grinned at how incredibly hot you looked, with “fuck me” painted across your face. he sat up on his knees, reading to take off his own pants when he heard a roar above him.

“just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the voice boomed from behind. you scrambled to sit up, grabbing your t-shirt quickly and pressing it against your bare chest trying to shield your naked body from the trespasser. you squinted in the sunlight to see the shadowy figure walking quickly up to the driver’s side of the car.

“oh my god!” you shrieked, realizing that it was your stepfather, nanami. you pushed yuji away, as you struggled to re-dress. “he’s pissed!” nanami quickly approached the car, red faced and angry. “what the hell are you doing?” he shouted, his fists clenched tightly. he looked down at his stepdaughter and her boyfriend, in disgust and quickly stepped back as he noticed his daughter half-dressed. “you have got to be fucking kidding,” he huffed. “It’s not bad enough that you steal my car but you’re actually fucking in it? Are you serious?”

you didn’t know what to do. you sat frozen in place, staring up at your step daddy, terrified that he would tell your mother and you’d be grounded all summer. “i’m sorry,” was all you could muster in response. Yuji jumped out of the car, opposite from nanami and put his hands up in the air. “i had nothing to do with this, man,” he said backing away from the car, “she already had the car when I saw her at the pizza joint.” you shook your head in disgust at how quickly yuji threw you under the bus. what a dick’ you thought.

nanami nodded slowly, staring straight at yuji. “get the fuck out of here,” he said, with a warning. yuji scrambled backwards, walking away from the car mouthing the words “sorry”. he shrugged at you before turning away. nanami watched the kid jog off, in a cloud of fury. he swiftly turned towards you. “you’re a class act,” he stormed, his voice filled with anger. “nothing more than a spoiled little fucking brat.” you recoiled, clutching your t-shirt closer to your chest. you hadn’t even put it back on yet. instead, you felt glued to your seat unable to move.

“i’m really sorry,” you said, giving him your very best pout. It worked on the other guys, you thought. why not nanami? he wasn’t buying it. “yeah, you’ll be sorry,” he replied. “when your mother finds out, you’ll be sorry all summer.” you winced. your mother would freak out if she knew you took nanami’s car without permission, especially since she already warned you that you needed to be on your best behavior around nanami. god forbid if anyone knew that you had a wild streak.

“go ahead, tell her,” you challenged him, your expression quickly changing from sadness to anger. “who cares? i’ll do whatever i want to do, whether you or my mother likes it or not.” you glared at nanami, waiting for his response. he stood in silence, analyzing the young girl. “so, you’re a feisty one, huh?” he responded, his eyes softening. you rolled your eyes, no longer concerned about what nanami told your mother. you had just turned eighteen and you had plans to move out soon anyway.

“whatever,” you replied looking away from nanami. “like I said, tell my mother if you want to. I don’t care.” nanami said nothing. Instead, he opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. he adjusted the rear view mirror so that your face was centered square in the middle, and started the engine. the loud groan of the engine bucked underneath them and you twisted you body to the side, your t-shirt still clutched tightly against your chest. you couldn’t lift it over your head without exposing your breasts to nanami who stared at you through the rear view mirror.

shrugging, no longer caring what he saw, you lifted it up carefully, your tits exposed. “now, now,” nanami quickly responded. “not so fast. if you want to drive my car, you’ll have to give me something in return.” you paused from pulling your t-shirt over your head, and looked back at him through the mirror. your mind raced as you thought about how attractive your step daddy was and how this might actually work out in your favor. you smiled playfully, and lowered your t-shirt back down to your waist, sitting quietly in place, your budding breasts glistening in the light of the sun.

“what exactly do you want in return?” you asked, toying with nanami as you saw the dark look of lust washed over his face as he took you in, naked from the waist up. nanami sat still, his back still turned to you. he glanced up at you through the mirror again and smiled, before kicking the car into drive and driving out into a side road, away from the beach. he said nothing to her until he pulled the car down a narrow path, just a few minutes away from where they were. you looked out through the side of the car, the breeze blowing hard against your chest.

you didn’t recognize this part of the beach but it was obvious that nanami knew where he was going. he pulled into a small road that led down to a secluded area of the beach, and shifted the car in park. you felt your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. you were excited and at the same time you were nervous of what nanami had in mind, but you sat still waiting for him to speak. he turned sideways in the driver’s seat, his arm swinging over the leather, and looked back at you.

“take off those panties,” he instructed before opening the driver’s side door and stepping out. you sucked in your breath. nanami was a nice looking man but he was much older and far more experienced than you were. you felt your skin flush with heat and you looked at nanami intently, barely moving. “did you hear me?” he responded, his eyes wild with hunger.

“get undressed.”

you nodded, keeping your eyes locked on him. you pushed your t-shirt to the side and lifted up your hips, sliding off your little heart shaped panties. you sat there, timid and shy with your legs closely tightly together. nanami looked at the young girl as you awaited his command. without words, he opened the back door to the car commanded you to get out of the car. you sucked in your breath, as your body tingled with nervousness. nanami waited patiently as you slowly got up out of the car, covering both breasts with you arms.

“now isn’t the time to be shy,” he grinned.

“you sure weren’t this timid when it came to stealing my car now were you?” you looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say.

“I’m really sorr…”

“save it,” nanami replied sternly. “I don’t want to hear another word of it.” you nodded, still looking down at the ground. “get on your knees,” he commanded, as he unbuckled his jeans and pulled the long leather strap out and away from him. He threw it into the open backseat of the car. you knelt down on the white sand, and placed your hands on your knees. you looked up at nanami, and his lips curled up in delight at just how sweet and innocent you looked. but nanami knew better. you were anything but innocent and it was time you was taught a lesson.

nanami stepped a few feet towards you, positioning himself so that his thick, hard cock was just inches from your pouty mouth. you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise at how big nanami’s cock was. you hadn’t seen one so big and thick before. you gulped in nervousness. “have you ever sucked a cock before?” nanami asked, looking down at the top of your little head. you looked up at him with big beautiful eyes, and slowly nodded.

“yes,” you whispered.

“i can’t hear you,” nanami responded, pulling on your hair, gathering in his fists. he yanked on it gently, so that you looked straight up at him. “do you know how to suck cock?” you nodded, your thick black eyelashes fluttering. “i have done it before.” you said.

he nodded and instructed you further.

“open your mouth and suck it,” he commanded, pushing his cock towards your pouty lips. you struggled to squeeze his cock into your pretty mouth. It was so thick and heavy, and you found yourself choking as you tried to suck harder and harder. you took control, pulling his cock out of your mouth and rubbing it all over your lips. “kiss the tip of my cock,” he instructed, as the little girls tongue flickered over the swollen head of his cock. you pursed your lips together and kissed the head of nanami’s cock. you hadn’t done it quite like this before and you tried your best to make him happy, sucking and licking the head and running your tongue up and down his shaft.

“ahh,” nanami moan. “that’s it. that’s a good little girl.”

nanami grabbed your hair again, clenching handfuls of hair in his fist. with a free hand, he began stroking his cock, forcing it into your mouth. “open wider,” he said as he rammed his cock into your throat. “suck my cock.” you felt your mouth oozing with saliva as nanami forced his cock deep into your throat. you gagged, trying desperately to pull your head back but nanami forced it down again, watching closely as you struggled to suck and lick like a big girl.

he watched as your mouth bobbed up and down on his cock, your perky little tits pressing up against his leg as he forced his cock into your slippery throat. his dick felt so good that he had to force himself to slow down by squeezing on his shaft. you stopped sucking, and slowed down, running your lips along the edge of his shaft as you looked up at him innocently.

“is that okay?” you asked with the sweet voice of a little virgin who had sucked a man’s cock for the very first time. but as much as he wished, you were certainly not a virgin, although he knew that you had never felt a cock quite a thick as his. and he was anxious to spread you open and fuck this little doll. he pulled you into a standing position, spinning you around so that you stood back to.

“spread your legs,” he commanded, pushing your legs apart so he could stand between them. he pushed your shoulders forward so that your flat stomach lay against the car, your ass pointed out towards him. you fingers went to your mouth, and you sucked on your fingertip, as you looked back at nanami. you felt your pussy get hot and wet with anticipation. the idea of your new daddy fucking your tight little pussy drove you over the edge and you suddenly had a hunger for him that you never felt before.

“are you going to fuck me, daddy?” you asked in your best little girl voice. nanami felt his cock throb, as he looked over at his little princess. your ass was so tiny and your body was still developing. the sight of your tiny frame made his cock grow even harder. nanami reached down and squeezed your little ass, making you squeal.

“i’m so sorry I stole your car,” you whined, knowing you was about to be punished.

“you’re such a little slut, y/n,” nanami replied, turning away from you so that your ass was tucked into his left arm. “you can’t take daddy’s car without asking. do you understand?” you nodded, your fingertips still in your mouth. you looked afraid of what was about to happen, but you hard little nipples revealed just how hot you really were. nanami held your hips tightly against his side, and swatted your right ass cheek.

“ohh, daddy!” you cried. “that hurt!”

nanami ran his hand over your ass to relieve the sting, before swatting it again. “are you going to ask daddy before you take my car again?” he asked, his throbbing cock pushing against your leg. “yes, daddy,” you nodded. “i promise I’ll be a good girl.” nanami ran both of his big hands over your ass, soothing it gently.

“That’s my good little girl,” he replied. he twisted around so that he was directly behind you and pushed you down onto the car. “but daddy needs his little girl to show him just how sorry she really is,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock into your smooth pussy. you moaned. “yes, daddy,” you said in a tiny whisper. you spread your legs so that nanami could push his cock deeper into your tight little pussy. nanami groaned, feeling your little girl cunt struggle to open up enough to fit his cock in. it was so tight and wet, and he had trouble squeezing into you.

“your pussy is so tight,” he breathed, feeling your pussy wrap around his cock, “feel so nice and tight.” you moaned. he made you feel hot, and you suddenly felt your pussy get wetter than ever before. “ohh, daddy,” you breathed not knowing what was happening to your body. you had sex with a boy before, you thought, but it never felt anything like this before. nanami was just so big. you trembled, your skin glistening with sweat.

“daddy, my pussy feels soooo good!”

“that’s a good girl,” nanami moaned, watching as his thick cock slid in and out of the tiny hole. he spread her ass cheeks, and pulled her closer to his body, as he pumped her little pussy in smooth, steady strokes. “baby, i want you to play with your clit for me, could you that for me?” nanami kept pushing in and out of your bare little snatch, as you slid your hand down to your clit. “rub your little clit, y/n,” nanami instructed. you did as your stepdaddy ordered, rubbing your small clit with the flat of your fingertips. you moaned with delight.

“i love playing with my little pussy,” you whispered, rubbing wet circles over your clit. nanami pumped harder, knowing you was about to cum and wanting to push his sperm deep into your little belly at the same time. “you’re making daddy feel so good, baby,” he panted, as he felt his balls tighten and his cock surge. “i want you to cum in my little pussy,” you said in a voice barely above a whisper. nanami’s cock pounded into your little pussy, and he knew he was seconds away from exploding. he increased the rhythm, sliding his entire cock into your precious cunt.

“ow! come inside my little pussy, daddy!” you begged your stepdaddy. “i want to feel it!” nanami couldn’t hold off any longer. you were pushing hard against his cock, and he couldn’t believe how much your little cunt could take. you rubbed your pink slit furiously, and he felt your little body quiver beneath him. “i’m coming, daddy!” you screamed unable to control what was happening to your body. your breath was frantic and you pushed harder and harder against him. nanami bucked against her in deep strokes and his cum exploded into your pussy.

“Ahh!” he groaned, filling his shaft emptying inside of you. he drew back, clutching onto the side of the car as he felt the dizzy aftershock of his orgasm. your chest heaved as you gasped for breath. your face was flushed in heat, and your skin soaked with sweat. “nanami?” you whispered, as you sat down on the sand, feeling your legs buckling beneath you.

nanami gasped, his breath heavy. “yes?”

“that felt so good,” you replied, a bright wide grin on your little mouth.

nanami nodded with a smile.

“u think you and I are going to get along just fine,” he said before gathering his jeans from the backseat.

“get dressed. we have to get home before your mother begins to wonder where you are.” nanami held out his hands to help his little girl get up on her feet. you beamed, excited about the idea of what was to come. your new daddy wasn’t so bad after all, you thought, as you redressed and slid into the passenger seat.

“wait,” you replied, clicking the door shut and pulling the seatbelt over her shoulder. “how did you find me at the beach?” nanami looked at you with a mischievous grin. “do you really think I’d leave the keys to my car hanging on the hook in the den if I didn’t want them to be found?

“you mean, you left them there on purpose knowing I’d take your car?” you asked, confused. “you were always so predictable”, nanami replied, giving you a little wink. “but how did you find me?” you asked. “don’t worry about that”, nanami replied grinning. “but next time, just remember that if you take something from me, i take something from you.” you giggled. so, your stepfather liked to play games, you thought. let’s see what he does when I borrow his Platinum Mastercard.

nanami pushed the gas pedal and the car raced over the bumpy landscape, leaping towards the highway. having a new stepdaughter might not be such a bad thing after all, he thought as he turned up the music.

whe song Secret Lovers blared through the speakers, and they laughed together.

what a perfect song for a perfect day.

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