#on his way outside he said there's gonna be two or three more songs for me and it was just such a sweet welcome imo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ncteez · 1 year

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Oh no, he’s hot (k.m.g)

The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader

CONTENT― there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, bottom(ish) mingyu, top(ish) reader, desperate smutty stuff, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her early 20s (in other words, age gaps be damned, you’re both adults.)

OTHER CHARACTERS― chan is his son and ur just gonna have to deal with that for the sake of having no unnamed characters

WARNINGS― Mingyu has an internal war over wanting you because his son also wants you. Another thing, this is entirely consenting, but mingyu does mention to stop and/or wait at one point while clearly acting against his own words.

NOTE― So uh, this fic is kind of a push and pull between morality and fucking because you’re horny. There’s some backhanded stuff about Chan but ill make it up to him in a future fic, i swear. Anyway, behold, the unedited dilf mingyu fic.

smut tags under cut::

― part two here!

smut tags―his brain is between his legs in this fic, BIG DICK MINGYU, grinding(ish), masturbation, handjob, neck kissing/sucking, groping, pet names: babe & sweetheart, face riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (just assume they’re protected somehow at this point), he’s technically the one doing the fucking but he’s very in tune with her pleasure, missionary, g-spot stimulation and deep penetration

The first time you met Kim Mingyu was an unfortunate event. One where his son was seeing three of you and four of his dad as you struggled to get him up the steps of the porch. It’s not that Chan purposely stayed out past curfew, and it’s definitely not that he forgot his gate code or his dorm keys, it’s just that he really needed a friend to get him to his dad’s house. It wasn’t out of the way, Chan promised you that, even as you drove a full ten minutes across the city line to get him to safety. At first, you didn’t mind and preferred to spend more time with him anyway, but then it was even more worth the drive. Especially after meeting his father and realizing that he’s, to put it bluntly, just as hot as Chan. If not, more.

The second, third, and fourth time you met Kim Mingyu was much the same on the outside. Internally though, each time you met him threw you further and further into a specific thought process. One that felt taboo. You’ve never felt anything towards the parent of a friend, better yet the parent of a crush. Until now, at least, especially with the way Mingyu looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice.

It’s not that you think Chan’s dad would consider you an option, the smallest possibility of that is definitely not the reason why you volunteer to take his rowdy ass home either. Before it was because you wanted to spend more time with the guy you possibly were trying to date. Now? You won’t admit the reasoning. If anything, it’s because the older man has a kind face and thanks you each time for bringing Chan home to him rather than leaving him on the lawn of some frat house.

The fact that all of this started because you had a crush on Chan was insane enough. Now look at you, going to frat parties with him, no longer to get closer per se, but so you can take him to his childhood home despite him not forgetting his dorm keys anymore.

It’s the latest you’ve ever brought him this time, nearing four in the morning as you drag his clumsy self up his front porch as he hums the tune to your favorite song at you.

“I told you,” Chan slurs through his humming, stopping you from knocking on the door and leaning his weight on you even more. “I have my keys this time. Why are we at my dad’s house again?”

You shake your head at him, adjusting your body better to accommodate his dead weight on your right side.

“Curfew. Do you want to be written up for a noise complaint again?” You look at him, watching him tilt his head and remove himself from your side to stand in front of you in an immaculate show of how uncoordinated he can be.

“You take such good care of me,” He slurs again, smiling at you from under his messy fringe and struggling to adjust his eyes to meet yours properly. “Y’know, Soonyoung said you have a crush on me–”

You cut him off, stepping forward and knocking against the door as loudly as you can to avoid the fact that you might’ve had a crush on him before, and perhaps you still do. It’s just– his dad, y’know?

“Why’re you ignoring me?” He smiles again, leaning lazily against the door frame as you knock.

Honestly, on any other day, you’d probably be blushing. You’d be floored by Chan being so forward toward you, especially in his cute drunken state with his sparkling eyes and stupid messy hair. It’s no wonder you have–had– a crush on him. With a face like that, a voice like that, a body like that, a dad like that.

“I’d rather talk about this when you’re sober, Chan.” You deadpan, knocking again and wondering if it’s taking his dad a while to get out of bed because it’s too early in the morning to be handling a drunk son.

Chan looks at you for several seconds with his crooked and lazy smile, nodding to you and blinking out of sync. You do think he’s charming, even like this. It’s a shame, really, that you can hear the door unlocking because you probably would have grabbed his face and kissed him at that moment. Mingyu be damned. Even more of a shame that your variable crush on him fizzles out the second you see his father time and time again.

Mingyu stands there behind that thin layer of glass with his sweat pants sitting low on his hips, shirt nowhere to be seen, with a face of both disappointment in Chan and sleepy fondness towards you. On instinct, you remember the first time you saw him and every time after that. No matter the change of lighting, time of night, or the way he has his hair– he never looks to be old enough to be Chan’s father. To put it bluntly, Mingyu doesn’t appear to be any older than his mid-twenties. Still, any sane person would be chasing after his son, much like you were but, here you are, wanting nothing more than to chase after the forty-something-year-old father of a cute drunken idiot.

Chan watches you stare at his dad but isn’t quite sure if it means anything because his drunken brain is telling him that you’re just tired or something. Still, he leans from the frame and immediately clings to you, his state offering little to hide the feelings he’s grown towards you. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt his nose nuzzle against your neck, with his alcohol-scented breath blowing against the skin there. You struggle to not lean into him.

Mingyu opens the door upon seeing Chan acting like a fool in love, much like he would have done at his age in the same state of bliss with a pretty girl by his side.

“Chan is very drunk again,” You laugh apologetically, looking away from the Mingyu and feeling Chan’s hands grip your waist as he hugs you. You try not to think too hard about his hands gripping you too, mostly because he’s never actually been this forward or clingy towards you. Truly, if he had done this before meeting Mingyu, and without being absolutely trashed, you’d probably already have asked to be his girlfriend or gone down on him, at the very least.

“Should I lead him to the couch?”

Mingyu nods, looking at you with a gentle smile, well aware of the fact that you bring Chan here for reasons other than giving his son a place to lay his head. He knows Chan keeps his keys on him now, and he’s known since the second time you dropped him off. Especially considering he scolds him every morning after a drunken party, and each time, Chan proves that his keys were with him. He also knows his son well enough to see when he takes a liking to a girl, the issue is that you make it very very obvious that you’re more interested in him rather than Chan. Which is flattering, incredibly cute, equally as dangerous, and such a fucking shame for his son.

Here’s the thing. Mingyu is a good person with a stable head on his shoulders. He’s a good father, a hard worker, and a gentle soul, but he gets horny just like any other man. Unfortunately, when a woman who he finds attractive, even if he swears he isn’t interested, starts throwing signals his way– it’s hard to ignore them and even harder to control himself when he hasn’t so much as gone on a date with another woman in at least a year. Much like his son, maybe he’s taken the tiniest liking to you too. To make himself feel better though, he swears it’s because he’s proud of his son for finding such a pretty girl that puts up with him.

After all, he would never sleep with a woman that his son is fond of. Even when you look at him the way you do, even when you bend over in front of him for a second too long, making it obvious that you like it when his eyes land on your ass. Mingyu’s got wisdom in terms of bedroom eyes, and he would be terribly mistaken if the way you look at him wasn’t exactly that. It started eating him up inside from the second time you stepped foot in his house, and shamefully– he’s maybe thought about you in ways that he shouldn’t. Not only does Chan seem to be around you a lot, but you’re the same age as his son.

Of course, he feels bad. He feels like a pervert and a creep when he finds himself warming up at the way you look at him. Then he thinks hard enough about it to wonder where things could lead if he were to be selfish for once. It’s hard to find you attractive, especially when you appear to make excuses to stare at him. When he’s in his head about it, usually for several hours after you’ve dropped Chan off, he thinks about how you’re both adults and you are not obligated to cater to Chan, nor are you obligated to cater to him. You are a whole person with your own interests, and if your interest happens to be him– and if he happens to take an interest in you too, wouldn’t that just be two consenting adults? The dilemma of Chan liking you is what fucks with his head.

Tonight, it’s even worse and it’s becoming more and more difficult to brush you off or avert his eyes. Again, he would not ever sleep with a woman that his son is interested in but, he happens to be a bit touch-starved and you happen to be flaunting yourself at him. So, he’s allowed to at least, like, think about it, right?

“Ah,” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck with one hand and takes a step to the side to let you in. His shirtless body warms up when your eyes continuously scan him. You appear more interested each time you come by, and he can’t help but think that this is already reaching dangerous territory. There’s a clear reason why you keep coming to his house, using his son as an excuse to play innocent.

“That should be comfortable enough,” he comments in a sleep-shrouded rasp, watching you plop his son down on the couch. He closes the front door and grabs a lap blanket from the back of the couch to throw over him to help get him situated. “More comfortable than the bed in his dorm, I'm sure.”

“Ah, his shoes.” You comment to yourself, pulling at Chan’s laces and slipping his shoes off of him before lifting back up and preparing to head to the door. The visit to look at Mingyu is always only five to ten minutes, but you enjoy the ogling session nonetheless.

“Hey,” Chan slurs out, reaching out and pulling at your arm. “It’s pretty late, just crash here with me…”

You stumble a bit, losing your balance and landing against him, but you’re quick to pull yourself back up with a laugh. God, why does he have to be the one with a hot dad? Why couldn’t he have done all of this before? Why do you have to be single and ready to mingle with a man twice your age because of Chan?

As you stand back to your feet, you look at him as his heavy eyes start to close despite the shenanigans he just pulled. He’s already falling asleep and surely he won’t remember this by morning, so you gently back away with a soft shake of your head before heading for the door and placing his shoes on the rack there.

“He’s right.” Mingyu manages to say, stepping in front of the door and crossing his arms. He’s a bit unsure of why he’s offering this but ultimately plays it off. It’s not because he’s trying to play cupid and hook you up with his son either. Selfishly, it’s because he wouldn’t mind you staring at him for a bit longer.

“It’s already too late, and I’m aware that your campus is a bit of a drive…” He trails off, trying to not act exactly like Chan towards you.

You pause, noting that you were about to immediately agree despite rejecting his son’s offer. Looking at Mingyu, with his broad shoulders and sharp jaw, you shake your head much like before, hoping that he offers again so you can pretend to not seem so excited.

“Maybe I shouldn’t, I still need to shower and I don’t have anything to change into–” You try to make excuses, but he shakes his head, putting his hands out in a defensive kind of way.

“No, no. I insist. It’s not safe, I’m sure I’ve got something lying around that you can put on for the night, there are extra toothbrushes too.”

Well, you’re not gonna fucking argue that.

“Okay,” You offer a soft nod and a smile, stepping away from the door and looking to the floor. You feel elated right now. “Where’s the bathroom then?”

Mingyu, for some reason, is trembling as he suddenly feels entirely naked in front of you even with his thick sweatpants covering the bits. He smiles back at you, reaching out as if you should grab his hand.

In reality, it was just to be polite but you did grab his hand. He panics a little because your hands are so fucking soft and warm, and god it’s been way too long since he’s looked at a woman this way. Such a fucking shame that Chan likes you, he knows he can’t be thinking like this.

Mingyu reluctantly leads you down the hallway to the bathroom, softly and quietly pointing out the towels and extra tooth brushes before stepping out and immediately walking away. You didn’t get to inquire about said pajamas he was going to offer to you, and in all honesty, he definitely forgot the second he realized that he was thinking too hard right now.

He stands against the closed door of his room until he hears the water in the bathroom start and the shower curtain closing. That’s when he realizes he forgot to get you those fucking pajamas and curses under his breath before rushing out of the room and towards the laundry room. He’s sure he has some of Chan’s clothes here that he’s always leaving behind.

Thankfully, he finds a pair of boxers and a ratty old t-shirt stretched out far past its original sizing. He’s sure this will do fine as he hastily grabs them and heads toward the bathroom again.

He stands outside of the door frozen, unsure of if he should knock or just leave them at the door. His brain is running a mile a minute at how to navigate thinking intimate things about you behind that shower curtain. Naked. The fact that you’ll be putting on his son’s clothes, probably without panties because you appeared to have made a point that you needed to change out of tonight’s clothes– oh god. There it is. There’s the shameful arousal he’s been fighting since the second time you brought Chan home.

The water turns off after several minutes of him standing there, and he can hear the shower curtain move as you step out and presumably dry off.

The softest of knocks known to man can be heard on your side of the door and that’s when you, yourself, get pulled out of your thoughts of Mingyu stepping inside this bathroom and wrapping your legs around him. As you look around, you should probably ask about those pajamas, and surely that’s Mingyu on the other side of this door knocking like the most polite man in the universe.

It’s dangerous, really. For Mingyu to be feeling this desperate for the touch of an attractive woman, whoever it may be, and you on the other side of this door desperate to touch him. You wonder if he will reject your advances, or if he will at least pick up a hint or two. You wonder if you’re about to put his clothes on you and if you’ll be able to smell him on you when you intentionally go home in them tomorrow after you wake up.

You creak the door open, holding the towel loosely against you as you make eye contact with him. You’re confident enough to seduce a man, but seducing Mingyu is new ground for you. Will your usual antics work on an older man? Guess you’ll find out, because right now is a better time than any.

He’s still shirtless, his sweatpants seem to be sitting lower on his hips now too. You can’t help it when you trail your eyes down, shamelessly taking in his image before meeting his eye again with a sly smile.

That little smile kind of solidifies it for him. The look on your face is easily recognizable to him, considering he’s seen it time and time again back before he had an entire child with someone. So, he pushes the door open a bit more, smelling the soapy scent of what you used to wash with before immediately taking a step back as you take the clothes from him. It’s not that he wouldn’t step inside and make advances on you, but he’s really trying to control his urges right now. Simply because his son likes you.

“They’re Chan’s,” he comments shortly, his own eyes trailing down without intention and watching a water droplet fall from the dip of your shoulder to seep into the towel loosely hiding your chest. “That's all I could find.”

You watch him stand there, despite having taken a step back from the doorway, he appears to be planted in place without hiding the way his eyes take you in more than they ever have. You’re purposely holding this towel against you in a revealing way for him. So, you’re feeling pretty good that it seems to be working, and he’s even picking up on your energy toward him.

“Oh,” you finally say, looking down at the clothes in your hands. “I thought you were going to give me something of yours to wear.”

Mingyu swallows hard. He was almost going to ask if you’d prefer to wear his clothes, but he controls himself yet again.

“Ah, I didn’t want Chan to think anything.”

You perk up at that comment, playing off of it.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a playful tone to your voice. “You’d just be helping me sleep comfortably like a good host.” You smile as you keep eye contact with him now.

“Ah, well,” He laughs awkwardly with you, now imagining you in his clothes. The arousal only grows at the image of you in one of his old ratty shirts rather than his son’s. This is not okay though, he cannot be thinking these things while you’re less than a foot away from him with just that loose towel covering you.

You notice his lack of words after that, so you trail your eyes down again to see if you’re truly the only one here considering things to do that Chan would find suspicious. He’s so broad, honestly, he’s big enough that he could trap you against the bathroom counter behind you and have his way with ease.

“Are you,” You pause for a moment, narrowing your eyes before glancing up at his eyes again, “turned on?”

Mingyu freezes only for a moment before putting his hands in front of himself and turning away from you while whispering a small apology.

“Sorry, it’s not intentional,” he goes to say, feeling his cheeks warm up at the fact that you so bluntly asked him such a thing. “I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even finish his sentence before he points to his room with his thumb, rushes down the hallway, and closes the door behind him.

You’re left standing there in silence with Chan’s clothing in your hands. You slowly back yourself into the bathroom and get dressed with a mischievous smile on your face, opting to leave your clothes in his laundry just to try and be sneaky in order to have a reason to stop by on your own next time.

By the time you exit the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you’re left wondering if you should squeeze up against Chan and actually just crash here, or if you should go cause more tension with his dad, who is very clearly still awake in his bedroom because you can hear his television in there. Unsure of if you’ve crossed a line or not, your confidence is at an all time high after seeing him apologize for getting hard while looking at you. Clearly, you’re not tired, definitely not after that. He appears to be taking an interest and yes, you’re gonna see just how interested he is.

Taking a deep breath, you pad down the hallway and knock gently at his bedroom door. You think up any excuse to give him when he creaks the door open, but thankfully you didn’t have to try too hard.

“Where should I sleep?” You ask in mock-shyness, rubbing your thighs together and noting that he appears to be slightly out of breath.

Mingyu, mid-jerk off session, was not expecting you to actually keep approaching him. He is entirely too weak now, as if he wasn’t already. He still has precum against his palm when he opens his door, and you’re standing there staring up at him with damp skin and his son’s loose ass shirt hanging over your legs– jesus.

“Um,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking down the hallway and listening for any sound that could indicate his son was awake, “Where ever you want?” He calms himself with the silence, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his bedsheets and release himself of these filthy thoughts of you.

“In here then.” You boldly state, pressing a palm against his door and staring directly at the wet spot against his hastily pulled-up sweatpants.

“Wait, hold on,” Mingyu whispers as he stops you from opening his door any further. “What are you trying to do?”

He didn’t expect you to actually answer that question.

“I thought I made that obvious?” You admit, now feeling your confidence break a bit because you really thought he was also sending signals.

“You did, but I can’t just let this happen.” Mingyu follows up with his own admittance, noting the way your face falls, and instantly he feels fucking bad about it. A face so pretty shouldn’t be looking so defeated by a mere rejection out of pure moral stance, he really shouldn’t say anything more.

He watches as you slowly nod, accepting his rejection and preparing to turn around and probably get in your car to go home. Against his better judgment and allowing his weakness to take hold, he speaks up again.

“Wait, wait, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” You perk right back up as he talks. “I just– I can’t do that to him.”

“Do what to him?” You tilt your head at him, lifting your palm back to his door to try and press it open again, shockingly, he lets you this time. “He and I aren’t dating, he’s never even tried anything with me when he’s sober.”

Mingyu thinks hard about this now, stepping back from his door and knowing for a fact that the moment you step into his room it’s over for him. He didn’t expect you to be like this, but god it’s doing something for him. Are you this forward towards his son, or would you be this forward toward him if he actually made a sober move on you? No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, with the way you’re clearly trying to come onto him.

“That isn’t the point, I’m not that kind of person.” Mingyu tries to argue, eyes boring holes through you with lust that doesn’t match his argument at all.

You don’t want to push him if he’s genuinely not wanting to do this with you, but god, you’ve imagined this far more than you’d like to admit.

“Would you though? If the circumstances were different?”

Mingyu appears to be totally lost at this point, standing there as he watches you step through his doorway, looking so….touchable in his son’s clothes.

“Fuck, yeah.” He sighs out this time, blatantly staring you down before realizing what he just said, and he struggles to take back the words.

You watch as his sweatpants move along with the twitch of his length beneath, and you do little to sway his break of control. If anything, you make it harder by stepping closer to him.

“If I asked you to touch me right now, would you?” You ask him, closing the distance and practically feeling his warmth pull you in.

If he wasn’t in the middle of pleasuring himself when you knocked, he would be able to turn you away, but he was so fucking close. And now you’re actually in this room with him, much like he was imagining.

“I shouldn’t,” He whispers in defeat, all while his hand reaches out to yours and trails it straight to his clothed cock. “This is not something I should want to do–”

You feel him twitch under your palm, warm from his arousal. You wonder if he was in here thinking about you before you knocked.

“Were you jerking off to me?” You ask bluntly, squeezing him and watching the way he releases a sigh before his eyes fall back onto yours, darker than before.

“Close the door.” He says, ignoring your question and stepping past his own boundary line.

Even when you pull away from him with a wicked smirk, his hips chase your palm until it’s out of reach and you’re silently closing his door. You approach him quickly this time, reaching between his legs without a hint of fear as you squeeze around him to make him release a sigh similar to the one before.

“Were you?” You ask again, jerking your hand up a bit and feeling the thickness of him, rubbing your legs together once again. This is really happening this time, and it was almost too easy.

Mingyu nods shamefully, reaching to grab your wrist and halt its movements.

“Wait,” He warns, throwing his head back for a moment with a frustrated groan. He’s arguing with himself in his head, sending mixed signals of what he wants and then immediately pulling back. “I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You pause, looking at him and the way he rolls his head forward to look at you again. You say nothing and your hand remains halted against his length as he makes a mental list of the pros and cons of this situation. It’s entirely silent, and you smile when he bucks his hips up against your palm, seemingly making a decision.

“Shit,” he groans with a breathy chuckle, rubbing himself against you. You can see his bicep flex as he holds your hand there, and you honestly expected him to be more in control of his body. Somehow, it’s far more sexy to see him fight himself over you.

“Let me,” you comment gently, trying to move your hand and feeling the way he relaxes under it with another low rumble of a moan. “I want to.”

He’s already crossed his moral line, and the guilt that could come from this is replaced with arousal. The thoughts he had of you from before all could come true at this moment, and possibly only happen just this once.

Mingyu’s eyes are drawn to your hand against him and he bucks his hips towards the warmth on instinct. It feels so good to be touched by someone other than himself. He’s going to let himself have you, just this once. Hopefully, Chan won’t find out, and hopefully, this won’t happen again.

Your hand moves so gently over his length that despite barely feeling it through the thick sweatpants, it somehow sends shivers down his spine. He can’t keep his hips from moving, and he can’t stop breathing out little sounds because it genuinely feels like he’s fucking melting at your touch. Sure, it would probably be this way if anyone were to touch him like this after so long of being alone, but the fact that it’s you… for some reason has his head spinning. Out of anyone on this planet that he should be doing this with, it’s you.

You switch between watching his face to watching his hips. A man so broad and intimidating in stature is acting much like an inexperienced man being touched for the first time, and it’s throwing you for a loop. Just a little bit. After imagining him pinning you down, tearing you apart, and talking down to you so many times– it’s a bit of a shock seeing him do everything but that.

The look in his eyes is reluctant but his hips move with purpose against your hand. It’s cute. Watching him somehow seem so composed but unraveling all at once over your hand alone is something you’ve never experienced, so you were more than happy to snake your hand under the waistband of his sweats and watch him shiver at the sensation.

When you feel the warmth between his legs and the slippery beads of precum dripping out of him, it was easy to grasp him and imagine the weight of his cock inside of you. That alone blew your pupils out as you stare up at him, learning the ways in which he prefers to get touched.

His hips don’t stop moving towards you, and even at this angle of simply standing in front of him, you can feel the desperate force behind his movements. It’s so insanely hot to be doing this with Mingyu at all that you think you’d accept just about anything from him at this point.

It only took less than a minute of jerking him off beneath those sweats when he dips his head down. You can feel his breath against you, fanning against your chin until it’s replaced with his hand, skewing your head away so that he can attach his lips directly to your neck.

God, it’s something he’s doing. Holding you there, breathing heavily as his tongue swipes your pulse point with little muffled sighs as your hand grips and squeezes him. You can feel his hips continue to speed up, fucking into the circle your fingers make around him. For a solid moment there, you thought you were dreaming, but his raspy voice pulls you from that idea, planting you back in reality.

“I’ve thought about this a few times,” he whispers, kissing his way to the other side of your neck. “Have you?”

You nod, feeling more pre-cum drip from him. Your hand glides up and down his length perfectly as he moves his hips in sync, laying sloppy and breathy kisses just below your ear.

“I’ve thought about this since the first day I saw you,” you admit, leaning your head back a bit to try and get him to look at you, “I didn’t imagine you being this big though, Mr.Kim.”

Mingyu does pull back at the name, his lips slack and puffy as he looks at you with disapproval.

“Mm, don’t call me that, sweetheart. Mingyu is fine,” he pauses as you nod to him, and winces a bit at the way your fingers tease the head of his cock so beautifully. He has to breathe through his nose to keep himself from shoving you to the floor and spreading you open on him. “I’m not turned on because of a power dynamic–” He admits with a sigh.

“Oh?” You question, pressing yourself up against him and gaining a new angle for your wrist to begin flicking around his length. “Why are you doing it then?”

You are curious as to why he’s found an interest in you, though you refuse to question it. If it’s like it is in porn, where it’s strictly the age gap or the idea of having the power of another, so be it. It appears though, that Mingyu has other reasons.

“Because I want to know how you sound when you’re drenching my cock and saying my name.”

Oh, there’s the Mingyu you imagined so many times before. Saying filthy things already, making your legs feel like jelly at the sheer image of him letting you drench him. You felt those words hit you right in the core. Your entire body tenses out of pleasure. You’re fucking tingling, and instantly pressing him forward to see if he really meant what he said.

Mingyu isn’t used to talking dirty these days though, but he can see the way you react to those words. Being led to his own bed by you says enough about how that made you feel.

When he falls back on the bed, you see the way his darkened pupils overtake the fond smile on his lips, and when you pull your hand from his pants and try to crawl on top of him, it confuses you when he stops you.

You look down at him, tilting your head in question before he speaks.

“Take his clothes off first, I want to see you,” he mumbles, his own hands rubbing down his abs and his fingers tucking under his own sweats.

You nod, backing yourself up and sliding Chan’s boxers down your legs. You watch the way Mingyu watches you, seemingly treating this like a show as he slips his hand under his sweats and resumes to himself what you had been doing for him before. The hidden movement under those sweats ignites a fire inside of you, the reality of Mingyu pleasuring himself to you taking off his son’s clothes hits you so fucking hard. You feel desired by a man that shouldn’t desire you, and it makes you feel so fucking sexy.

He’s watching you hard and even lets a small and choked-out moan fall from his lips when you begin to lift the shirt off of you.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” he compliments, blatantly squeezing his palm around the base of his length and imagining that it’s you sinking down on him. “Come here.”

As he reaches his free hand out to invite you on top of it, the words he said make you buckle into a world of shyness. You almost want to hide your face from his fond and darkened eyes, especially as he continues to palm against himself even as if you sit on his thighs.

You watch the movements under his sweats until your eyes are torn from the act, his warm hand pressing you up further and then guiding your face down to his. There, you expect to share a kiss with him, but he just ghosts his lips over yours, eyes falling into a half-lidded look. Your own eyes flutter closed, parting your lips for him– but instead of feeling him kiss you, you only feel his words come out in sighed mumbles.

“How do you feel about feeling my tongue on you?” he whispers, flexing his arm at your side as he fucks into his own fist harder now that he has you on top of him.

You open your eyes to look at him, noting his dazed smile, pupils blown under those half-closed lids. You’ve never ridden a man’s face before, despite having been eaten out several times. You’re a little nervous, but he nods an encouragement out to you as he attempts to guide you further up.

“Don’t be shy, babe. I want to taste you,” he pauses to look at your face, trying to show that you can say no, even with your pussy already nearing where he wants it to be. “Yeah?”

You give him a shy nod, scooting up until you’re sitting on his chest and leaning back a bit. You’re trying to remain confident enough to do it yourself, but he continues to guide you, all the way until you’re propping yourself up with your knees on either side of his head. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your thighs when you hover, and he starts kissing the flesh there, giving you no reason to feel embarrassed at all. It feels almost ticklish, and it makes your legs shake at the sensation.

As he continues to kiss against your thighs, you can feel his free hand move to grope your ass, spreading you open just a bit and rocking you just inches from his mouth. The pressure of waiting to feel his tongue on you is one thing, but feeling his big hand guide you to sit a little closer had you obeying instantly.

Still trying to remain confident, you look down between your legs and can only see the mess of hair fanned against his mattress, you kind of love the image. Knowing that it’s his face down there, and that’s his tongue working its way on your thigh and closer to your core. You jolt slightly when you feel the warm muscle tease at your folds, flicking gently before his hand begins to rock you against it, encouraging you to grind.

You’re very reluctant at first, even upon feeling his tongue travel to your clit when he guides your hips back. It’s only when he leans his head up a bit to close any amount of space between his mouth and your pussy, that you release a shaky moan. His tongue circled your clit before sucking hard against it, and it really did make it difficult not to sit harder against him.

Within seconds of that little sound, you hear the snap of his sweats against his abdomen and you feel both of his hands grasping at your ass. You’re seeing stars instantly when he presses you down all the way and instantly begins to part your pussy with his tongue, grinding you harshly against his mouth until he’s the one sending vibrations of moans through you.

He lifts you up momentarily after a moment just to look at your pussy over him, and rolls his eyes back in an even filthier-sounding moan.

“Do you even know how wet you are?” He asks, staring directly at the way your pussy pulsates above him. “Had no idea you wanted me this bad.”

Mingyu doesn’t even let you answer, flattening his tongue before licking a long stripe up your slit and forcing you to sit against him again with those strong hands. He moans again through your sigh of a response, unable to speak as he guides your body on him. His tongue is working wonders on you, causing your head to spin at the way he flicks his tongue against your hole before swirling it all the way up to your clit over and over again. No part of your core feels neglected, and the sensations he’s giving you is something you want to cling to.

For him, he wants nothing more than for you to use this to your advantage. He wants nothing more than for you to grind against his tongue and force the taste of you on him until he never forgets the feeling of your pussy on his lips. But this. This is enough, especially compared to how bold you were being before. Feeling your legs shake around his head only drives him to keep going. He wants to hear you, taste you, feel you. He wants you to know what it’s like to have a real man pleasure you.

He opts this time to grind your pussy forward until his nose is nuzzled against your clit and his tongue is teasing your entrance and he leaves you that way. Frantically moving his hand back to his cock and letting out a filthy groan against you as he finally gains his own friction again. You barely notice, feeling jolts of pleasure shoot through your body as you grind without intention this time, chasing the feeling in the same way he was guiding you.

When you do that, you feel him nod with a growl before slipping his tongue into you and tasting the way your walls clench even that. He sounds filthy and the fact that he seems to really enjoy that you’re doing this? It only drives you to actually ride his face, sliding back and forth, fucking yourself against his tongue until you slide all the way back just to see his face.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask, your pussy clenching at the image of him.

He doesn’t respond and instead looks at you with a face driven by arousal, his tongue dipping back into his mouth to taste, then sticking it out again for you to continue your pleasure on. When you don’t, he shakes his head and clears his throat a bit, attempting to answer you.

“Fuck, no. You could go harder sweetheart, come on.” He urges you, moving his hand faster against himself when you shyly blink at him, hovering your core above him just enough for him to lift his head and do it himself at your reluctance.

He frantically licks against you in a way that he’s never done before. Tongue slipping in and out of every crease and crevice to taste the entirety of you before fucking his tongue in once again when your weak grinds allow it. You watch his head move between your legs and you do your best to commit this image to your memory. You really get to sit on this man’s face, and he’s really just— fucking going insane for it like this?

Moaning out once again, you can feel your legs shake each time his nose bumps your clit, and you clench around his tongue each time he tries to essentially fuck you that way. It’s a lot, and god you’ve never been with a man who eats pussy like this. The way he moans through it, the way you can feel his arm jerking himself off, the way he occasionally tries to look up at you.

“Mingyu, I–” you try to say, letting your legs buckle and sitting flush against his tongue again, resuming the weak grinds you had offered before. “You should stop, before I–”

He taps your leg, causing you to lift a bit before he speaks out in an even raspier voice.

“Do it. On my tongue.” He pleads without letting you answer, shoving you by your ass directly back onto his mouth and somehow, licking you with even more pressure.

You can feel him nod when you jerk your hips on him, his free hand guiding you back and forth in a harsher way. His tongue fucks into you a few more times before he’s holding you in place, attaching his lips to your clit, and sucking so hard against it that you feel that wave of pleasure hit you like a bag of bricks.

He made it happen so fast, legs squeezing around his head as you jolt and stutter against his tongue that flattens out and bumps your clit. You hold yourself there, swirling your hips and drenching his mouth entirely. You clench around nothing, orgasming solely from clit stimulation and it makes your ears pop and ring as you work through it.

And by the time you’re done, you panic. Is he okay? You’re sure you squeezed his head with your legs too tightly, you sat too hard, and you rutted against his tongue until he couldn’t breathe.

Quickly, you slide off of his face, feeling embarrassed and quite frankly, apologetic that you did that but instead of finding a nearly choked out man, you see him lying there with a glistening face and a filthy fucking smile.

“You ride so well, sweetheart,” he compliments, quickly pulling his hand from his cock to prevent his own orgasm, “ you sounded so pretty like that.”

He thinks hard about this, knowing that this is probably what his son wishes he can do for you, but at this point, he’s not even sorry. The way you choke out quiet sobs of pleasure, the way your legs were shaking around him, the way you fucking tasted against his tongue. No, he gets to be selfish. Fuck all else, he’s going to let you ruin him.

“Lie back, babe.” He says gently, waiting for you to adjust yourself comfortably against the bed before pulling his sweats off of him and shivering at the cold air that hits his pre-cum soaked length. He looks at you as you lay there, grabbing a pillow and adjusting it under your head with a soft smile before touching your face.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, leaning to hover over you and running his hand down your waist.

Your eyes trail straight to the cock you hadn’t been able to actually see yet, seeing the way it glistens and twitches with the need to be touched. You want nothing more than for this man to plunge himself so deeply inside of you, that you can only say his name when you get fucked by anyone else.

His eyes watch yours as you stare between his legs and he easily slots himself between yours, fawning over the way your body heaves as you continue to catch your breath from that last orgasm.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, yet again gripping himself and pumping against his own length as he waits for you to answer.

You nod, rolling your hips and bumping your warm, saliva-soaked, pussy against the knuckles of his hand as he pumps himself. He loves how your neediness matches his own, and he coos at the way you say nothing but communicates solely through grinding against nothing for him to fill you up.

The chuckle he lets out at you is another thing you had thought about time and time again. Being laughed at, degraded. Mingyu is everything and nothing like what you imagined him to be, but he’s also making you feel better than you imagined too. You blink up at him, trying to muster the words for him, wanting to see the fire in his eyes ignite further than it already has.

“I like it rough, deep.”

Yeah, that did something for him, you can tell with the way he drops his head and immediately positions his length against you.

“How deep, sweetheart?” He asks, teasing your hole with the head of his cock and pressing in only slightly.

You roll your hips forward, enveloping his tip and smiling at him. You think he loses himself right then and there, pressing into you with one long and languid thrust, committing the feeling of your inner walls hugging his cock tightly to memory, pulsating around him until he bottoms out with a released sigh.

“So fucking deep,” he says more to himself then to you, holding himself above you and bracing one hand at the side of your head and the other on your waist. “Deeper.” He coos, angling himself slightly and pressing into you more somehow.

You can’t fucking breathe, feeling him, seeing him, smelling him. You’re actually fucking the Kim Mingyu right now. All of your wet dreams compiled into one fucking instance and it’s happening to you right now in the early morning hours while your recent crush is dozed off in the living room.

You clench, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep yourself from moaning as loud as you’d like to right now.

He waits for you to adjust, twitching inside of you and working up a sweat as he attempts to control himself until you’re ready for the second half of your request. You wanna be fucked deep, and you wanna be fucked rough? Lucky him, because he’s about three seconds from ruining the both of you out of sheer desperation to feel your pretty hole squeeze him through orgasm.

“And rough?” He whispers, leaning down and whispering against your ear. You can feel his grip on your waist tighten when he pulls his hips back, relieving the pressure inside of you before pressing in again.

The moan he lets out against your neck is honestly the best thing you think you’ve ever heard, your nipples perk up at the sound of him fucking you, and you do everything you can to encourage him to do just that.

You nod with a broken moan, desperate enough to have him pulling back to look at you as he slides out again, and then plunges into you once, hard. The way your body shifts up as his hips meet your thighs is enough to have him doing it again, and again. A string of hard, deep, and pointed thrusts sending little yelps out of your throat each time his hips spread your legs a bit more for him.

The hand on your waist moves up to your left nipple and he pinches it slightly before falling forward again, bracing himself on both arms at either side of your head. His rhythm sends him over the edge and makes him fuck into you even harder as he breathes out and rests his forehead against yours.

“Sweetheart?” he lets out between deep breaths, the sound of slapping echoing to the point that you hope it doesn’t wake up the sleeping boy in the other room, “hold onto me.”

You don’t know why that does it for you, but it fucking does. You didn’t even realize you needed something to hold on to until you released you were gripping the covers with tightened knuckles. Releasing the blankets, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Legs too,” he chuckles, licking against your bottom lip in a teasing kind of way.

Your legs shoot around him too, squeezing his body and pushing him to thrust into you in a way that keeps his cock almost completely buried into you, thrusting tightly. Only an inch or two leaving you before the head of his cock bumps the deepest part of your inner walls.

Feeling that, knowing that Mingyu’s cock is reaching where no cock has gone before, you tilt your chin up and connect your lips with him. The first heated kiss sends shockwaves through your body and causes you to clench so tightly around him, that he fucking growls into it rather than moaning.

His pointed thrusts grow tighter, faster, and your arms continue to hug and squeeze against him as your tongue swirls around his. Teeth clinking, his sweat dripping a bit to the point of even tasting a bit of that salt fall past his lips and against yours.

Both of you are fucking gone, deep breaths and deep thrusts, his cock is pressing against that spot inside of you and all you can do is fucking– you let go.

Your mouth falls slack against his own, and he continues to lick into your mouth until he realizes. Your pussy jolts around him and he pulls his head back, watching you fall into a state of bliss before he’s instantly shoving his hand between the tight space of your bodies and harshly rubbing your clit.

“Oh, baby,” he coos out in his own moan, the image of actually seeing you come sending him over the edge himself. “That’s it,” he moans again, chasing his own high and feeling dangerously close already, “So pretty, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

And there he goes too. You’re still riding out the last of your high when you feel him still his hips and press himself impossibly closer to you. He can feel your walls hug him, squeezing his come out of him in such a filthy way that he can’t help but whisper and babble out nonsense to you. Words of, you feel so good, i wanted this so badly, fuck yes–, fuck, fuck, just going to let me come in you like this?, fuck, oh, god.

It was a lot of nonsense, but to you and your dazed-out thoughts, it sounded like a mantra.

Even as the two of you laid there, fucked out and out of breath, neither of you felt any guilt. Why should you? Because you have (had) a crush on Chan? You’re not dating him, you’re an adult, and you can fuck whoever you want. Mingyu’s thought process is similar, though he’s sure the guilt will hit him later if anything were to happen.

The guilt did hit him later. He’d say around the time you stopped by three days after you spent the night to pick up your clothes.

Did he fuck you again? Yes. Right up against the washer in his tiny laundry room. Just as deep, but not as rough.

Is he only growing more weak towards you? Absolutely. Especially when you continue to find reasons to see him without Chan around.

Unsure of what the future holds between the two of you, Mingyu tries not to think of you as anything more than someone he casually has sex with. If you and Chan start dating, that’ll be fucking awkward, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to believe that will ever happen. Not when he’s already had you moaning his name, not when you wrap your arms around him the way you do.

― part two here!

#kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader

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slayfics · 25 days

Note

If you don’t mind me dropping a request for Katsuki headcanons then here I am…

(I know I’m in a whole other famdom right now and I don’t even simp for Bakugo (he’s yours he’s yours, I got a dif man 😉) but I’m bored and this is just an idea)

So.. what if Bakugo was dating a y/n that was just as much of an idiot as Kaminari 😥

If you haven’t done this already -

Katsuki dating a silly reader.

700 words~

Katsuki pretends to be annoyed by your air headedness but actually finds it adorable. He feels responsible for watching out for you.

He is quick to tell off anyone who insults you.

He secretly loves that you get along well with his friends.

However, he is insecure about the way Kirishima and Kaminari can have you rolling in laughter effortlessly. He won't ever mention it but it's apparent by the pout he has any time you're laughing at Kaminari's newest joke.

He loves the way you can cut through his seriousness and bring whimsy to his life. He doesn't know what he'd do without you. Heck, probably never smile again.

He is quick to catch you with any mistakes you make, albeit he scolds you for it.

He is overly tough with you when you spar, but it's only because he wants you to be as strong as you can be to take out any villains you face.

Katsuki's friends are constantly blown away by the things you get him to agree to do. Shopping at a dumb mall? Fine, he'll hold your bags. Going to an amusement park with way too many screaming kids? "Fine- if you really want to go." Singing along to a cheesy ass song? Mmm maybe, don't press your luck too far...

You brought back your food and sat at the outside table of the sports bar rejoining the boys. Music played as different sports ball games played on the various screens outside.

"Tch- why'd you two choose this place anyway? None of us give a damn about these games," Katsuki said huffing and gesturing to the TVs.

"It's the only place that's in the middle of all our places," Denki explained, as you began to take bites of your food.

"Mmm I guess- the food is shit though," Katsuki continued to complain but took a bite of his food all the same.

The song changed to an easily recognizable tune: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Your and Eijiro's eyes immediately locked. The first verse synced up between the both of you as you sang.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit lonely

And you're never coming 'round

"No, stop." Katsuki huffed at you both beginning to sing. However, Katsuki's annoyance was only met with Denki joining in on the next verse.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit tired

Of listening to the sound of my tears

"Are you kidding me," Katsuki complained hiding his face in his hand. Which let Hanta know it was his turn to chime in. The four of you now had a choir.

Turn around~

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous

That the best of all the years have gone by

You three continued to sing increasing your enthusiasm with each lyric. Feeding off one another's enthusiasm.

Turn around, bright eyes~

Every now and then I fall apart

"Come on Bakugo, you know this song," Denki said nudging him during the instrumental part of the song.

"Hell no you're out of your mind!" Katsuki yelled. "Shut the hell up you four- you're making a scene."

"Awe~ Come on Kats~" You encouraged him. "You gotta do the next part with us!"

Katsuki eyed you irritated as Eijiro swayed back and forth in his seat matching Denki's dance movements.

You and the boys began singing back as the lyrics picked up again. This time, even louder and more enthusiastic than before.

And I need you now tonight

And I need you more than ever

And if you hold only hold me tight

We'll be holding on forever.

Then to all your surprise, Katsuki chimed into the last verse with you all.

I really need you tonight

Forever's gonna start tonight

Katsuki talked out, his version of singing, while you four sang as loud as ever.

"Let's go Kacchan," Denki laughed clapping his hands together in excitement.

"Awe so cute- you'd do anything they asked," Eijiro said with a giggle earning himself a bark from Katsuki.

"SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!"

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs

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lacroixwh0r3 · 7 months

Text

The First Taste (p.2)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's the second day at the lake and you meet some people that live in the neighborhood.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON (sorta? Just gonna leave it to be safe), heavy sexual tension, pet names, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), voyeurism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, Bill, Frank, and Tess appearance, use of Y/N (1x), jealousy, degradation, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): Skin by Mac Miller

PART 1 PART3

A/N: I am sooo sorry for taking so long with this one, life has been crazy and weird, but I already have plans for the next part hehe. Also, this is probably all over the place...I wrote some parts of this high lol

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy my pookies!<3

Trying to act normal around Joel was a bit of a struggle for you.

It was the second day of the trip and he was completely normal during breakfast—he laughed and joked with everyone, seeming a little more lively than the day before. It didn't seem like he had seen or heard anything last night. And if he did, he was being very closed—lipped about the whole thing, which you were grateful about that because you'd probably die from embarrassment.

Sarah had done the honors of waking up early and making breakfast this morning, which consisted of pancakes and eggs. It was something simple and everyone enjoyed it, meanwhile, you could hardly touch your plate. Not because the food wasn't good, but because you were too occupied with staring at Sarah's dad, the man you had fantasized about the night before. It seemed that no one was even paying attention so you assumed that no one would notice your lingering eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria had quickly caught onto your crush on the older Miller brother, yet she never said anything. Not even to Tommy, her husband. She sat there quietly as she watched you watching him. She really thought nothing of it other than a simple crush and from what she could tell from Joel's stoic attitude, the feelings were not mutual. However, Maria didn't know that Joel was beginning to grow a desire for you—he could hide it better than you.

You were glad that Sarah has been too busy typing away on her phone to even pay attention.

“Y’all had fun last night?” Joel asked as he peered over at the three that went out last night, but mainly looking over at Maria.

Joel was interested in their night, but he also knew how Tommy was after a few drinks. After Tommy and Maria had gotten married, it was obvious that he matured, but he still had his moments.

“It was lots of fun—there was good live music and good drinks there,” Maria said to him as the other two just nodded their heads in agreement.

"We actually ran into Bill and Frank while we were there, they were with a friend...what was her name again?" Tommy asked as he tried to recall the unknown woman's name.

Joel didn't know much about Bill and Frank outside of the fact that they were married and lived next door. During the very brief encounter with the two yesterday, he could tell that Frank was the outgoing one out of the two and Bill was more reserved and not too keen on strangers—Joel didn't blame him, he was the same way too.

"Her name was Tess." Your father reminded Tommy as he took a quick sip of his coffee.

"Right, it was Tess!" Tommy said before speaking up again, "I think you'd like her, Joel...she's your type." he said slowly to his older brother.

This instantly piqued everyone's interest—Sarah's head had snapped up from her phone, while your eyebrows raised with surprise. Joel didn't need any convincing because he instantly shook his head after Tommy said that, letting him know that he wasn't interested.

"Oh come on, Dad!"

"You can't be serious."

"Joel!"

With these responses from Sarah, your dad, and Tommy at the same, Joel scowled at them. Meanwhile, you just sat there silently as you picked at the food on your plate with your fork. For some reason, you were happy that Joel had turned down Tommy's suggestion.

"Tommy is right, Joel, I think you and her would get along well and she's beautiful," Maria shrugged at Joel. "You should meet her and get to know her first."

He hadn't dated in a very long time and hadn't been interested in dating either. He decided that he would agree to get everyone off his back

"Fine, I'll meet her," Joel said as he put his head down and looked up at you. From the corner of Joel's eyes, he can see his daughter and Tommy high-five each other from across the table, while you looked at him with an unreadable expression.

You didn't think that he would agree that easily, but it didn't matter. You couldn't get jealous over someone who isn't yours.

"Great! Tommy and I will go over there to invite them over for this evening and we'll be sure to tell them to invite Tess," Maria winks at Joel.

Before Joel could respond, he was interrupted by Sarah's phone. it began to blow up with messages by the second. Sorry—she said as tried to silence it until eventually, the person called her, making her answer the phone before telling the person on the other line to hold on. Joel was about to scold her until she cut him off, "I gotta take this, I'll be right back. Girl problems!" she tells him with a sheepish expression as she hopped off her chair and started to loudly to talk to the person on the phone as she walked up the stairs to her room.

You all heard her yell into the phone to her friend about some boy before her words became intelligible. You stifled your laugh as you watched the look of defeat washed over Joel's face and he shook his head.

"That girl," Joel whispered, making everyone at the table laugh a bit. When he heard you laugh, he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, and you did the same.

The split moment between the two of you was briskly intervened by your dad.

"What did you two get into last night?"

You were about to make up some bullshit lie about what you had done last night before you stopped yourself and began to internally freak out because you remembered that Joel caught you smoking weed yesterday and he could easily tell your dad right now if he wanted to. You looked over at Joel with silent pleading eyes not to tell your dad what he saw, but he just looked at you with a blank stare as he proceeded to answer your dad's question.

"Nothing really, I think this one found out there's a balcony connected to her room, you should ask her about it," Joel said before finishing the rest of his food on his plate as he looked over at you. You felt everyone turn their attention to you, making you feel like your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest after Joel said that.

"Oh yeah? How was it, honey?" Your dad asked.

You felt like you had the words guilty written across your forehead, lying was not your strongest suit. You looked around the table and gulped down your spit, noting how amused Joel looked as he watched you become a nervous wreck.

You realized how insane you must've looked at that moment and cleared your throat before speaking up, "it was cool," you said in a composed manner.

"It was just 'cool'?" Your dad asked you, confused by your short response.

There you go again, embarrassing yourself in front of Joel.

"I mean the view was really nice from there, I liked it a lot," you shrugged. Your dad let out a hum, letting you know he was a little more satisfied with your response, making you relax. You looked over at Joel to see him looking at you with a discreet smug look on his face.

...

You had eventually finished their breakfast, to which Joel offered to wash everyone's dishes. Your dad got up from the table with a groan as he grumbled about going to the couch to rest for a bit, while Tommy and Maria headed over to Bill and Frank's house.

You decide to help Joel bring the dishes over to the sink.

"I can help you with that," You tell Joel as placed the mugs down and stood next to him by the sink, grabbing the drying towel that sat on the counter before looking up at him

"I got this, darlin'. You go sit and relax yourself," he said reassured you, yet you made no attempt to move. You shamelessly checked out Joel, watching as he focused on the dish, not even sparing you a glance. He could feel your gaze on him, but he said nothing to you. You peaked down and saw as he gripped the plate with his strong hand as the other rubbed the soap around the plate, the suds were dripping down his wet hand.

You pushed whatever thoughts that were about to appear in your head and looked back up at Joel. "It's fine, Joel. You wash, I'll dry," You tell him. He stops scrubbing before looking back at you, letting out a sigh, and going back to what he was doing.

You said nothing to him as you dried the dishes and Joel said nothing to you as well. There was this weird, awkward tension that lingered between you two. You got a feeling that Joel wanted to say something, he was just waiting on the right time to say it. You decided to break the silence first.

"Thanks for-um-for not saying anything to my dad, by the way,"

"That was nothing, sweetheart. Didn't wanna get you in trouble," was all he said. You weren't sure what to say after that so it went back to being silent.

Joel rinsed off the plate then passed it to you before clearing his throat and speaking up. "So, uh, how'd you sleep last night?" He asked you lowly and passed the plate to you. As you open your mouth to respond and go to reach for the plate, your body stills and your words get stuck in your throat. You had registered what he had said to you.

He was so casual with his words; to anyone else in this house, it didn't seem like anything, it was just Joel asking about you. However, you both knew there was a deeper meaning.

Joel new favorite thing was making you flustered-saying things to you that would catch you off guard and just leaving you hanging. He absolutely loved it.

"Oh come one, sweetheart, I asked you a question. It would be rude not to answer me," he said teasingly as he pushed the plate toward you some more so that you could take it.

You slowly reach for it as you watched him from the corner of your eyes, afraid to even turn your head to him. "I-I slept pretty well. Wha-what about you?" You asked him. You were nervous as hell and you could feel your hands shaking, so you decided to start drying the wet plate in your hand to cover it up.

"Me too, sweetheart," he said to you. You thought that was going to be the end of that conversation, but no, he kept going. "You know what though?" He asked you before turning to face you, got close, and bent his head down slightly to catch your eyes, but never did because your eyes were laser-focused on the now dry plate in your hand. You could feel his warm body close to yours.

"I was sitting on that balcony last night and heard some strange noises comin' from your room, had t'make sure you were alright before I went to bed." He said as he began to speak you again, "but I'm sure you were too busy to notice, right, darlin'?"

Kill me, you thought to yourself, just fucking kill me.

He was right, you were too busy too notice, but you refused to admit that to Joel. Just as you were about to lie to him again, you think back to the night before when he had called you out on lying to him about smoking.

You sat the plate down with the other plates and looked up at Joel, "I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently as you turn your head to look at him and gave a tight, faux smile, which he returned as well.

This motherfucker.

"Mmm, I'm sure you don't, sweetheart." He says before the phony smile dropped from his face as he got closer to you. Your eyes flicker over to where your dad was sitting, making sure that he didn't see what was going on, before going back to Joel's dark ones.

"But I know what I saw when I looked in that room. I saw the way you fingering that wet cunt, moaning my name," he whispered to you menacingly. You suddenly feel his damp finger gliding across the back of your arm, causing goosebumps to spread around your body. You tried to move put some distance between the two of you, but he followed. "Cummin' all over those fingers while you thought of me."

There is no way your dad's friend is admitting that he watched you finger fuck yourself, while you moaned his name at that. It didn't feel real to you.

You had yet to say anything back to Joel, so he kept going. "Made me cum so hard in my hand. I couldn't help myself, you looked so perfect touching yourself." Instantly, you gasped loudly before looking over at your dad again, and luckily he wasn't paying a lick of attention. The sound of the running water must've covered it up.

Joel's confession should've disgusted you, but it didn't—in fact, it turned you on a lot. Some sick part of you liked that he jerked off while watching you.

Finally, you had gotten the courage to speak up. "You're a sick fucking bastard, Joel," you told him as you push his arm from you and your face scrunched with false disgust. "A sick pervert," You spit out at him as you turn your body to him and point close to his face.

You refused to feed his ego, which was already inflated.

Your words did nothing to him, not even a little bit. "Oh, honey..." he said as his large hand rested on your lower back, "You were the one moanin' my name last night, but I'm the pervert? Now that ain't fair," Joel smirked.

You scoff before you speak again. "Get your hands off me now before I tell my dad."

Instead of letting you go, Joel pulls you into his body, making your hands come up to his chest so you can push away. Still, he didn't budge and kept pulling you closer to the point you could feel the hardness of his cock against your stomach.

What a sick man he is.

"Do it, baby, and I'll tell 'em all about what I saw and heard last night," he says as his hand drifts down to get a quick squeeze of your ass.

"You liked thinkin' about me fuckin' you? Makin' you squirm while you cum all over my fat cock." He whispered. You saw how Joel's eyes darkened with desire as he said this. Truthfully, it was giving you a strong indescribable feeling deep down in your stomach, reaching your core.

For a brief moment, the disgusted expression on your face faltered, your eyes had batted open and shut, and you let out a shaky sigh as you looked up at Joel—hopeful that he hadn't seen your quick moment of weakness. Except, he did. You looked back up at him only to see him deeply observing your face with a small smirk on his face as if he had just accomplished something great.

"You liked that?" He asked you cockily with his hand still resting on your ass. You just rolled your eyes at him as you tried to push yourself away from him a second time. "You like it when I talk to you like that?"

You didn't even have to answer him because he already knew the answer.

"You need to let me go before someone catches us, Joel," You tried to change the subject, but this only made his smirk bigger.

"Aw come on, sweetheart, no one is gonna see us," Joel insisted before looking over at your dad. "They're all doin' their own thing

His actions after this had caught you off guard.

You can feel his big hand trail up your body, while his other one still rested on your ass to keep you close to him; going from the back of your waist to the front and going up to your breasts, giving them a quick, firm squeeze as he cupped them over your shirt. You whimpered as you looked down at the sight between you and looked back up at him.

Joel's hand moved up again, but this time he wrapped his fingers around your neck. He loved the softness of your neck against his rough calloused hand.

His long fingers flexed around your neck, growing firmer as he held your face up at an angle just under your jaw as he bent down. "Or I can take you upstairs if you want..." Joel's grip tightened some more. "Make sure to take my time with you, darlin'," He said as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Not because of his hand around your throat—Joel made sure he wasn't choking you to death, but because of his words.

Joel had this seductive nature about him and it was obvious that he knew how to use it to his full advantage. He could probably get you to do anything he wanted.

Fuck—you couldn't believe that you were actually thinking about saying yes to Joel after the way he spoke to you. But again, there was some sick part of you that got a kick out of the way he spoke to you. You weren't exactly sure what it was about Joel that you allowed him to speak to you this way, but if this were anyone else, you were sure that you would have absolutely freaked out on them.

"Fuck, Joel," you whined as you felt him inhale the scent of your perfume that you spritzed a little below your ear earlier this morning.

"Mmm, you smell so good, baby, just wanna taste you," He murmured, taking in your scent. His mouth was so close to your neck, you wanted him to place his plush lips onto it. You wanted to feel the prickly feeling of his facial hair on your neck while he sucked, licked, and kissed it.

"Sweetheart!" You heard your dad call out, instantly pulling you out of the half-conscious state that Joel had you in. Your eyes shot wide open as quickly pushed Joel away from you, making release your neck and causing him almost fall to the ground as he stumbled back. Shit—he cursed out as he caught himself. You really didn't mean to push him that hard, but you were deathly afraid of your dad catching sight of his closest friend choking his daughter behind his back.

"Uh-yeah? I mean, yes, dad?"" You said as you scrambled to fix your clothes and make yourself seem as normal as possible. The adrenaline rush made you feel like your heart was damn near beating out of your chest and made your hands shake with fear.

"Y'all still ain't done with the dishes yet?" He asked, making you tried to voice out some lame excuse, but was unable to. Instead, all you could do was make these odd sounds.

"Anyway, you don't mind gettin' me a glass of water, do you? This damn headache won't go away," he groaned out. You felt relief at the fact that he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice.

"N-No, I'll-uh-get it for you in a sec," You told him as you looked over at Joel. He just looked at you with a faint worrisome expression on his face—his breathing was just as hard. You gave him an apologetic look before getting the glass of water for your dad.

You made no attempt to look at Joel as you brushed past him, you were too ashamed to look his way. Your hand was still trembling as you walked over to your dad, who was sprawled out on the couch, and handed him the water.

"Here you go,"

"Thanks, sweetheart!" He gave you a weak smile before downing the water, to which you returned as well. You plopped down next to your dad on the large couch as you heard Joel shut the water off in the kitchen and shuffled his way up the stairs.

You sat there feeling guilty as your dad talked to you about whatever was on his mind.

Even though you and Joel didn't go all the way, it still wasn't right to think of him in that way or allow him to do those things to you. You decided that you were going to stop thinking about joel for good.

...

Bill and Frank were great, though Frank was a little more lively. The moment you greeted them Frank gave you a quick side hug with a bright smile on his face, which caught you be surprise, and Bill just stood awkwardly next his husband as he introduced himself to everyone.

And then there was Tess.

You along with Sarah watched the painful sight in front of you as her and Joel introduced themselves to each other. You tried not to listen to their conversation, but you were curious and you couldn't help it. They barely speaking a word to each other besides saying their names and where they were from, which made you a little happy because it meant Joel wasn't interested.

Thank god.

"Well, that was a fail," you heard Sarah say not-so quietly, making you let out a chuckle.

Then Tess came over to us, making you both straighten up. From the moment you met her, she was nothing but nice to you and Sarah. She introduced herself to the two of you, smiled, and shook your hands.

"I'm Sarah, Joel's daughter," Sarah beamed at her.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Tess smiled warmly at the young girl before turning to you, "And what's your name, sweetheart?" She asked. Her calling you sweetheart caught you by surprise honestly.

"Oh, i'm Y/N...that man right there is my dad," you said as you pointed to your father who was a little behind Tess, making her laugh a bit.

"Well, it's lovely meeting you as well." She softly stroked your arm, causing you to tremble with nervousness. Just as she finished her sentence, your dad and Tommy suggested that all the older adults go and hang out in the back while there was still light, to which they all agreed.

"Hopefully I'll catch up with you girls later?" she asked. Sarah and you just nodded your head before she gave the two of you one last smile before walking to the back.

That was weird, you thought for a moment.

"Tess seems nice," you said now that the house was completely silent, making Sarah nod her head in agreement.

"Yeah, she did, too bad my dad didn't seem interested in her," she shook her head, "anyway, what do you wanna do now that it's just us?"

"Mmm," You tried to think about what you could do with her, "I think Maria has some cookie dough in the fridge, you wanna bake cookies and play card games?" You asked the young girl.

"Sure!"

The two of you walked to the kitchen—you grabbed the cookie dough from the fridge and the baking sheet from the bottom cabinet. "You mind preheating the oven?"

Sarah walked over to the oven before staring at it, confused on how to use it. "Um, I think you're gonna have to do it. I'm not sure how to even work this thing," she turned to you.

You let out a giggle as you go to preheat the oven. After you did that, you stood next to Sarah as you both began to place cookies onto the baking sheet.

"You know we're gonna have to make a lot, right?" Sarah giggles out.

"And why is that?"

"My dad is obsessed with chocolate chip cookies," She confessed to you, "he'd probably eat them all if you let him."

This made you laugh.

Joel Miller liking chocolate chip cookies came to somewhat as a surprise to you. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy sweets, but according to his daughter he did and you found it cute.

Once you two had finished putting the last pieces of cookie dough on the sheet, you picked it up and went to open the oven. "Can you put on a time for 15 minutes, please?" You asked her as you place them into the oven.

"Sure," Sarah then began the timer for the cookies right as you closed the oven.

"So what was up with that phone call you got earlier? Sounded pretty serious," you asked her as you sat down at the island next to her.

Sarah lets out a loud sigh before talking, "where do I even start," she groaned. She began to tell you all about the drama amongst her friend group—supposedly, her best friend, Lillian, got with their ex-best friend's current boyfriend and now it's a whole situation. Sometimes you would ask a question or even give your two cents about the situation.

"And you wanna know the kicker to all this? Him and Lillian used to date last year and our ex-best friend got with him while they were dating, so we kicked her out the friend group," Sarah tells you. As soon as you let out a dramatic gasp, the alarm for the fifteen minutes had went off.

You got up and went to the oven, "wait, why would Lillian get back with him again? That doesn't seem smart," You say as you grab the mits from the countertop and took the cookies out the oven.

"I don't know," Sarah sighs out, you couldn't help but to laugh at her frustration at the situation.

Teenagers are so funny.

"You guys are crazy," You tell her as you, "You should tell your friend to leave him alone, he seems like bad news,"

"I have, but she doesn't listen," Sarah said in a disappointed tone.

You just shrugged your shoulders, "cookies are done, we just gotta let them cool for a bit,"

Just as you were letting the cookies cool down, Sarah asked you about your high school experience. You began to tell her all about it—your friend group was small and you mostly stayed to yourself throughout the whole time there. You made sure to focus on your school work rather than getting wrapped up in the silly drama or with boys.

Bill walks into the house and asked where the bathroom was, which you point him to the direction where it was and he went on with his business.

A few minutes later, as you and Sarah were munching on the soft chocolate chip cookies, Bill comes back from the bathroom, "It smells delicious in here," he mumbles as he makes his way to the door.

"You can have some if you would like, Bill? We made sure to make enough for everyone," You told him as you give him a small smile.

"I shouldn't," he said reluctantly, but you quickly reassured him that he could have some if he wanted.

"Well if you insist," Bill grabs a napkin before taking two cookies and said a low thanks as he made his way outside with them.

"I bet they're all gonna come in here to get cookies," Sarah laughs as she finished up her cookie.

And she was right.

They all eventually crowded into the kitchen around the island as they devoured the cookies, nearly eating them all. In between their chews, they spoke loudly to each other.

You tried to engage in with conversation with them, but you were too busy watching Joel. You watched as he had his right arm wrapped loosely around his daughter's shoulders while the other one brought cookies up to his mouth—he looked relax right now.

And sexy too.

You didn't see that Tess was next to you until she spoke up.

"Thank you for the cookies by the way, they were really good," She said to you with a kind smile on her face as she looked at you. Her eyes lingered on your face for a little

"Oh-thanks! I-It was nothing really, we were just really bored and needed something to do," You laughed awkwardly, squirming with nervousness. You couldn't even make eye contact with her while speaking to her.

Tess made you feel nervous in ways that you couldn't describe. Not as nervous as Joel makes you, but close.

"No problem, sweetie,"

...

You were starting to fucking hate this.

Sitting here and pretending to not be affected by watching Joel flirt with the hot, older woman made you want to flip your shit.

You hated to admit it, but your dad and Tommy was right—Tess absolutely was Joel's type. She's hot, smart, a tough woman, yet she was kind, and most importantly, she is close in age to Joel. She was also kind of like the female version of Joel.

At first, there was this awkward tension between Tess and Joel that was almost hilarious to you, but it quickly dissolved as the evening progressed and the drinks began going, making it no longer funny to you.

You had to remind yourself that you decided to back off of Joel that morning, but whatever was happening between the two quickly made you forget about it.

After a little while of being around them in the kitchen after baking the cookies, you sat down on the couch to unwind for a bit. However, that quickly ended when Joel and Tess decided to join on the couch right across from you.

While everyone was still sitting around the kitchen island, listening to music and laughing, you were sipping on your beer and looking at them with no expression on your face.

You didn't even like beer, you just needed something to drink on right now.

Joel was relaxed as he spoke to her, with his muscular thighs spread wide open as he held onto the beer in between them while the other arm rested on the head of the couch. He looked so relaxed and comfortable talking to her.

Sometimes, your eyes would sweep down his body, causing you to catch sight of his pants-covered bulge. You weren't going to lie and say that you weren't looking because you absolutely were.

Next to him was Tess, she sat closely to him with her legs folded up on the couch as she faced Joel, giving him her undivided attention. They both spoke in hushed whispers to each other, occasionally letting out some laughs.

She looked so beautiful as she sat there attentively listening to Joel as she gave him a smirk and flipped her long hair to the side, giving him a view of her neck.

God, you hated how jealous this made you.

And the worst part of this all is that he hadn't given you an ounce of attention since she got here. Ever since the incident in the kitchen this morning, he was distant and didn't pay you any mind—matter-of-fact, Joel just pretended that you didn't exist and that made you even more mad. Whenever you were around, he would avoid eye contact with you.

While you were staring down Joel and Tess, Sarah had suddenly appeared next to you as she plopped down on the seat next to you.

"You alright?" She asked you as you took another sip of your beer. "You look pissed right now."

Was it that obvious? If Sarah can notice the look on your face, that meant so did everyone else.

"Oh, me? I'm good, just some boy problems back at college," You lied to Sarah so she wouldn't know the real reason you looked mad.

Okay—was all she said to you, sounding unconvinced, but didn't push any further.

"My dad and Tess look pretty comfortable now," She leaned over and whispered to you. "Never seen him this way with a woman before,"

Honestly, this didn't seem surprising to you at all.

From the way Joel seemed reluctant to even get to know Tess earlier and the awkwardness when she had gotten here made it very apparent to you. Had you not seen any of this, you would've thought that he was quite the ladies man from the way he spoke to you whenever the two of you were alone.

"Interesting," was all you said as you took a sip of your beer again.

"Anyway, you wanna go to my room and watch a movie?" Sarah asked. "I'm gettin' bored of them already," You laughed and nodded your head in agreement and began to get off the couch, still watching the two across from you. Still, Joel continued to talk to the lady without even spairing you a glance.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the steps to go upstairs.

Fuck Joel.

...

It was getting late and Sarah eventually fell asleep a some time after you started the second movie. She was knocked out cold. You were tired as well, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either so you decided to go to your room for the night.

Before quietly slipping out of Sarah's room, you made sure to put the blanket over her and turn off the tv. Afterwards you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, which was just a tank top and your underwear, before getting into bed.

For a while, you laid in the dark and scroll through Instagram while you blasting music through your headphones. You were tired, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either.

You suddenly felt the vibrations of a door slamming shut and heard the muffled sounds as well, making you yank your headphones off. It almost scared you to death.

You waited a moment to hear for any sounds that might follow up after. It was silent for the most part besides the sound of Joel's heavy footsteps next door, he must be getting ready for bed. You also assumed that Bill, Frank, and Tess had went back to their place because you didn't hear the music playing downstairs anymore or the sound of them talking loudly.

You were about to put your headphones back on until you heard Joel start to talk. You thought that he must've been on the phone or talking to himself until you heard the tone of a females voice—it was Tess. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you hear them talking back and forth to each other.

At this point, you were holding your breath as you tried to eavesdrop, completely interested as to what they were doing in Joel's room together.

Joel must've said something funny to Tess because she laughed fairly loud at whatever he said.

He isn't that funny, you begrudgingly thought to yourself.

One of them flopped down on the bed, causing the bed to creak and the headboard hit against the wall. And because the beds were on the same wall, you could hear almost everything. They continued to talk for a while until it went completely silent and the bed creaked again.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions because you weren't sure what was going on in that room and you and Joel aren't anything so it really shouldn't matter to you. You also felt weird sitting there in the dark, snooping on Joel and Tess so you decided to try and get some sleep.

You readjusted in the bed and closed your eyes—occasionally tossing and turning because it felt like there was a million thoughts going through your mind right now.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard faint sounds of the bed screeching and the headboard thumping against the wall. The sounds were unbroken until Tess lets out a low moan, causing the noise to come to an abrupt stop and Joel shushes her.

He was fucking her and you were hearing it.

Joel says something to her and the noise continues again, this time it was a little fast. Your heart was beating against your chest just as fast, if not faster. The sound of your heart beating almost muted the sounds of Joel and Tess fucking.

Joel's grunts got a little louder as Tess lets out a few fucks here and there along with a couple moans. You listen closely to the plap-plap-plap sound that were smothered by the wall.

There's no way that you were the only one hearing this because they were not quiet.

It probably would've been best if you put your headphones back on, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. There was something about it that made you furious, yet aroused. It shouldn't have, but it did and so much to the point that you felt a throb begin to form at your core.

You needed to relieve the ache somehow and suddenly this bright idea popped into your head. You slipped your underwear off and threw them somewhere off the bed before grabbing a pillow as you get onto your knees on the bed and tucked in the sides a bit, and straddled it.

You began to steadily rocking your hips back and forth, feeling your folds grind against the pillow and the wetness spreading as you became increasingly wet, as you tried to match the pace. Quiet whimpers escaped your mouth though you were trying to stay silent.

You felt like a creep listening to them and you knew you would feel ashamed of your actions later, but right now you didn't care, you just wanted to touch yourself.

At that moment, you thought back to earlier, remembering the way that Joel sat on the couch, sprawled out as he talked to Tess. You imagined him under you, seated the same way while you were on top of him grinding against his hard cock. His warm, rough hands would be gripping at your waist underneath your tank top, as he guided your hips. One of his hands would trail up to your braless breast and cup it while he would thumb at your erect nipple.

You grab onto the headboard, picturing it was his shoulders you were holding onto.

"Feel so good, daddy," You breathed out as if he were actually under you. "Makin' me feel soo good,"

"Atta girl, you like grindin' your pussy against this cock? Huh, baby?" he would ask you before letting out a loud grunt as he tried to hold back from cumming over his stomach and between your thighs.

Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you imagined this and your hips move faster against the pillow, making the headboard hit the wall harder.

"Yes, Joel," you moaned out as if he were actually there, not even realizing how loud you were.

You assumed you weren't being loud at all, but in actuality, you were. Tess and Joel had heard everything from the moment you started. Due to the wall and the fact that you were just so caught up in your own fantasies, you couldn't even hear them talking about you.

"S-she can hear us, Joel," Tess groaned out to Joel, but not once did Joel stop his thrust. He kept going because knowing that you were pleasuring yourself turned him on.

"Yeah? Let her hear," Joel purred as he felt Tess pulse around his cock. His thrust got faster, intensifying the harsh sound of the frame striking against the neighboring wall.

Just on the other side of the wall, you were hunched over listening to them and humping against the poor pillow. "P-Please, daddy, don't stop," You shook your head as you go to grip the pillow under you so you could get more friction. You could feel the sweat dripping down your face from how intense this whole thing was, but you didn't dare to stop.

You were barely listening to Joel and Tess anymore as you were close to your orgasm.

"Don't fuckin' stop," your torso was stiff as you opened your legs wider and pushed your core down on the pillow harder. Your toes wiggled and curled as you were seconds away from cumming. You whimpered Joel mindlessly the closer you got.

You needed this badly, you need him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cumming," was the last thing you rasped before biting down on your lip. Not once did you stop nor slowed down the thrust of your hips as you shook with pleasure. You kept going as you chased your climax, hardly even breathing.

Right after you, Joel came shortly after.

"Aw, fuck!" he grunted loudly as he held onto Tess' hips. His seed spilling into the condom. Because his thoughts were so hazy at the moment and the only thing he could think of you, he nearly moaned out your name while fucking Tess, but thankfully he stopped himself before it could roll off his tongue.

"Shit, Joel," Tess groaned, cumming around his cock. Joel stayed behind her for a moment, still holding onto her buckling hips.

Eventually, Joel pulls out and collapses next to her before pulling the condom from his cock, tying it, and sat it on the nightstand. Tess does the same. They both say nothing to each other as they lay there.

Joel wondered what you were doing now.

Meanwhile, you were still trying to catch your breath, still holding onto the headboard as you tried to calm yourself.

You heard the talking as they got out the bed and moved around the room to put on their clothes you assumed.

Finally, Joel's door opens and you can hear them walking out of the room and go down stairs.

The front door opens as they quietly exchanged a few words to each other.

Joel eventually shuts the door and makes his way back upstairs. Once again, you could hear his heavy footsteps as he trot up the steps.

You decided that once he goes back in his room, you were going to dash to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on yourself.

You were about to get out of the bed so you could clean yourself until heard Joel's feet about to shuffle past your door before he stopped right in front of it. You sat down on the middle of the bed, waiting for him to go to his room.

Joel hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should knock on your door, but he decided to do it anyway.

Joel's hard knuckles knocks at your door making your body go stiff. You were going to pull the blanket over your body and answer him, but you decided to pretend to act like you were sleeping.

You thought that this worked until your door suddenly swung open, revealing the large outline of Joel Miller. You scrambled to pull the duvet over the bare bottom-half of your body, hoping that he didn't see anything.

He stood there a moment before speaking up. "You good, sweetheart?" Joel asked you. He obviously knew you were awake.

It took you a few seconds before you replied as you were trying to calm your beating heart after he scared you. "Yeah, i'm fine, Joel," you said, thinking that he would just fuck off and go back to his room, he didn't. Instead, he came fully walked into the room and closed the door behind himself before making his way over to the bed.

"W-What the hell are you doing, Joel?" You asked him, caught off guard that he would just come in here.

Joel was going to speak until he realized something got caught onto his slipper as he approached the edge of your bed, making him suddenly stop and look down. Because it was dark in the room, he could tell what it was, but it was obvious that it was a piece of clothing. He bends down and grabs it, feeling a slight dampness to it before coming back up and holding the material out in front of him.

Joel goes to flick on the lights and your heart flutters when you see what he was holding. You look at Joel with a panic look on your face and see that he had this surprise, yet smug expression on his face.

It was your fucking underwear that you threw off.

"Look what we have here, sweetheart," He says as he walks closer to the bed, making you clutch the duvet closer to your body. "These yours?" He asked you even though he knew the answer.

"Can you put them down, please?" You pleaded with him silently as your face burned with embarrassment. He doesn't answer you, instead he brings the damp fabric up to his nose and inhales your scent, closing his eyes as he took it in. You let out a squeak, surprised that he was doing this.

Again, if this were anyone else you'd probably be creeped out by this, but there was something about Joel that made you want him badly.

"Smells so fuckin' good," he says as he pulled them away from his nose. You just look at him, mouth agape as he opens his eyes, balls up your panties into his hand, and sits on the edge of the bed. As if your grip couldn't get any tighter, you pull at the duvet again, hoping that Joel wasn't seeing anything under it. He immediately noticed you doing this and looked at you curiously with his dark eyes, making you feel nervous.

"What's under the blanket, baby?"Joel asked as he pointed at your lap.

You shook your head and avoided eye contact with him, "please don't make me do this, Joel," you begged him again, but he didn't budge one bit.

"Oh come on. Be a good girl and show me what you're hiding under there," He said sternly. You didn't need much convincing because you quickly gave into his demand. You slowly move the blanket off of you, shaking as the feeling the air hits between your legs.

Joel groans at the sight. "Baby, look at you," his deep southern voice says so softly as he brings his warm on on top of your thigh, making your thighs clench together.

"No no no, you don't close those legs unless I tell you, you understand me?" You nodded your head and let him pull your legs open.

"So beautiful up close," He groans out. His hand moved to the inside of your thigh and slid up, making you whimper. Your core throbbed again, longing for him, but he never did.

"Touch me, daddy, please." You whispered to him, so desperately.

"Mmm, not tonight, baby," He says, while his fingers continued to tease you. "Can you do somethin' for me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, Joel," you said and nodded your head without a second thought, ready to do anything he asked you.

"I want you to show me how you were touchin' yourself when you were listenin' to me and Tess,"

You stilled once he said this, you didn't know that he heard you moaning. "W-what?"

"Don't be so surprised, girl. You weren't bein' very quiet." He teased you before speaking up again. "Now, I want you to show me,"

You sat there for a moment, embarrassed that you were about to do this in front of Joel. You grab the cum-soaked pillow before getting up onto your knees on the bed and stradling it, trying not to look at him.

"Look at me." He orders. You look at him, feeling nervous as he watched you with his intense gaze. "Now, ride the pillow. Slowly."

At first, you were reluctant as you began to slowly grind against the pillow, so embarrassed at the moment that you couldn't even enjoy the pleasure. And the look on Joel's face made you want to die.

He brings his hand onto your thigh making your stop, "Relax yourself," he mutters.

You nod your head before you let out a loud sigh. You try to calm yourself down before you lean forward, making your back arch and held onto the pillow with one hand while the other kept you up.

You began to move your hips, this time feeling a little more comfortable as you did so. You let out a weak whine as the pillow grazed against your wet clit.

"Good, darlin', go a lil faster now,"

You didn't need any convincing with that, you instantly went faster, making the bed frame to knock against the wall.

Joel's cock jumped in his pants as he watched you with greed in his eyes. He wished he could take you right there, make you weep and bite into the pillow as he pounded into your wet pussy.

"Look at ya, humping that pillow like a slut," he groaned, thinking about you riding him the same way. "You like being a slut, don't you?" Joel asked you.

"Mmhmm—I love it so f-fucking much, Joel," You moaned as you convulse on the pillow, nearly cumming.

"P-please—" was all you said. You couldn't even get the words out of your mouth as the the uncontrollable waves of pleasure passed through your body.

"Please what, baby? What do you want?" He pressed for you to continue your sentence.

"Please touch me, I need to feel you right now," You grab Joel's hand from the bed and bring it up to your breast, taking him by surprise.

Such a needy girl, Joel thought as he felt your hard nipples through the cotton. He fumbled and teased at them before pinching your nipple, making you yelp loudly and your back arch more.

"Baby, you gotta be quiet or someone will hear you." He whispered to you, trying to get you to be quiet.

Instead of just being quiet, you shook your stubbornly, closed your eyes in pleasure, and bit your lips, loving the feeling you were experiencing right now.

"I don't give a fuck," You said as you breath out a humorless chuckle, after releasing your lip from your teeth.

The way you were acting right now in front of Joel surprised him a bit—it was different than the way you were this morning, even minutes ago. He didn't mind though, not one bit. Joel actually enjoyed seeing you this way. So wild, allowing your pleasure to take over.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum," You gasped out.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Joel teased. Mmhm, you whimpered in response as he releases your breast and starts to move his hand up your shirt, starting from your hips and going up your tank top. He palms your breast again, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin, and flicks your nipple hard.

"Come on, cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you moan for me," He eagerly said as he watched your body tremble, ready to fall apart for him. Your moans got louder and louder before your breathing hitched and got caught in your throat.

You came almost immediately, your body shook and your hand went to your clit as you keep on grinding on the pillow, intensifying your orgasm. "Daddy, oh fuu-shit!" you squeaked.

"Look at you, my pretty, slutty baby. Cummin' so hard f'me," he purred, but you couldn't get out your words. You were so overwhelmed that you nearly fell over as you tried to keep yourself up, but luckily you didn't.

Joel continued to spew out teasing comments as he egged on your climax, until you eventually calmed down a bit. He removed his hand from your shirt as your slumped against the bed with exhaustion.

He let out a chuckle as you face plant into the bed before giving your back some rubs as he tried to calm you down. You were breathing heavy as your body trembled and your hips rolled against the pillow, causing you to let out a dreamy moan.

"Oh darlin', come on, get up so you can lay down right...gonna hurt your back laying like that," Joel said to you softly. You were tired as hell and on the verge of falling asleep right there, so you stayed there for a little before getting up.

Once you did get up, you fell back into the soft pillows with your eyes closed as you felt yourself relax into them.

You can feel as Joel grabbed the pillow from that you humped from between your legs. You thought that he was going to put it to the side or something, but that wasn't the case at all.

"Oh, baby, look at the mess you made," you hear him say, almost moaning. Your eyes shoot open, which you catch him running his finger through your wetness on the pillow, bringing it to his mouth, and licking it off. He groaned the moment it touches his tongue, which made your eyes widen with shock and you let out a gasp.

To Joel, you tasted as good as you smelled and he loved it.

"Joel, why would you do that?" You asked him, shocked that he would do that.

He gives you a wide smirk, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "Why not, baby? You taste so good."

You say nothing after this, feeling flustered by his actions.

It was quiet between the two of you until you remembered that you didn't have anything on from the waist down.

You were tired, but you gathered the strength to get up from the bed.

"Where you goin', sweet girl?" Joel asked you as you made your way to your bag.

There's that name again. You loved it when he called you that.

"Just grabbin' some shorts," you looked over at Joel as you bent down to grab your shorts and put them on, feeling his eyes on you, watching you so intensely. "I can feel you watching me, Mr. Miller," you tease him.

"Mr. Miller, huh?" You turned around and made your way back to the bed to find Joel still watching you.

You just nodded your head as you plopped down onto the bed a lay down. You pat the spot next to you, trying to get him to lay down next to you, which he obviously got the hint.

"Want me to lay with you, darlin'?" He looked over to you, searching your face for permission.

You quickly nodded your head as you scoot over to make room for Joel, making him crack a small smile on his hard face.

God he looked so handsome when he smiled.

"Alright, baby."

Joel laid on his back on the pillow next to you, making readjust yourself as you snuggled into him with your head and hand resting on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing you closer to his body.

You laid there listening to his steady heart beat, your heavy eyelids almost closed.

You noticed that he had all the chances to touch you, even have sex with you, yet he never did and it made you wonder why.

Before you could stop yourself, you called his name."Joel?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked

You hesitated before speaking up again, afraid of what you might hear from him, but fuck it.

"Why won't you touch me?" You asked him curiously, the sleep was audible in your voice.

He was quiet for a moment, making your wrench with rejection, until he spoke up. "One day, baby. Just not right now, okay?"

You nodded your head against his chest before answering. "Okay," You said softly, feeling somewhat content with his response, but still feeling a little rejected.

At least he didn't say never, you thought to yourself.

"Good girl, now get some sleep." He said, making you nuzzle into his chest and close your eyes, almost instantly drifting to sleep as you felt his hard body under you.

============================================

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift.

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.”

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night.

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend.

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner.

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing.

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote.

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face.

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you.

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen.

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen.

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus.

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back.

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers.

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets.

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone.

You chuckle in response.

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came.

And will still be one after you.

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself.

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly.

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments.

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges.

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say,

I got you.

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar.

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even.

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure.

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something.

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service. You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus.

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top.

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts.

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece.

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised.

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you.

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy.

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks.

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start.

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone.

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar.

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband.

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.”

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about.

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb.

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.”

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next.

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.”

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her.

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings.

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.”

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely.

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly.

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service.

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out.

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him.

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook.

“Good service tonight,” he says back.

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies.

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t.

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile.

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you.

“Hey!”

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again.

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively.

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you.

“Always, Carm.”

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack.

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh.

“Is that even a real question?”

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed.

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant.

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder.

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop.

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara.

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself.

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had.

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate.

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil.

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times.

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him.

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no.

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta.

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again.

No awkward tension of things left unsaid.

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t.

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen.

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs.

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you.

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks.

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself.

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully.

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.”

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh.

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs.

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face.

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.”

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face.

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm.

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin.

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel.

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now.

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless.

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that.

On your favorite fucking dish.

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit.

That he only got them for you.

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever.

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt.

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you.

It’s just you and him.

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath.

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip.

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going.

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been.

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you.

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now?

Now, could be different, if you’d let it.

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it.

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead.

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you.

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently.

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can.

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off.

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours.

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off.

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body.

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing.

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is.

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless.

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off.

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand.

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care.

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours.

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you.

You both gasp at the feel of each other.

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment.

“This okay?”

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts.

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.”

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts.

But you’re in desperate need for more.

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.”

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much.

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls – anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight.

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you.

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice.

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain.

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips.

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses.

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say.

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.”

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him.

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways.

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse.

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had.

It feels… magnificent.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder.

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

#carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #the bear marcus #sydney adamu #the bear tina #richie jerimovich #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut

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tmcsartstuff · 3 months

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Loser, baby reprise idea

If we get a reprise of loser, baby in season 2 I want it to be the opposite of the original song.

like wether that be something going on with alastor, his gambling/ alcohol tendencies, or the fact that he hates he’s a winged cat. Maybe, if we wanna be angsty, all three.

Like how the OG song was a combination of ANGEL’s relationship with VAL, his self destructing habits like drugs and alcohol, and his self hatred for his body and being a toy for Val, (or a PET, like how Alastor sees husk!)

And then I believe this would take place somewhere more personal like in a enclosed room or bathroom or even at the hotel bar, where the OG was in a messy open setting on some rando street.

Preferably it would be later in the season so there would be a bigger break and relationship development to help the reprise hit harder since it has ALREADY become their song. (And to help the pacing)

So husk would be all down in the dumps and Angel would lift him up the same way Husk did to him all those months ago but since then, their relationship has become deeper and sweeter so it would be slightly more… cute?

Like I don’t want something as light as the more than anything reprise compared to the original song where it just becomes lighter and more natural, no.

I want it to be sweeter in a way where it reflects how these two are still struggling together, are still losers together but it’s become less insulting and more lighthearted and teasing. like we already see in episode 8 that the losers thing has become a cute lil joke.

So, it developed even more to where the reprise makes it genuinely sweet while not dumbing down on the purpose of the original song? That would be PERFECTION.

It would be shorter than the og since it is a reprise, and it would NOT be where they kiss. I have many ideas for when they kiss (if they even do cuz omg I love slow burns but idk if I could wait ANOTHER season if we even get a S3) probably about a minute long like the other reprises.

Since I’m so hyperfixated on this idea, I already imagine the main line is changed ever so slightly.

Instead of ‘you’re A loser baby,’ it’s something super sappy and romantic like ‘you’re MY loser, baby,’ and they would both joke about how soft and stupid they’ve become?!?! I would MELTTTT.

I highly doubt if this were to happen these would be the lyrics by here’s my idea of how it would kinda go

Angel to husk: so things look bad, and you’re back’s against the wall… *much slower, lighter, softer.

You’re whole existence seems, fuckin’ hopeless..

You’re feelin’ filthy as a {I feel like they would change the lyric here, but it would depend on the context and setting to make it work. Like how the og was outside a gross bar, the line ‘dive bar bathroom stall’ fit for that situation. Or it’s just a general metaphor and I’m insane.}

Can’t face the world sober, and dopeless… [ok imagine instead if it getting higher here like the OG song it gets LOWER? It would be a nice change for a reprise : o]

You’ve lost.. you’re way… but you know you’re life ain’t wrecked {There’s two ways the buildup to the chorus rewrite could go. -

They could keep it the same, or change it up in a way to where Angel is referring to how Husk already helped him through this and this situation and how he knows it’s pointless to dwell. Which is why he’s helping husk now with the same problem, but he’s just a dumbass because he knows this! Reflecing on the original song idea of ‘yeah you’re pathetic but so am I with you’ kinda mentality.}

So I guess we’re correct… {or, as I originally said, OG lyrics BASED ON story context. Obviously idk what S2 is gonna be like lol}

You’re my loser, baby, my loser, goddamn baby you’re my fucked up little whiney bitch, you’re a loser just like me.

*And I would adore it if husk just did a sarcastic scoff and said ‘thanks asshole’*

You’re my screws-loose boozer and only one star reviewser [this line on they would sing it togetherrr]

You’re a {Depending on if the OG song was saying that Husk was also a power bottom and that was his company or if he just generally had company is still unclear to me, so they could hypothetically keep that line or take a spin on it where they joke about, say, husk being a submissive top? I’m just flowing with ideas gosh} [I wouldn’t be able to make a clever rhyme for that joke except for this so why not] >>>>>>

You’re a sub top at/off the highest rooftop, but you’ve got company~* in a more flirty and teasing tone cuz husk was also teasing him a lot in loser, baby*

I will not explain the joke but it’s pretty self explanatory [The roof is considered either the most empty or luxurious part of a building, it can also be roofs, flying, wings I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS! And off if we want be a lil… dark if we ain’t referring to flying 🤨]

|Anyways I ain’t no professional songwriter in any way that’s just a little personal dumb line|

And then it would end! Like I said not in a kiss like the more than anything reprise cuz I don’t really want another chaggie parallel? (Not saying the chaggie and huskerdust parallels are bad it’s just parallels between the f/f couple and m/m couple when they’re both very different I don’t want to be many) -

I think it would be a hug or a soft snuggle or something more simple get intimate like that : P since Angel needs sweet stuff not more ‘sexual’ :/ advancements.

Or this whole thing is pointless cuz the point of the song was Husk telling Angel once and for all that he’s not alone and they wouldn’t need to bring it up again? But we already got the instrumental so there’s slight hope…

Anyways, if we were to get a loser baby reprise that is just my personal idea of what I think would happen! Obviously the second season is already written but if something even remotely similar happens to this I will be happy. Hell maybe I was right on point but it’s highly unlikely haha

Toodles~ |I didn’t write this at 2 am instead of sleeping on a school night cuz I had 2 assignments due whatttt|

#Hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel season 2 #Hazbin hotel idea #Huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #not really a theory just an idea #loser baby hazbin hotel #love these sillies #Rants #rants n rambles #spouting ideas #I’m too invested in this concept #Long post #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel song #reprise concept #Just me being silly #The line you’re MY loser baby still makes me melt omg I just love that

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yelena-bellova · 10 months

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: People Watching

Plot: The Greyhounds take another hit in Amsterdam, and a night out brings about revelation and realization for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: language, discussion of child neglect

A/N: AMSTERDAM!! This is the one that really ties the whole thing together and sets up the rest of the series. I think it’s also my favorite so far. Very little of any other characters (sorry to my Jamie girls) but I promise it pays off ☺️

Enjoy!!

(Yes, this chapter is titled after the Conan Grey song. It fit too perfectly)

————————

The Amsterdam match, while not counting for anything, was a tremendous defeat.

The Greyhounds lost to Ajax, 5-0, unable to score a single goal against the Dutch. The boys hung on the field despondent, the home crowd booing and taunting them as loud as they could.

Y/n watched from the suite, seated between Keeley and Higgins, her eyes drifting across the crowd. Rivalry between fans had never bothered her, until Richmond had become her club. Now she was feeling every insult as if it were directed at her.

“Rebecca,” Marjolein, a high-up at AFC Ajax took the chair next to the blonde, “My apologies. Now, you’ve come all the way to Amsterdam and we at Ajax have been such rude hosts.”

The woman gestured to the scoreboard that the foursome couldn’t bear to do more than glance at.

“Marjolein, you’ve been more than gracious,” Rebecca replied, “Especially given the circumstances.”

The cruelty towards the Greyhounds had been particularly hard to handle because it all tied back to the golden boy. Zava. The signs, the banners, the cheers against them…without the prick, apparently AFC Richmond was worthless.

As the whistle blew, the match officially ended and the teams headed off the field. Y/n, Keeley, Higgins and Rebecca stood to their feet.

“Till next time,” Rebecca thanked and shook Marjolein’s hand. Keeley and Y/n followed suit.

“Truly was an honor to play here at the Johan Croyff Arena,” Higgins complimented.

Marjolein touched her hands to her chest, “No. The honor is ours completely. But it is pronounced Johan Cruijff.”

“Oh,” Higgins nodded, “Still.”

Left to themselves, the foursome listened to the stadium chant the words to Three Little Birds as it played over the speakers. Salt in the wound that was still actively bleeding.

“This song’s depressing,” Rebecca muttered before downing the last of her champagne.

Higgins gagged, his tell-tale sign that he was uncomfortable. Y/n put her hand on his shoulder and took it upon herself to lead the group out. When the boys came off the pitch, her job began.

Higgins, Keeley and Y/n went to the locker room, the two women waiting outside as Higgins collected who they needed.

“I hate him,” Y/n complained, leaned against a wall, staring up at the bright florescent lights, “I hope a storm comes through and just wrecks that avocado farm.”

Keeley managed a snort while pacing the hall, she was tense about something other than the match.

Y/n peeked over at her boss, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Keeley said quickly, picking at her nails a little before she stopped in front of Y/n, “I have something I need to tell you.”

Barely opening her mouth to ask what it was, Y/n was stopped by Higgins emerging from the locker room, Jan Maas and Roy in tow.

“Let’s get this over with,” Roy grunted, walking alongside Higgins down the hall.

“If you’re gonna fire me,” Y/n looked back at Keeley, “Do it now.”

“No,” Keeley replied, hurrying to catch up, “It can wait.”

They stood to the side with Higgins as Jan Maas spoke in his native tongue, his tone surpassed the language barrier. The team were hurting.

Eventually, the interviewer turned to the coaching side. “And so, Roy Kent,” he began, “Don’t you think Richmond’s objectively poor performance is due to the fact that you’re nothing without Zava?”

Y/n inhaled, holding her breath after, “Here we go…”

“Who cares?” Roy replied, “It’s a fucking friendly. A friendly is a pretend match. This is a pretend conversation. You’re a pretend person with a pretend job. And I’m having a really hard time pretending to give a shit.”

If Zava didn’t give them enough headlines to clean up, Roy certainly did.

Will passed them in the hallway with armfuls of bags, whispering hellos to Keeley and Y/n, before Rebecca returned.

“Okay, a night out in Amsterdam it is,” she said quietly, “Let’s make the best of it. What’s the plan?”

“Ooh, I’m spoken for, I’m afraid,” Higgins replied, “It’s my first time in Amsterdam and I have a date with someone special in the red-light district.”

Rebecca, Keeley and Y/n watched their co-worker leave, staring in confusion.

“Nah,” they all said in harmony. There was no way.

“Just us, then,” Rebecca smiled at the two women.

Between the loss and her general stance on spending time together outside of work, Y/n already had her excuse prepared. “I’m exhausted,” she said, “I’m just gonna order dinner and turn in early.”

Keeley’s nervous smile returned as Rebecca turned to her expectantly, “I’d love to-“

“That’s a quick cancellation,” Rebecca replied.

“How’d you know I was gonna cancel?” Keeley asked.

“Because there’s a certain note in your vocal range that you only ever hit when you’re being preemptively apologetic,” Rebecca explained, glancing over to Y/n, “Am I right?”

Y/n scrunched her face at both her bosses, landing on Keeley. “Just a…little.”

“Come on,” Rebecca continued, “Out with it.”

“All right,” Keeley sighed, “Apparently, tonight is the best aurora borealis ever. Like it’s the aurora ‘boreal-iest.’ In Norway.”

Rebecca nodded understandingly while Y/n tilted her head. “How are you getting to Norway?”

Keeley ever-so-slightly shifted between feet, “And Jack and her plane are waiting for me at the airport right now,” she looked nervously to her employee, “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Y/n’s mouth opened and closed, her mind trying desperately to find words opposite to what she truly wanted to say. Keeley. Jack. Keeley and Jack. A thing. The boss and the boss-boss. What could go wrong? Everything.

Luckily, Rebecca spoke first. “Subtle,” she smiled at her friend, “And amazing.”

“Yeah, that’s,” Y/n’s total discomfort with the situation cut off the signal to her brain. She awkwardly made a fist and raised it, “Great. So great.”

Keeley was so in her own world, no doubt one that sat on a Dutch runway, she didn’t notice Y/n’s terrible performance.

“Go,” Rebecca nodded toward the end of the hall.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Keeley grabbed Rebecca’s hands.

“Yes, you will,” the older blonde replied.

“Oh,” Keeley caught Jan Maas heading down the hall, interview completed, “Great job, Jan.”

“Yes, seriously,” Y/n added, “Thank you so much.”

The Dutch man smiled at the two and gave a wave.

“And, Roy,” Keeley called to her ex, “Thank you again for doing this.”

“Yeah,” Roy nodded, “Anytime.”

Keeley squeezed Rebecca’s arm, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Rebecca repeated.

“I love you,” Keeley grabbed Y/n’s hands, “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Y/n forced a laugh, nothing was actually funny at the moment, and watched as Keeley ran down the hall, Norway bound.

Rebecca, having spent enough time with Y/n, could sense her unease. “What are you thinking this very moment?”

“I’m watching my career get blown up because of a stupid night sky,” Y/n grinned, her eyes following Keeley’s fluffy pink coat bounce up and down.

Roy left the interviewer, coming to stand between the two women. It gave him a prime spot to watch his ex-girlfriend bound out. “Where’s she going?”

“Somewhere that believes they deserve her,” Rebecca replied, letting the thinly veiled comment smack Roy. She touched Y/n’s arm in goodbye before leaving the same way Keeley had.

Y/n let out a sigh, her and Roy turning to one another in silent resignation over separate matters. Y/n’s eye caught on the poster beside them, her face shifting with disgust.

Zava.

Roy turned and faced it, a small shrine to the legend’s short stint at AFC Ajax, and pounded his fist against it. It fell to the floor where Roy promptly landed a few kicks before casually walking off.

Y/n looked down the hall to where the interviewer was still filming, watching in shock as Roy stalked off.

“We’ll pay for that,” Y/n smiled.

“No, we won’t,” Roy called out.

Sneering once more at Zava’s arrogant grin, Y/n marched off toward the exit, ready for the day to be over.

—————————

Of course, by the time she got back to her hotel, it was barely 6PM. There was a whole evening to kill.

Y/n ordered room service, snacking as she scrolled the social media reactions to the match. When it became fruitless trying to find anything positive, she set her phone down on her nightstand and grabbed the tv remote instead.

She flipped between stations, finding most of the programming to be in Dutch. Eventually, she settled on the hotel’s channel that showcased their amenities and the city’s activities.

Y/n dropped the remote in shock, “Oh my gosh.”

With a Dutch overdub, a very out-of-fashion Keeley described some feature the hotel rooms had.

Y/n laughed, covering her mouth as she watched her boss over-exaggeratedly move around the screen. The sight was bringing her thoughts on Keeley back around to a more positive place.

It was eating at her, though, Keeley and Jack. Both of them were perfectly lovely, and Y/n had been witness to their natural chemistry. But dating the person that financed your company? That could decide at the drop of a hat to pack you up and dissolve everything you’d worked for?

Not that Jack would do that. Y/n reminded herself that the woman was level-headed and genuinely believed in Keeley’s vision. But there was always the great big “…what if?”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, sitting on the edge of her bed. How could anyone be comfortable taking such risks with their career?

Deciding that she’d spiral if she stayed in her hotel room any longer, Y/n went to her suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes. She threw on her sweater and jeans, collected her wallet, phone and coat, and headed out the door.

She felt a twinge of guilt, telling Rebecca she was staying in and leaving the woman to fend for herself. But it wasn’t enough remorse to get Y/n to send a text.

Once she reached the lobby, she had to pass through the lounge to get to the exit. She quickly stepped back behind a wall when she spotted the entire team seated together, in deep conversation. Y/n couldn’t turn down another invitation, nor did she want to answer any questions, good-natured as they may be. She waited until a bellboy came through with a full luggage cart, hurrying alongside the suitcases that formed a perfect shield.

In the clear, Y/n stepped out into the evening air, inhaling deeply. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was going to enjoy herself. If nothing else, she was going to leave saying that she’d spent a night out in Amsterdam.

She wandered down to a busier part, not so stupid to think that as a single woman she could roam the city freely. In the more touristy section, there were buskers, much like in London. They provided a pleasant soundtrack as Y/n weaved through the crowds, searching for the first place she wanted to stop. Eventually, she spotted a street vendor, selling coffees and pastries, and decided that was as good as anything else.

Y/n walked until she found an empty bench, claiming it for herself. She ate her pastry, sipped her coffee and watched the crowd, listened to the chatter of the people passing by. There was something about being in a new city that electrified her, it was the same feeling she’d had when she’d first arrived in London. Everything was fresh and exciting and full of possibilities, even if she didn’t take any of them.

“And here-“

A familiar voice broke through Y/n’s thoughts. She traced it to find Jamie jogging down the cobblestone street.

“Is the most beautiful girl,” Jamie announced, running in place in front of Y/n and gesturing to her, “In all of Amsterdam!”

Spotting Y/n a grin, Jamie went on his way, leaving her laughing as he left. Ten seconds later, a well-worn Roy stopped to catch his breath.

Y/n smirked, knowing that Jamie was exhausting him. She lifted her leg to show her sneakers, “You want me to-“

“No,” Roy panted, keeping one eye on Jamie, “Don’t give him any more fucking energy.”

Roy took off once more after his protege. Y/n watched the two men disappear into the night, smiling and shaking her head.

With nothing else to do, she decided to call her sister. Her and Caylee had a standing catch-up each Sunday and she wasn’t going to miss it.

The dial rang twice before it picked up, “Hey.”

Y/n smiled at the sound of the familiar voice, “Guess where I am?”

“Where?”

“Sitting along a canal in Amsterdam, sipping a coffee, surrounded by people I don’t know.”

“Look at you,” Caylee cheered, “Being all spontaneous and shit.”

With a full mouth, Y/n laughed. “I mean, I knew I’d have the time. Not sure that counts.”

“Still, it’s good to know you’re out. You with anyone?”

“No,” Y/n said, watching one of the boats float down the canal, “Just me.”

Caylee’s silence was deafening, and predicted. By them both.

“So not your boss, who you said keeps inviting you places?” Caylee asked.

Y/n chuckled, “My boss is in Norway right now.”

“And not your other boss who, quite frankly, sounds fucking amazing?”

Y/n sighed, thinking of Rebecca’s earlier invitation. “She…had plans.”

“Not the coach who home invaded you to deliver fresh baked cookies?”

“No,” Y/n was starting to squirm under Caylee’s interrogation, “And they were biscuits.”

“And not the ridiculously hot footballer who’s basically just dropped himself in your lap?”

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose. Jamie had texted her multiple suggestions on how to spend her night in the city. She’d felt bad ignoring them.

“It’s not-“

“Yeah, I know,” Caylee cut her off, “It’s not like that. That’s not the important part of what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ve got all these people who are jumping to be around you and you keep pushing them away, and quite frankly, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

Her tongue poking her cheek in frustration, Y/n let her free hand fall to her lap. “Why is it ridiculous?”

“Because you’ve got no reason to be doing it,” Caylee said, no doubt with a shrug. Y/n was inhaling to argue back when she was cut off again. “You’ve got every reason to. I do too. Except these people actually want to be with you. They’re fucking proving it every Sunday night you call me and tell me how you had to dodge another invitation to a birthday party or another drink after a match…”

Y/n felt backed into a metaphorical corner, all too exposed. She kept searching for some comeback, some solid point to make, but couldn’t find one.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, Caylee,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

“It’s really not,” her sister replied.

“Yes, it is,” Y/n’s tone jumped, “You make it sound like all I have to do is go out for a coffee with my boss and all my issues are magically solved.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Caylee, to her credit, didn’t drop her even tone.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Y/n retorted, her brain and her mouth working at different speeds, “Y-you’re saying that I should— I-I should jus-just let them into my life and-“

“When are you going to stop punishing everybody else for what Mom and Dad did to us?”

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest and her stammers stuck to her throat. The truth could paralyze you like that.

Caylee didn’t speak, letting the question wash over her sister. Eventually, after watching someone self-destruct for long enough, subtlety was useless. Sometimes you had to hurt them to help them heal.

“I love you,” Caylee said softly, “But you deserve a better life than this. The only thing standing in the way…”

The sentence didn’t need to be finished. Y/n knew.

“You can hate me if you want.”

Y/n chortled, looking down at her coffee cup. “I’ve tried. Doesn’t work.”

Caylee hummed, her smile somehow vocalized as well.

“I love you,” Y/n returned, “And I’m…sorry. For everything.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing you need to stop doing,” Caylee pointed out, “Stop apologizing for our shitty childhood. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my baby sister,” Y/n sniffled, trying to stop the tears before they’d even formed, “Bit of a habit, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, I turned out fine,” Caylee chuckled, “Boyfriend, job, friends…I’m happy. I just want the same for you.”

Y/n smiled, she was so proud of her sister. She’d built her own life, and had found an inner peace regarding their childhood that Y/n had yet to discover. She wasn’t envious, she longed to understand how Caylee had done it. How she seemed to be able to pack up their parent’s negligence in a box and stick it under her bed. It was all Y/n had wanted since moving to London.

“Well, not that this isn’t fun, getting a verbal finger wagging,” Y/n sighed, “But-“

“Go,” Caylee urged, “You’ll never be in Amsterdam again.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “I might.”

A sisterly silence crackled between them.

“You’ll never be in Amsterdam again,” Caylee grinned, imagining her tightly-wound sister in a city of such debauchery.

Y/n laughed, “Probably not.”

“I love you,” Caylee repeated, “Really.”

“I love you too,” Y/n echoed, “I’ll call you Sunday.”

“I’ll be here.”

Without another word, the siblings hung up, returning to their corners of the world.

Y/n took a breath, looking down at her coffee as if it held all the answers. She couldn’t very well sit on the damn bench all night, not after that conversation. She needed to do something.

Amsterdam. Tulips. That made sense. She needed to see tulips in their native soil.

Y/n searched the map on her phone and found a nearby garden, less than a half mile’s walk away. She could do that no problem.

On the way over, her thoughts managed to leave her alone. The weight of what Caylee’d said hadn’t fully landed. Weaving between tourists and dodging the drunken ones was certainly enough to keep Y/n occupied. She could keep herself in semi-excitement about her destination.

Upon arriving and paying for admission, she found the gardens to be surprisingly quiet. It was close to closing time and a fair share of parties were heading out the way she was coming.

Y/n strolled through the greenhouse. She found the path to the outer section, the pebbles crunching under her sneakers as she followed the signs with floral markers. Her head stayed quiet.

The sprawling tulip patch was stunning. The marketplace ones Y/n had bought and placed in her kitchen window didn’t do the real thing justice. These bloomed with the kind of radiance that only came with being in the place they truly belonged.

Y/n tried to admire them, but had never been more aware of her solitude. There were families strolling past, couples gazing at the flowers, hand in hand. The bustle of the Amsterdam streets had melted away, the peaceful silence of the gardens provided no escape from one’s thoughts.

She’d been at Richmond four months, growing more and more pleased with the job each day. Except it wasn’t the work that made her happy. She didn’t get a pit in her stomach at the thought of exchanging emails with some sneaker company. She didn’t feel jolts of electricity down her fingers from scrolling Twitter to see how a press conference was received.

It was the matches that thrilled her. Sitting in the owner’s box at Nelson Road. Being squished between Keeley and Rebecca and Higgins. Watching the team run up and down the pitch. Cheering and screaming when one of the boys scored a goal. That was what made her happy.

The tears built as a supercut of moments played in Y/n’s mind. The team, inviting her out after nearly every match, genuinely disappointed each time she declined. Keeley, clawing and scratching her way into Y/n’s life, desperately trying to be a friend. Rebecca, as intimidating as she was, constantly praising Y/n on her talents, always encouraging her. Ted, offering time and time again to be there for her, to welcome her into their fold. Jamie, texting her a full fucking itinerary for a night he wouldn’t even be there for. Helping her find an apartment. Listening to her talk about her shitty childhood.

Being there for her.

They all wanted to be there for her.

And she was too fucking scared to let them.

Y/n sniffled, her eyes so blurred that the tulips turned to watercolor blobs.

“Ahem.”

She turned to her right, a grey haired man taking slow steps toward her, pulling something from his jacket.

“Here you go, dear” he said, offering her a handkerchief.

“Oh,” Y/n tried to collect herself, inevitably failing and taking the cloth, “Thank you.”

“No need,” the elderly man held up a hand, he spoke with a thick Dutch accent. “It is easy to recognize a broken heart.”

“Oh, no,” she denied as she dried her eyes. She tried to give a small smile, “I’m just a little lonely. It’ll pass.”

“Ah,” he came to stand beside her, facing the tulips, “I would not say that.”

Y/n stayed silent, sensing the stranger had more to say.

“Loneliness…it is like a warning. A wave lapping at the shores,” he smoothed his hand over the air, “It grows a little bigger, and it starts to hit the shore. And out in the distance, more begin to build. But still,” he shrugged, “No storm, no worries. It is simply a wave. Until the skies darken, and the storm shows up,” he moved his hand to simulate bursts of thunder and lightning, “And everybody is running and asking ‘Ahhh! How? How did this happen? Why did no one tell us this was coming?’”

Y/n smiled slightly as the man clasped his hands together, speaking higher for the imitation.

“And the storm says,” he cleared his throat, “‘I did tell you. The waves grew wilder and wilder, but it was of no concern to you. You laughed and continued on, saying that it was nothing...that it would pass.’”

Y/n clenched the handkerchief tighter in her fist.

“Loneliness is not to be isolated further,” the man mused, smiling grandfatherly at Y/n, “Rather, to be smothered in the company of good friends, a lover. Family.”

Whether he was an angel or a hallucination, the man was telling Y/n everything the part of her mind she didn’t listen to did. She’d hidden away all her life, terrified to let anyone in. The effort had finally beaten her. She was tired of the loneliness, tired of lying, tired of fending off the efforts of those who were already in her heart.

Y/n gave a watery smile, “You might be right.”

He smiled back, “Maybe.”

With a wink, he started back up the path he’d come.

“Wait,” Y/n held up the handkerchief, “You forgot this.”

The man looked back and waved a little, “Keep it. A little reminder not to be alone for too long.”

He went off then, Y/n watched him until he disappeared around a corner, feeling dumbstruck. Terrified. Relieved. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but her feet set off with such purpose, it didn’t matter if she knew. She was on the right track.

She ended up in the red light district, of all places. There was no one to call, each of the Greyhounds off on their own adventures, but Y/n was determined to be somewhere there was life. To do something. Not stand on the sidelines and pretend she had no desire to be in the middle of it all. A jazz club seemed like the perfect answer.

The establishment she decided on was busy, but not too crowded. She took cautious steps through, hoping she didn’t pick too rowdy of a place. Soft jazz played from the stage at the back of the smoky room. She was about to settle at the bar when she spotted the backs of two heads she knew quite well.

Walking up to the two men, Y/n tapped Higgins on the shoulder.

“Y/n,” he exclaimed, no doubt a little tipsy, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wandered in,” she replied, looking past him and giving a little wave to Will, “You mind if I join you guys?”

“Oh, please,” Will gestured to the table, jumping up from his seat to help Y/n into a chair.

“The more the merrier,” Higgins added before going back to playing the upright air-bass.

Y/n tried not to laugh, she’d never seen him off-the-clock. She suspected Will hadn’t either as the two of them caught each other’s eye, sharing a look of mutual amusement.

“Has he been like this all night?” Y/n asked.

“Uh, little bit, yeah,” Will answered, Higgins scatting in the background.

One of the women that had been playing on stage made her way down to the Richmond table, scrunching down to Higgins’ level. She raised her voice over the music, “Do you play?”

Higgins startled, stumbling over his words due to surprise and liquor. “Uh…um…”

Y/n smiled and turned to the woman, “He does.”

“Yes, he— Yes, he does,” Will was quick to follow, “He plays bass because Chet Baker- Chet Ba- Do you know who Chet Baker is?”

The woman smiled sweetly at Will.

“All right, okay,” he replied, settling back in his chair and looking to Y/n, reminding her of an excitable puppy.

“What do you say, Higgins?” Y/n asked, looking over at her co-worker.

He looked to be wrestling with an already made decision. Will patted him on the shoulder, urging him to accept the unspoken offer. Buoyed by his co-workers, Higgins scooted his chair back and followed the woman up to the stage. Will and Y/n cheered him on.

“We went to see where Chet Baker killed himself,” Will said, his grin didn’t quite match his words.

Y/n raised her brows, still smiling. “Well, that must’ve been fun.”

“It was,” Will replied, “What have you been doing?”

Higgins took hold of the bass, getting a feel for it before playing a complex intro to a song.

Y/n’s eyes never left the stage, “Nothing as fun as this.”

“Let’s get lost now!” Higgins called to the crowd.

Everyone let out a shout of approval, Will and Y/n’s the loudest, and the rest of the band kicked in. Y/n pulled out her phone and opened her camera app, she hit record just as the woman who’d pulled Higgins up began to sing.

As the song played, for the first time in four months, Y/n smiled so broadly, her cheeks hurt. When Higgins went into a solo, she grabbed Will’s arm and the two of them watched ecstatically. She felt like she’d come to an oasis in the middle of a desert, not even realizing how in need of water she was.

When the song ended, she was the first one to her feet.

—————————

The next morning, the Greyhounds were surprisingly sober aboard the Coach. They went about their separate conversations, waiting for the last of them to find their way onto the bus.

An unfamiliar pair of shoes slapped up the steps, drawing a couple of eyes upward.

Y/n stopped at the front of the bus, holding up a beanie.

“This,” she said loud enough to get all the player’s attention, “Is a collection plate. It will be sitting at the back of the bus, where at some point during the eleven hour drive back to our lovely nation, you will each place an unspecified amount of money which, in total, will amount to what we owe the hotel in damages to pillows,” Y/n held up a finger, smiling annoyedly, “And keep in mind, I do know your salaries. Give accordingly.”

There was a mixture of shame and amusement on the Greyhound’s faces, but no real regret. Nor was Y/n actually mad. She had questions, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing when she came down to the lobby and saw Higgins doing damage control at the concierge desk over the feathery mess.

She made her way to the back of the bus where Ted and a very dressed-up Beard sat.

“Hey, stranger,” Ted greeted, looking up from his notebook, “How’d Amsterdam treat ya?”

“Alright,” she replied, looking at the empty spot next to Ted, “Do you…mind if I join you guys?”

Ted smiled, surprised but delighted. He knew if he said too much he might scare Y/n right back off the bus, “You kiddin’? Scoot your boot, c’mon.”

Sliding in beside him, Y/n exhaled against the plush seat. Will had already packed her bags in the luggage compartment and she’d texted Rebecca to let her know she wouldn’t be joining her on the jet back to London.

She finally got a full look at Beard’s ensemble. A big snout and pig ears, a glittery jumpsuit with silver platform boots, and an unmistakable blue and red lightning bolt painted across his face.

“I hate that I know what you’re going for,” Y/n remarked across the table.

“Don’t hate it,” Beard replied, spreading his hands, “Embrace it.”

Y/n chuckled before the cheering from the Greyhounds caught her ear. She glanced down the aisle to spot Rebecca making her way towards them.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey, boss,” Ted added as Rebecca slid in next to Y/n, looking more relaxed than ever. “So, twelve unanswered texts, three un-haha’ed GIFs. We good?”

“I’m sorry, Ted,” Rebecca smiled, speaking slowly, “My phone is at the bottom of a canal.”

Ted pondered the answer, “Is that Keats?”

Rebecca shook her head, “Nope.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t need to send that text,” Y/n commented, “I won’t be on the plane home, by the way.”

Rebecca gave a breathy laugh, reaching over to pat Y/n’s hand. Out of character as all get out, but Y/n was happy to see her boss so…at peace.

“Hey, Will,” Ted called down to the kitman, “How we looking?”

“Uh, we’re two short,” Will answered, “Who’s missing?”

Y/n had clocked the missing presences the second she’d stepped on the bus. Being the closest to the window, she was the first to spot them, but she didn’t quite believe what she saw.

Jamie rode up beside the bus on a bike, Roy sitting behind him and hanging on with one arm slung round Jamie’s hips.

“You lovely people,” Jamie called out as Roy eagerly hopped off.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Y/n remarked.

“Don’t fucking ask,” Roy groaned as he came down the aisle, “Let’s go.”

Just as he’d taken his seat, Jamie jumped aboard, holding his fists in the air. “We saw a windmill!”

The Greyhounds cheered, high-fiving Jamie as he found a seat. He caught Y/n sandwiched between Rebecca and Ted, the two of them sharing a grin.

“You take my advice?”

Y/n shook her head, “Not a bit.”

Jamie clutched his chest, letting himself fall into one of the chairs. “I’m hurt,” he called over the chatter.

Rebecca slid her feet up onto the table, shutting her eyes as if she meant to go to drift off. This was the most relaxed Y/n had ever seen her, and she suspected the same went for Ted.

“Everything okay, boss?” Ted asked.

Waiting a moment, Rebecca responded with a tune that had had a much different meaning the day before.

“Don’t worry,” she sang, “‘Bout a thing. ‘Cause every little thing’s, gonna be all right.”

“Well,” Ted smiled, “I appreciate it.”

“Singin’ don’t worry,” Beard continued, singing back quite nasally, “About a thing.”

Y/n laughed, what else was there to do? She was watching a man in a David Bowie/swine get-up sing Bob Marley, and there was literally no place she’d rather be.

“‘Cause every little thing,” Rebecca sang along with Beard, “Gonna be all right.”

Ted chuckled alongside Y/n, “Ready for eleven hours of this?”

“Definitely,” Y/n nodded.

“Everybody!” Beard called to the bus before continuing the song, “Don’t worry…”

As she sang with the team, Y/n felt the four month old tension she’d been holding melt away. This was where she belonged, this was where she wanted to stay.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader

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andysorbit · 10 months

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We Can Go Anywhere (M)

idol!Johnny x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance

warnings: car sex, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, semi public sex, sweat kink

Author's note: this has been in my drafts for a while. I was gonna just trash it but what the hell. I tweaked it and now it's yours. also shout out to @multifandomslxt for triggering my sweat kink. it really added a nice touch and helped me finish this off in a way that felt more satisfying. I really hated what i had before.

word count: idek? like 1k?? give or take??

songs mentioned:

sex on fire - kings of leon

UH - fujiya and miyagi

You think you're falling in love with John when he shows up at your door at noon on a Saturday.

His pretty eyes meet yours and he grins at you,

"Pack a bag," he tells you.

It's random and you've grown close enough to stop questioning him. Whatever he has planned, he knows you need it just like he knows you well enough to step in at the right moment to keep you from spiraling.

"How much stuff should I pack?" You ask as you begin tossing your basic necessities in you backpack.

"Three days worth? Remember the old department store that closed down? Price Rite?"

John's fighting an eager smile.

"Yeah?" You say slowly.

"There's one left but it's like... Eight hours from here so if we go now, we can get there before they close and maybe have dinner on the way there. Hurry up,

John's voice is soft yet eager, "I'm gonna make sure my GPS is set up right. I'll be outside."

You pack a throw a few outfits and pajamas then take a quick shower.

It doesn't take you long to get ready and when you get into the passenger seat of John's car, he turns to smile at you, "Okay, you good? Got everything?" he asks.

You nod, "Yeah. I think so. I grabbed an extra phone charger for just in case."

"Perfect. Now let's get going," he says as he pulls off.

"I see you decided to wear a dress... Good girl, baby."

You feel your cheeks heat up and he reaches across to grab your hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss.

"You know at some point during this trip, I'm gonna have my hand in your panties."

"Oh, I know it."

The first hour is filled with music and snacks.

As John drives, you feed him sour patch kids, he dedicates songs to you, and you both play I spy.

It's these moments that you love. He isn't Johnny in NCT who travels the world and is sometimes gone for months at a time, he's John and he's as familiar as the feeling you get when your head touches your pillow at night.

In the second hour, you read fanfictions to John and you both laugh. After coming across a particulatly wild Doyoung story, you both decide to send it to him.

"That one was good... kinda made me a jerk though," John chuckles.

"You said it was a good idea to send the group chat a story about Doie getting a train ran on him by every single one of you guys, baby, you are a jerk," You shoot back.

John laughs and you definitely may be falling in love with him.

In the third hour, you both debate on whether or not road head is safe and ultimately decide against it.

Just into the fourth hour, John's hand eases from your thigh to inside your panties.

He strokes you while Sex on Fire blares from the car speakers and there's just something about the wind pouring into the car and the smell of the trees lining this stretch of highway that make this orgasm in particular the best orgasm John's ever given you.

When he pulls his hand from your panties and brings his fingers to his mouth to taste your release, you think that maybe you two could be like this forever. Raunchy and playful. Gentle and vulnerable. Safe, stupid, and comfortable; knowing that things will only ever get better for the both of you.

In the fifth hour, you stop for dinner at a roadside diner with a jukebox and John plays James Ingram's One Hundred Ways. You chat with a retired truck driver who tells John that he should marry you as soon as he can.

John promises him that he will.

In the sixth hour, Yuta calls to check in on you both and to tell you that Doyoung is spiraling from that story you sent and that Hyuck has been reading that story along with many other stories at full volume in all of the dorms.

In the seventh hour, John can't take it anymore and he pulls into a truck stop and parks way in the back, "Come on, beautiful," he hums as he clumsily shimmies his long frame into the backseat.

UH plays as you ride him frantically and you both know that this could go so badly if someone were to see the car visibly shaking but you're both too caught up in the hunger of this moment to care.

"Daddy!" You whimper.

"Ride daddy's cock like a good girl... that's it," he sighs.

Your thighs burn but you can't stop. John presses hot kisses against your neck and chest, "Need you to cum, baby... cum on my cock," he whines and you know he's so close to letting go.

You take his face in your hands and lick the sweat from his upper lip.

"God, you're so fuckin' hot... Ah! Shit..." he says through clenched teeth.

"Cum, daddy... please cum," You plead.

"Cum with me," he whispers. He licks your neck and slowly drags his tongue up, up, up past your jaw, past your cheek to the sweat on your own upper lip.

You moan and lap at his tongue. To taste him like this makes your body float.

His hips stutter and he cums inside you with deep sigh, "Don't stop yet... get yourself off, baby," he winces. You know he's sensitive and he's too greedy to stop you.

You both share a greedy kiss as you tremble and bounce on him, "Daddy... I'm... I'm close."

John brings a hand down to thumb your clit and you squeeze your eyes shut as you release.

Somehow, he cums again and this time he's throwing his head back and bucking wildly against you. You lean against him and gather yourself.

The words tumble out of his mouth with that same warmth and clumsiness he had when he first asked you to be his girlfriend,

"I love you."

You kiss him, "I love you too, John," You whisper.

You stay this way for a little longer and when you finally get back on the road, John drives with your hand in his.

In the eighth hour, you arrive at Price Rite. It's a nostalgic gift for the both of you and as you walk aisles together, you smile at the familiarity.

"All of their stores really do look the same," John says incredulously.

"At least we don't have to ask where anything is," You say as you look towards the lingerie section.

"Looks like you want a Price Rite Signature exclusive," he says with a chuckle as he leads you into the department.

You both look around until John finds a dusty pink set, "I think this is the one, Y/n," he says.

"Oh wow, that's so pretty," You say with a gasp.

"Come on, let's go get a hotel for the night. It's late," he says as he ushers you out to check out.

"You look like the boy in the group my son likes," the cashier says. You look down at her name tag, her name is Sandra.

"I get that a lot," John laughs, "That's the guy from.. NCT? Yeah, I hear that quite a lot. I met him once. He's even bigger in person."

"Yeah? My son has a thing for tall guys... oh he's gonna love this. You two enjoy your night," she says as she hands John the receipt.

You both bid her a good evening and leave.

"You're so annoying," You laugh as your hand finds his.

John drives along the boulevard until he spots a hotel, "This one looks good. How are you feelin' about stopping here for the night, ladybug?"

"Yeah," You say softly. You feel your body tiring out.

He parks the car and you get out, "I'll get your stuff. You look half dead."

You give him a tired smile and wait as he gets your things from the trunk.

In the hotel lobby, John does all of the talking to get a room.

"Newly weds?" the receptionist asks.

"Yes, ma'am," John says with a nod.

It's when he turns to smile at you that you know for sure that you are in love with him.

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avatar-anna · 1 year

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Family Vacation

buckle up, it's a long one!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader

For reference, here are all the kids' ages:

Simone: 12 Collette: 9 Maeve and Julian: 8 Geneva: 4 Natalia: 3

2025

“All right, here we go. Simone?”

“Here.”

“Colette?”

“She’s helping GiGi put her shoes on upstairs,” Simone replied, standing next to Harry by the front door of the house. She was dressed comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's old crew necks, a pair of leather sneakers on her feet. He'd tried to talk her into a different pair of shoes for the flight, but she was going through a sneaker phase at the moment and wouldn't hear it.

Harry nodded at his oldest child and continued. “Great. Twins?”

There was no answer. Looking up and down the front hall of the house, Harry wondered where two out of his five children were. “Maeve? Jules? Come on, we’re going to be late!”

There was more silence, and Harry silently worried about what his most troublemaking children were up to. But after a minute, he heard the sound of feet running around upstairs, and a few seconds later, the twins bounding down the staircase headed for Harry and Simone. Harry looked them over to make sure they were dressed and ready to go. They were, but had switched shoes again—Julian in his sister’s sparkly pink ones and Marve in his plain black sneakers. Neither Harry nor Y/n knew why they switched their shoes, and sometimes their clothes. It was always a toss up when they came down the stairs dressed for school. Sometimes Jules and Maeve were in their own clothes, sometimes they weren’t, and sometimes they were in some sort of combination. After the first couple times it happened, Harry and Y/n stopped questioning it; as long as they were fully dressed and out the door for school on time, it didn’t really matter to them.

Not even batting an eye at the twins’ shoe switch, he asked them, “Ready?”

“Ready!” they said together, following their older sister out of the house and into the car.

Harry waited for his three remaining children, smiling when Colette and Geneva skipped down the stairs together. GiGi ran over to him and leapt into his arms, and Harry caught her, kissing her cheek and fixing the little hat she was wearing. Five down, one to go.

"Mama! You ready to go?"

"Almost!"

"We're gonna be late!"

"Saying that doesn't make me go any faster!" Y/n called back.

Harry shook his head at his wife, but waited for her patiently by the door all the same, double checking in his head that they had everything in the car—suitcases, iPads, sunblock, passports, chargers, etc. GiGi played with his hair and babbled in his ear while Collette ran off to the car with the rest of the family, curly hair bouncing with each step.

After a couple minutes, Y/n came down the stairs with Natalia in her arms, a tiny backpack resembling a giraffe on his youngest daughter's back. Y/n looked a little frazzled as she went out the door, but Harry didn't comment on it, just took the diaper bag from her and locked up the house once everyone was outside.

"I just spent the last twenty minutes trying to get her into the pull-up," Y/n explained.

"Does she really need it? She wears underwear now."

Y/n looked at him. "Do you want to deal with an accident thousands of feet up in the air?"

"Good point."

They got in the car in silence, and Harry did one last headcount before starting the car. "Does everyone have everything?" Y/n asked one more time, which meant Collette was unbuckling and running back into the house for something, Julian not far behind.

"Are we really doing this?" he muttered to her.

"We're really doing this," she murmured back.

"God help us."

The drive to the airport was full of chatter, the way it always was when Harry drove all six of his children somewhere. Maeve and Julian were off in their own little world, GiGi was singing along to what she thought were the words to the song on the radio, Colette was talking about the science project Y/n helped her finish from the window seat behind him, and Simone was sitting in the backseat with… Daniel, the boy she had asked to invite a couple weeks ago.

Harry remembered the night his daughter came into his and Y/n’s room as the two of them were getting ready for bed with utmost clarity, remembered how Simone switched from foot to foot and didn’t meet either of them in the eye as she asked if she could bring a friend on their family vacation. Of course, Harry told her, not sure why she was acting so nervous. Her friend Melanie was always welcome to join them on their family outings.

But Y/n knew better, as she always did when it came to things like this. She hardly even reacted when Simone clarified that it wasn’t Melanie, but a different friend. Daniel.

Harry immediately wanted to say no once he realized why his daughter was acting so shy about asking if Daniel could come, but his wife subtly pinched his side to keep him quiet while she told Simone yes and that she would call Daniel’s mother in the morning to make sure it was okay. Harry kept his cool while Simone thanked him and Y/n, kissing each of them on the cheek before leaving their bedroom with a wish goodnight over her shoulder. The second Y/n heard the door to her oldest daughter’s room shut with a soft click, she picked up a throw pillow off their bed and whacked him with it.

“Ouch! What the hell was that for?” he asked, giving his wife an incredulous look at her actions.

“You better be on your best behavior,” was all she said, not apologizing for her pillow attack.

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to pretend like he wasn’t freaking out on the inside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently, getting under the covers of their bed after turning the lamp by their bed off.

Y/n turned it back on, not believing him for a second. “I mean it, Harry,” she said, using the same stern voice she often reserved for their kids. Crawling over to him so that she was perched on top of him with her legs on either side of his waist, she poked him in the chest. “Be-have.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he tried to reason, but he already felt resentment bubbling in the pit of his stomach towards this Daniel person. When his wife gave him a look that told him she still wasn’t convinced, he sighed. “I’m not ready for the boys, or the girls,” he added as an afterthought. Simone never talked about it, but Harry and Y/n always kept an open mind about such things. “She’s too young for dating.”

Y/n raised her eyes heavenward, clearly exasperated by her husband. “Harry, how old were you when you had your first kiss?”

Harry grumbled under his breath, which made Y/n grin just a little. "You're not helping."

“We're so far off from that anyway, love. He's just a friend from school. And a nice boy. I've driven him home from school a few times. He's an only child. He could use a dose of...us.”

Harry kept quiet, crossing his arms and pouting because while he knew his baby was growing up, that didn't mean he had to like it. Knowing he didn’t have any sort of argument for that, Y/n continued. “She needs friends, H. Don’t you notice how she rarely invites anyone over to the house?”

He had noticed, but she was also constantly across the street at her friend Melanie’s house. “I know that, but…She’s my baby.”

Y/n’s eyes softened. She shuffled around on the bed until she had her arms wrapped around him, her fingers as soothing as they always were as they ran through his hair. “She is, and she always will be, so be happy that your baby asked if her friend could come with us on vacation instead of sneaking out of the house to see him.”

That image did nothing to relax Harry’s troubled thoughts in the slightest. He wanted to be comforted by the memories of Simone sleeping between him and Y/n, of when she was so small and only wanted to be in Harry’s arms when they went somewhere, of first steps, first Christmas, first everything. He didn't think they were at the stage of first boy.

“Hey,” Y/n said quietly when Harry remained quiet for a few minutes. She knew her husband had a hard time seeing Simone grow up. He loved all their children equally, but his bond with their oldest daughter was a special one. In a time of uncertainty and chaos, Harry saw their daughter for the first time and she’d become a beacon of light and love. The day he became a father was the best day of his life, and he had been protecting and loving Simone ever since.

"He really is just a friend. You think I would be okay with him joining our vacation if he wasn't? She's twelve, H."

Harry sighed, pouting his lips just a little. "I know. But can you freak out a little with me so I don't feel like the only crazy parent?"

Y/n chuckled and kissed his cheek. "But who would reason with you? Remind you about the beautiful resort we're staying at," she said, planting another kiss, this one closer to his ear. "And the master bedroom that's on a whole separate floor from the other rooms in the suite." Another kiss. "All the alone time we'll have once everyone is asleep."

She continued to whisper in Harry's ear about all the things she wanted to do with him once they were on vacation, one of which made his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhm."

"You mean it? We can—"

He didn't even want to say it in case he jinxed it, but it didn't seem like his wife was joking. Y/n nodded, tracing his lips with the tip of her finger. "You know I don't joke about that."

He grinned, the reaction almost involuntary. Kissing her once, twice, three times, Harry responded with, “I love you.”

There was silence as Harry and Y/n continued to kiss, long and lazy ones that made Harry nearly forget about Daniel, especially as Y/n’s leg draped over his middle and his hands moved under her sleep shirt. Nearly. “He better not try anything, or I’ll—”

“Your best behavior,” she intoned, hovering just above him as she used her stern voice again. “Think of the alone time.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you enjoy telling me what to do?”

“It gives me a rush,” Y/n said simply, pecking him on the nose. Harry flipped her over so that her back was against the mattress, his lips were just barely touching hers as he told her it was his turn to make demands.

For the next couple weeks, Harry had removed Daniel from his mind. But the time had come to drive to the address Y/n had given him when they got in the car. He hadn’t paid much attention to where each of his children were sitting until he waved at Daniel, then raised his brows slightly as he climbed into the back row to join Simone. He wasn’t a huge fan of that, but then Geneva accused him of not singing along to the song that was playing, and because he could never turn down singing with his daughter, his mind was temporarily occupied.

That didn’t stop his eyes from flicking to the rearview mirror every few minutes to check up on Simone and her friend. He eyed the blonde hair that came down to the boy’s shoulders, the leather cord necklace that peeked out from under his shirt, the warm tan he had from spending time in the sun. Was this her type? Harry thought. She’s too young to have a type. She’s too young for all of this—

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Harry focused back on the road in front of him, making the proper turns that would take him to a more secluded parking lot of the international airport. Harry waited until he parked the car to answer Maeve’s question, helping Valen out of her car seat and resting her on his hip. “The airport, peanut. We're going on our vacation, remember?”

Harry and Y/n didn't take the kids on proper vacations very often. It was hard for the whole family to be in one public place together without being noticed, and it was even harder now ever since the documentary came out and their family was brought into the limelight. People relentlessly tried to get pictures of Harry with any one of the kids, which only pushed them to go out even less or take even more extreme measures to ensure no one knew where they were.

But they all still deserved a vacation. Y/n and Harry researched and researched until they found the right place—somewhere remote enough that they could be left alone, but big enough to fit their family and had the facilities to ensure privacy. And somewhere fun. Everyone needed to have fun.

So they decided on a fancy island resort. There was plenty of activities for the kids, a big villa that accommodated their big family, and a spa for Y/n to relax. In a lot of ways, Harry wanted this to be the honeymoon he and Y/n never got to have. They would be strapped down with six, now seven, kids for most of the time, but they'd be watching them in a very nice resort.

Harry did another headcount when they got to the airport to make sure he had all of his kids and Daniel, then led them all to where a security guard was waiting to take escort them to the airport lounge where they would wait to take off, with Y/n rounding out the back so no one got left behind. As they came into the airport, in public where everyone could see them, Harry looked behind him for Julian, knowing he didn’t love having so many sets of eyes on him. As was the side effect of being their father, all of the Styles children were used to or at least familiar with being photographed in public places or seeing large crowds of people in the most mundane of places. However, Jules was very shy and sometimes had a hard time with the shouting and the phones pointed in his direction.

Harry turned back with Geneva still in his arms to take Julian’s hand. At only four years old, Harry and Y/n tried to keep her and Natalia from having their picture taken the most. They’d done it with all of their children when they were babies, gradually letting them get used to all of the craziness. The documentary sped things up a bit, but outside of the kids' small appearances, Harry and Y/n made sure they were hardly seen in public. It was why Geneva was wearing her little knit hat with daisies on it, the brim wide enough to shield her face should anyone try to nab a picture of the four year old. Y/n pushed Natalia in a stroller with the hood extended low over her face so all one could really see was her little legs.

To Harry’s surprise, Jules was holding the hand of his oldest sister. It wasn’t shocking that Simone was holding her little brother’s hand in a situation like this, she often did so with one or two of her siblings when they went out together. But today she was with a friend, with Daniel. Harry figured she would want to just hang out with him, but there Jules was, laughing at something Simone’s friend had said, not at all bothered by the people pointing their phones in their direction. Smiling, Harry reached out a hand for Maeve to take, and she happily obliged, Colette falling in line next to her.

When they finally got settled in the lounge, there was still a good amount of time before takeoff. The twins were on one side of him and Colette next to them, Simone and Daniel on his other side, and GiGi bouncing up and down in his lap. Julian and Maeve were off in their own little world again, only this time they took Colette with them as they played with a couple of the toys Harry packed for them in a backpack. Y/n was gone, having taken Natalia for one last bathroom trip before they boarded the plane

Trying to heed his wife’s instructions, Harry did his best not to eavesdrop on Simone and Daniel’s conversation, focusing on Geneva, who was more than happy to have all of her father’s attention. She squished his cheeks with her hands, pushing them up and down into various frowns and smiles.

Y/n came back just as Collette began to bicker with the twins. "Harry can you," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the three kids.

"Yep. On it."

By the time he settled the argument, it was time to board. The whole family was up and shuffling toward the gate, Harry leading everyone so he could hand over boarding passes to the woman waiting for them. "Have a wonderful flight, Mr. Styles," she said warmly, smiling at each child as they walked past.

Thankfully, they boarded before everyone else, which gave Y/n and Harry time to get all their kids settled in their seats. "Alright, change of plans. Maeve, sit with Collette, Jules you're with—"

"Daddy!"

"O...Kay. JuJu's sitting with Daddy. Simone and Daniel, you'll sit across from me and Natalia. Daddy, you got Geneva?"

"Yep. Come here, peanut."

Snacks and iPads were passed out, and everyone was quietly waiting for takeoff. At first, Harry and Y/n used to feel bad about using technology to get their kids to quiet down, but now that they were six against two they did whatever they could.

"You have a wonderful family."

Harry was immediately on high alert. He was always hyper aware of strangers around his kids, but especially with Geneva and Natalia. They were so young, they didn't deserve strangers getting in their faces and all that.

But he supposed that having six kids, plus an extra, quietly entertaining themselves on a nonstop flight was something to be proud of. Looking up from where he'd been opening a pouch for Julian, Harry gave a close-lipped smile at the flight attendant who'd spoken. She looked about a few years older than Harry and Y/n, and if she recognized Harry, she didn't let on.

"Thank you. It's our first big vacation."

"That's so fun! It must be hard to travel with all these little ones on your own."

"Um..." Harry wasn't sure what the woman was insinuating. He looked across the aisle, but Y/n was completely occupied with Natalia. Her smile seemed sincere, though, so Harry just politely corrected her. "I'm married, actually."

"Oh! Sorry, I don't know why I—Gosh," she stuttered, a blush on her cheeks. "Sorry. Well, um, can I get you anything?"

"Juice!" Geneva piped in from Harry's left.

Harry gave his daughter a look and said, "How do we ask for things nicely?"

"Can I have some juice please?"

The flight attendant smiled and promised to be back in a moment, then left their section.

"It must be so hard to travel with all these little ones on your own," Y/n said, raising the pitch of her voice. She was still looking at Natalia, but clearly, she'd heard the whole exchange.

"Oh hush. She was just being nice," Harry chided.

Harry never realized how exhausting vacations could be. Between swimming under the sun all day and keeping an eye on seven kids, he crashed on the bed each night completely wiped out. And even though Harry and Y/n were an entire floor above the kids, they could still hear the giggles as Simone, Collette, the twins, and Daniel stayed up past their bedtime playing games. It was fun, it really was, but it was no honeymoon.

He'd have about a thousand pictures by the end of it all, though.

"Daddy, I want a lemonade!"

"Gi, I just asked you if you wanted anything from the restaurant," Harry said, doing his best to give her a stern look.

They were having a relaxing day at the resort's pool. Yesterday they went on a boat and went all around the island, and before that was water sports, and the day before that was—well, today they were just relaxing. The hotel had reserved a cabana that was pretty well removed from the other ones, giving them a bit of privacy, though other guests had kept their distance for the most part.

“Dad, we can take GiGi to get a lemonade. We wanted snacks anyway,” Simone said. At the word “snacks,” both Geneva up, looking to their father for approval.

Harry wanted to say yes, but he didn’t like any of his kids walking around on their own. At twelve, Simone and her friend were more than capable of going to the restaurant on the other side of the pool and coming right back, but there was always a chance of people following or coming up to her, and she thought the idea of walking around with a security guard was embarrassing, but it was usually the only way Harry and Y/n allowed her to go off on her own when they did things like this.

“Erm…You’d have to take Chris with you,” he finally said, nodding to the security guard who was currently sitting next to Natalia and seemed very interested in the water wings the youngest Styles was showing him. Chris was their family bodyguard and had become part of the family by this point. He was patient with the kids and played with them on occasion, but took his job seriously.

Simone didn’t answer right away. She looked at Daniel first, a question in her eyes. Harry knew it couldn’t be easy having to be tailed by a security guard all the time, especially when she seemed to already have a hard time making friends. So when Daniel just shrugged and said he didn’t mind, Harry actually felt a little relieved and hoped that this friendship would stick. Perhaps Daniel was all right after all.

Fishing out cash from his wallet, Harry passed it off to Simone and told her to come straight back and hold GiGi’s hand the whole time. Simone looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at her father’s grave tone, but she refrained and took the money and her sister’s hand. When they were gone, Harry sat back and sighed. His eyes flitted over the pool for a moment as he searched for his wife.

She was in the pool with Maeve and Julian, tossing them up and letting them splash in the shallower end. Harry cleared his throat and slipped on his sunglasses, trying not to stare too obviously.

Y/n wasn't even doing anything. But she just...she never failed to make his heart pound. And the swimsuit she wore wasn't helping. Her body had changed over the years, the same way his had, but he still thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and right now was no different.

Harry was debating joining his wife and kids in the pool or staying until Simone and the rest of his kids came back with Chris. But that decision was made for him when he saw her help the twins out of the pool.

"They put umbrellas in our drinks!"

Harry looked the other way and saw Geneva with a kids cup in her hand, a small cocktail umbrella sticking out of it. Simone and Daniel had their own drinks, and funnily enough, Chris had two.

"I want one!"

"Me too!"

Before Harry could say anything, Chris handed the two drinks over to the twins, who had walked up to the cabana with Y/n. Harry stood up and offered his spot up so all the kids could sit with their drinks without the risk of spilling them. He went over to Y/n, careful not to put his hands on her in front of the kids.

"You were staring," she murmured.

"Was not."

"You were."

Harry leaned forward and kissed the back of her head. "You would've had to be staring at me to notice."

"Mom, can Daniel and I go to the kids club? They have a ping pong table, and we wanted to play."

At the mention of the kids club, Simone's siblings voiced their desire to go too, but Harry could see the look on his oldest daughter's face. She'd been really great about hanging out with her younger siblings, but she deserved to play on her own with her friend.

"Sure, bug. Do you have your phone?"

Simone nodded, then squeezed Harry tight before running off with Daniel. His heart clenched as they left, but there were five other kids all vying for his attention. "Let's go to the water slide, shall we?"

Cheers went around the cabana. As they were all putting their cups down, Y/n came up behind Harry and squeezed his hand. "That was nice of you."

"Chris will check on them in a few minutes," was all he said.

"You're a good dad," she said, pinching his hip affectionately.

"You think so?"

"The best. "I wish we could sneak away so you could be the best husband for a little bit," she mumbled, kissing his bare shoulder.

"We'll have our moment," Harry assured.

"It would be even harder with another baby, you know that right?"

"Mm. We've always managed."

Y/n didn't say anything in reply, but Harry couldn't tell if it was because she didn't have an answer or because Geneva was poking her leg to get her attention.

"Can we go now?"

Conversation cut short, Harry and Y/n took the hands of their little ones and walked toward the waterslide.

"I'm so tired."

"I know."

"And sunburned."

"I know."

"It literally hurts to have my eyes open. I—What are you doing?"

"Shh," Y/n said, her legs on either side of Harry's lower back. "I don't have massage oil or candles, but I have aloe vera. Let me help you."

Harry couldn't have protested even if he wanted to. They'd spent the entire day at the beach, rounding the evening out with a quiet dinner courtesy of room service. All the kids were fast asleep, practically dead to the world, as soon as their pajamas were on, a first since they arrived a few days ago.

Mumbling some kind of assent, he let Y/n give him a massage. The aloe vera was cold on his back, her hands gentle but thorough as she rubbed in the gel and worked on the muscles in his shoulders and worked her way down. Harry groaned, sinking deeper into the bed as she began to apply more pressure.

"You've been such a good Daddy to the kids all week, hm?" she murmured in his ear, thumbs pressing into the muscles in his shoulders. "Planned this whole trip for us, work so hard so we can go to beautiful places like this, been so patient. Thought you deserved something nice."

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n to call Harry "daddy." When they were around the kids, they referred to each other almost exclusively as "mom" or "dad" or something to that effect. They were parents, it was part of their identity, and it certainly wasn't out of the ordinary. Daddy wasn't something that was inherently sexual to them, not when it was a word their children used regularly.

Though the gentle lilt of Y/n's voice and her hands on his back definitely had him turning his head to the side to peek an eye at her.

"Yeah?"

She nodded, still working out all the knots in his back. "Mmhm. So close your eyes. I'm gonna paint a nice picture for us."

Harry did as she said, focusing on her hands and voice.

"Imagine we're...twenty-two years old," Y/n said. "And...we just came back from the courthouse. The boys have finally left us alone for the evening."

The night they got married. They had to sneak out of their hotel rooms to do it, but Harry would do it all again in a heartbeat. "Mm. That was a good night."

"Yep. But this time, instead of putting Simone down and going to bed, we're packing for a trip. Our honeymoon. You planned the whole thing. Your mom agreed to watch Simone for a few days, there happened to be a break in the tour, and everything just fell into place so we could celebrate. Just you and me."

Y/n knew what Harry wanted this trip to be for them. She knew he always felt guilty about the finer details of their marriage. There was just never enough time for a proper honeymoon, and by the time there was, Y/n was pregnant with Collette. There were moments on the trip where they tried to slip away, but it just wasn't possible. Harry and Y/n were more than happy to spend time with their children, but a moment alone wouldn't have hurt, either.

"So we come to this beautiful resort," she continued, working her way along the broad expanse of Harry's back. "We drink too much champagne and sleep in too late because no one is jumping on the bed before sunrise. We kiss by the infinity pool and on the balcony and on top of a mountain after we've hiked to the top."

"Just kiss?"

"Easy. I'm getting to that. Where was I?"

"The top of a mountain."

"Right. And we make love everywhere. In the infinity pool, on the balcony, in that huge hot tub in our bathroom. For those few days, we don't care about getting caught or what people will see or think or say. We're so happy to finally be married, that the only thing that matters is us," Y/n said, leaving a kiss on the back of his neck, her teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "Flip over, baby."

Harry did as she asked, grinning when his eyes landed on her. Y/n normally wore a t-shirt and shorts to bed, but tonight she was in sheer pink, her breasts practically spilling out of the flimsy material, her hair framing her shoulders. She'd changed a lot over the years, and yet she was exactly the same. She still made him feel the same way she always had.

"We're not twenty-two anymore," he said.

"No, we're not," Y/n agreed. "But I still love you."

"I love you too, Mama."

Y/n leaned down and kissed him then, her body flush against Harry's as his leg slotted between hers. Their lips were chapped from spending the last few days in the sun, but that didn't stop either of them from getting more and more intense. Harry's tongue slipped into Y/n's mouth with ease, his hands rucking up her little pink blouse insistently. She lifted her hips to get her underwear off when his hands ventured there next but was quick to slide back against him, a smile forming on her lips when he groaned.

"I'm not feeling so tired anymore," Harry breathed, one hand dipping between her legs.

They could've been quick. After being together for so long, they knew what made the other get to the finish line faster, and had perfected it when free time came in brief, spontaneous moments. But Harry didn't want quick. All the kids were fast asleep, and he didn't think any of them would be waking up for a long time after the day they had. He wanted to take his time, and it seemed Y/n did too.

"Good. For a second there I thought you were an old man at the ripe age of thirty-one."

"You're gonna regret saying that in a minute."

Harry flipped his wife over so that he was hovering over her. Y/n's grin was full of mischief as she looked him over, her gaze fixated below his waist. She loved the moments where she could just admire her husband, and this trip had been full of them. So often she was stuck in full-mom-mode that she didn't appreciate how Harry still looked like he was cut from marble. His tattoos were faded with time, but they stuck out against his newly-tanned skin, there was a little more meat on his hips than when they were kids, but Y/n honestly loved him that way more. She loved his muscly thighs and broad back and his pointed nose and high cheekbones. She loved the smile lines by his eyes and the way his stomach jutted out just a little despite the muscle. She loved the soft parts and the hard planes. She knew every detail, every secret his body held. There was not one thing she didn't know about her husband or his body, and she was in love with every inch.

Y/n had been patient, she'd been a good mom this whole trip by not dragging Harry by the drawstring of his swim trunks and leaving Chris to watch the kids for an hour, she'd waited and waited for the right moment, for this moment. A few minutes ago, she could tell Harry was in the "make love" kind of mood, but she did away with that with a few choice words. She was usually all for it, but right now she really wanted a reason for them to be exhausted. Now, all she had to do was seal the deal.

Hooking a finger around his necklace and gripping him a little tightly between her fingers, she said, "Do your worst."

"Okay. It's our last night on vacation. What was everyone's favorite part?" Harry asked from his seat at the dinner table. "Maevie, you go first."

They were having one last dinner at the resort's outdoor restaurant. Their table was on a raised deck that stood in a shallow pool. The bottom of the pool was lit, making the water a blue-green color. There were lanterns in the palm trees, a warm breeze fluttering the leaves. Everyone was in varying states of tanned and sunburned—peeled noses, harsh tan lines, red shoulders and cheeks. The whole family plus Daniel were tired from days spent running around and swimming under relentless sunlight, but they were happy too. Content to go home tomorrow knowing that everything that could be done had been.

"I liked seeing the dolphins," Maeve said.

Each person at the table said their favorite moment or activity. From the hotel water slide to going tubing behind a speedboat to a whole day dedicated to shopping, all the kids enjoyed something different from the vacation.

"I liked when we took the Jeeps all over the mountains and Mrs. Styles drove really fast!" Daniel said.

Y/n smirked at Harry from across the dinner table as she cut up Geneva's food. He always had something to say about her driving—that she was too fast, that she drove like she was in a hurry when there was no reason to, and so on. Whether that was true or not, Y/n got to put her driving skills to the test with one of their activities. She took Simone, Daniel, and Collette in her car while Harry took the younger kids, and raced over the dirt path with them. It was bumpy, dusty, and full of sharp turns, but she and the older kids had a blast.

"You know, Daniel, I can't help but agree," Y/n said.

"What was your favorite part, Dad?" Simone asked.

"I think..." he said, taking his time to answer the question. "I think just getting to spend time with all of you was my favorite part."

"That doesn't count!"

"We all had to say something!"

"Boo!"

"Yeah, boo!"

"Y/n, really?"

Y/n shrugged when Harry looked over at her exasperatedly. He knew he gave a lame, sappy answer, but it was the truth. He knew his kids would give him grief about it, but he didn't expect his own wife to boo at him.

The night ended with one final walk on the beach. The kids all skipped ahead of Harry and Y/n, who were content to trail behind them and hold hands.

"We did it," Y/n said, twining her arm around her husband's.

"We did. With no trips to the local hospital, either."

"And," she added. "Daniel was a sweetheart. I think the twins are more trouble than he is."

Harry didn't want to be okay with Daniel when the idea of him joining the family on vacation was first proposed, but he couldn't help but agree with Y/n. He was nice, and hung out with all the kids, not just Simone.

"They're gonna give us hell when they're older aren't they?" he asked, referring to Maeve and Julian, who were currently wrestling in the sand.

"Definitely." They walked a few paces in silence while Y/n rested her cheek on Harry's shoulder. He was a linen shirt that was incredibly soft, and she would definitely be wearing it to sleep tonight. Then, as they got further down the beach, she said, "You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"Spending time with all our little monkeys," she said. "I'm glad we could give this to them. A trip with the whole family that's not just traveling with you on tour, you know?"

"I do," Harry agreed, kissing the top of her head. "I think I might have to give Chris a huge Christmas bonus, though."

Y/n chuckled. "He had fun too."

More silence, more walking and listening to the kids laugh and play by the shore. Then, "Our little monkeys aren't so little anymore."

"No, they're not," Y/n said. "But when they can play together far away, I can do this."

She stopped Harry in his tracks and tipped his head down to kiss him. His lips were light against hers, careful not to get too carried away. But it was nice to kiss out in the open, something neither of them would've ever thought was possible a few years ago. Their lives were so different now.

Harry kissed her a couple more times, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on the small strip of skin where Y/n's knitted sweater didn't quite meet her shorts. She looked and felt so cozy. All he wanted to do was get their kids up to bed and—

"Eeeew!" someone shrieked, it was too dark to tell which one of their kids said it. "No kissing!"

Y/n pulled back, but Harry held her close still. "What? You mean like this?" he asked before nuzzling his wife's cheek.

That got everyone going. Simone claimed Harry and Y/n were embarrassing her, Collette told them to stop because kissing was gross, and Maeve and Julian went straight for the tackle, going for Harry's legs until he playfully fell over. Once he was down, Natalia and Geneva joined their brother and sister.

If someone had told a twenty-two-year-old Harry that not only did he have six happy and healthy kids with the love of his life, but that he could hold his wife's hand and kiss her on the beach and play-wrestle with his kids without worrying who might see, he wouldn't have believed them. Hell, he wouldn't have believed them just a few years ago. But things were different now, things were good. Perfect, some might say.

And Harry definitely had to remind himself of that when one of his kids accidentally had him inhaling a mouthful of sand.

#harry styles #young dadrry #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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adorethedistance · 1 year

Text

Thought of You - Trevor Zegras x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, PDA

Words: 1386

Requested: hi!! can you please write something with trevor zegras where he is extra clingy after a long roadie? thanks sm!! 💗💗

A/n: This got a little heated at the end and I didn’t intend to do that lol whoops.

“Y/NNNNN!!!” I hear Trevor bellow outside as he bangs on the front door to my apartment.

“Give me a second,” I squeak as I clamber off the couch to answer the door. The cold tile under my feet is a shock that goes forgotten as soon as I see my boyfriend’s face for the first time in two weeks. “It’s almost midnight you’re gonna wake my neighbors.”

“I don’t care! I need everyone to know hOW MUCH I LOVE THIS GIRL, RIGHT HERE!”

“Get inside before you get me evicted,” I scold him, although I’m unable to keep myself from smiling. Once he practically slams the door behind us, Trevor smothers me with the biggest hug, unintentionally lifting me slightly off the ground for a moment.

“Oh my god, Trevor!”

“I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“I missed you too, I-hmm,” I hum in surprise when he grabs my jaw in his right hand and kisses me with as much as passion as a lifetime could possess. The kiss is sloppy and desperate, it reminds me of the time we had sex the back of his BMW. When he pulls away he looks in my eyes and simply melts. Sweet relief doesn’t even begin to describe the way his gaze drinks me in. If this feeling could be contained and replicated, it would be the most catasrophic epidemic known to mankind.

“How was your trip?” I ask as if we haven’t facetimed everyday since he’s been gone.

“I mean we won three and lost three so,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal but I know how he mentally beats himself up for bad losses.

Trevor then smiles flirtatiously, reaching down to grab my hand in his and place a kiss on the surface of each joint. He leads us over to the couch and flops down looking around the room with furrowed brows.

“Where’s the big costco throw blanket you got?”

“Right behind you, dork. I thought you ran hot anyways?”

“Well, yeah, I do, but I know you don’t.” My heart soars at his thoughtfulness and I’m overcome with happiness. I blink back into the moment and sit on the couch directly next to Trevor. His arm is draped over the seatback of the small sofa as I lean into him, resting my head on his chest. He unfolds the blanket to cover my bare legs and then takes my left hand in his right once more. He absentmindedly traces shapes and paths over the surface of my skin, occasionally stopping to maintain unconditional contact.

“Did I already tell you about when Mason and I went out after playing Colorado and he asked a girl for her number and she said no?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… Did I tell you about when Gibby dropped his stick during practice?”

“Yes.”

“What about Terry’s fight-”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything I didn’t tell you?”

“Maybe if you didn’t talk so much I could say yes, but for now, probably not.” I lift my head to look up at Trevor and he scrunches his face in annoyance. He falls quiet once again for a short moment before taking a big breath.

“I guess I’m out of- oh no wait there is something I haven’t told you!”

“Enlighten me,” I sit up and face Trevor completely, blinking slowly and attentively.

“Everywhere I went, I thought of you.”

“Well that’s not new information-”

“Let me finish! Everywhere I went, I thought of you because… music!”

“What?”

“When I was away, I went to a ton of different places and all of them had music of some kind. And, I don’t know, just… hearing all these songs about love, I thought of you…” His hand stops tracing patterns on mine. He’s frozen, uncharacteristically silent. I can see the cogs turning in his mind as he’s trying to wrap his head around something unknown. “I thought of you…” he repeats to himself in a whisper.

“Hey,” I say, softly trying to get his attention without breaking the moment entirely. “I love you.”

More silence.

Trevor scans my face for a moment before declaring, “I’m gonna marry you.” The statement is so vulnerable it catches me off guard and all I can do is laugh. Trevor begins laughing with me, realizing how absurd that sounds because I’m missing the context of his internal thought process. “I’m serious, Y/n. I want to marry you some day.” I develop an endeared smile and place a kiss on his cheek bone. He kisses mine as well and then wraps both arms around me to hug me securely. His arms feel so sturdy around me and he smells like cedarwood, like home. I hold him close for a moment before he speaks again.

“What the fuck, dude. Have you never had your heart broken?” The question catches me off guard once more and I burst out laughing before pulling away just enough to see his face.

“Why do you ask?”

“You just hug with so much love. I’m surprised no one’s broken your heart yet.”

“I’ve had my share of heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean you get to add to the collection.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Trevor quickly pecks my forehead before singing a very off key rendition of “Don’t go breaking my heart” to himself. I let him get through the chorus before I decide I’ve had enough, and bring him in for a kiss.

“Not that I don’t love your singing but maybe don’t quit your day job.”

“I’m gonna quit hockey and become a singer full time just to annoy you,” Trevor says as he stops hugging me. He grabs me by my hips and nudges me gently, indicating he wants me on his lap. I comply.

“Oh my god, please don’t.”

“I’m the next Taylor Swift, dude.” Trevor unintentionally laughs at how ridiculous he sounds and I straddle him gently.

“I highly doubt that.” He rests both hands on either side of my hips, slowly inching the right one forward so he can grab my ass. The gesture is subconcious judging by the gleam in his eyes as he takes in my form.

“You don’t know how much musical talent I have!”

“I know how much hockey talent you have and your luck has gotta run out somewhere, so…”

“Follow your dreams until they annoy your girlfriend, that’s the saying, right?”

“Yeah, you nailed that.” When I finish my statement we stare at each other for a moment before breaking into gradual fits of laughter. Any other night and we probably wouldn’t think twice about what we’ve been saying, but seeing him after so long makes the both of us giddy inside. Trevor compulsively leans forward to kiss my cheek then rest on the back of the couch again. I chase after him, leaning in to close the gap between us. My lips are on his once again tonight and the kiss is far more heated this time. His tongue grazes my bottom lip before gently sucking it into his own mouth. I sigh into the kiss. Too many nights alone with a vibe will never do these make out sessions justice.

Trevor grips my hips harder as he deepens the kiss, running his large hands down the sides of my thighs. The action ignites a wave of chills over the surface of my skin and I shiver a tiny bit as an outlet. I reach up to hold my hands behind his head, gripping the tufts of hair on the back of his neck. Trevor hums into my mouth a groan of desire and lust. The pads of his thumbs are rough against my bare legs, and the sensation is replaced when I notice he’s run his hands higher on my legs to disappear under the hem of my sleep shorts. I bite down on his lower lip and Trevor takes it as a sign that he can get rougher with the kiss. The feeling of his lips against mine consumes my every thought as I get lost in his touch, his scent, his kiss.

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” Trevor asks, his voice low and gravelly in my ear. I look at him and nod yes seriously but enthusiastically.

“I missed you…”

“I need you.”

***

A/n: hope you enjoyed reading and my requests are still open if anyone has something they’d like to submit!

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huggybearluvr · 3 months

Text

If I Could Fly || J.D

!! A Part of the 30 days of music series !!

Series Masterlist

Synopsis: After Jamie got drafted to the Flyers you were both missing the other more than ever. You would have left with him if it weren't for your classes. However, after a late night phone call with Jamie, you drop everything and go to him without a second thought.

The song links:

Apple music || Spotify || Youtube

Jamie had been gone for nearly three weeks now. You couldn't help but feel lonely as you sat in the once shared apartment.

It was nearing 9 in California, so you knew calling Jamie was not an option. It was almost midnight on the east coast.

You sat on the couch watching one of your favorite movies to hopefully distract yourself.

About thirty minutes later a familiar ringtone buzzed from you phone. you were quick to pick it up answering the call.

"Jamie? everything okay?" you asked into the phone.

"Not really," He said trailing off.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You asked now sitting up.

"I just miss you so much, I can't sleep at all," He said softly.

"I know baby, I miss you too," You spoke truthfully, "I wish I could be there."

"I do too," He said.

"Its late baby, go to bed, you have a big game tomorrow against the red wings."

"Alright, I love you," Jamie said smiling into the phone.

"I love you too."

"I'm missing half of me when we're apart"

After the call ended you couldn't help but think about going to Jamie. At around 11 you decided you couldn't just sit here.

You practically sprinted to your room. Grabbing your laptop and emailing your academic advisor, letting them know you would be needing to transfer schools and would like to finish this semester online.

Once your emails were sent you booked a flight to Phili.

You packed up as much as you could in two suit cases and texted Trevor to come over.

As you sat in the living room bags packed you felt more relaxed then you ever have before.

You knew you would be coming back during the summer to finish your moving but for now these two suitcases would be more than enough.

You heard a knock at the door and quickly got up to answer it. As you pulled the door open you saw a half awake Trevor standing there.

"y/n it's midnight, what was so important I had to come over?" He said rubbing at his eyes.

"I need a ride to the airport, and here is the keys your gonna have to check in here once a week til im back to move everything," You spoke quickly.

"Wait what where are you even going?" Trevor said taking the key from you.

"Im moving to Phili."

Trevor couldn't help but smile. He was happy his best friend had someone like you in his life.

"Let's go then," Trevor spoke picking up one of your bags and following you out to his car.

You landed in Phili calling an uber to take you to Jamie's apartment. You texted his neighbor carter letting him know you would be at the stadium within the hour.

Carter, Jamies Goalie and Neighbor had agreed to leave a key to his place outside the door so you could leave your stuff there to make it to the game on time. He also agreed to get you a media pass so you would be able to surprise Jamie.

After you dropped your stuff off you headed straight to the Arena. You got in through the back and quickly made your way to your seat. You opted for a pretty bad seat but you didn't want Jamie to see you.

The Flyers had won the game against the wings and you were more than ready to run down and see your boyfriend.

You quickly made your way to the ice, walking to the locker rooms. You stood outside of the locker room.

Many teammates walked by giving you an odd look as they had no idea who you were.

Carter came out and sent a smile your way, as you handed him the key to his apartment," Thank you so much for helping me."

"I did this for the kid but, your welcome," He said with a laugh," I'll see you both later."

You stood a little longer, Jamie was the last one out.

He walked out of the locker room, with wet hair and you swear he's never looked so good. His eyes were stuck on his phone.

You picked up your phone calling him. He answered.

"Look up, idiot," You said before hanging up.

Jamies eyes met yours, you both felt butterflies as the world around you froze. You practically ran to Jamie engulfing him in a much needed hug.

"I can feel your heart inside of mine"

"Is this real? how are you here?" He said pulling away to look at you.

"I'm moving here," You smiled leaning up to kiss him.

"baby, you have school," He said, once he pulled away hesitantly.

"I'm transferring, I couldn't be away from you any more," You spoke softly," I already talked to my advisor, Trev's gonna keep an eye on my place til we can move the rest, and for now my suitcases are at Carters."

"I love you so much," Jamie said as he awed at not only your physical beauty but how perfect you were for him. He truly thought that he wouldn't see you for months but now here you are in his arms, and he is never letting you go again.

#jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #30 days of music #anaheim ducks #philadelphia flyers

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lewkwoodnco · 24 days

Note

Can I make you a request about Anthony Lockwood based on the song “So American” by Olivia Rodrigo🥺😭

so american! - Lockwood x Reader

when he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so american oh god it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much I’d go anywhere he goes when he says I’m so american oh god I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up i might just be in la la la la la la la la la love

a/n: this fic has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now and I was soooo double minded abt writing it so THANK YOU for the ask!!!!!! might not have written it otherwise heheh also I’m sooo proud of how my gifs turned out it was so fun to colour them all guts themed 😍😍 I hope you enjoy!! <333 also im having issues w the keep reading button AGAIN so sorry :(((

warnings/tropes: lockwood and reader are already in an established relationship, fluffy fluff, veeerrry small sprinkling of angst but happy ending! domestic sweetness

word count: 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

“Ready?”

Lockwood ducked into the car's passenger seat, grinning at the sight of her comically desperate expression. George and Lucy were fussing in the backseat, mainly because of Lucy’s seatbelt, or lack thereof, and they didn't seem to notice his arrival.

“Just wear the fucking seatbelt.”

"I'll be fine, George."

"She got her license at 16. 16! They just let anyone drive all willy-nilly up and down the roads in America."

Lucy gave him a look. He finally gave up and tugged at his own seatbelt sceptically, muttering darkly under his breath.

Lockwood & Co. was much more than a psychical investigation agency. Outside of their working hours, each member liked to work on some kind of passion project. After not having driven for over a year since she got her driving license in the States, she had decided to apply for one in London. Luckily, her employer had gallantly offered to provide her with the lessons she badly needed, having been the first of the three to earn his license. Well, employer and boyfriend.

Her mother could hardly believe the news and, frankly, so could she. In a lot of ways, having an English boyfriend was vastly different from having an American one. First, there was a slight communication barrier, given how terrible she was with accents. Then there were the differing preferences - Lockwood seemed forever ready for a cuppa at any time of day, whereas the only kind of tea she really enjoyed was iced tea. Still, these differences left gaps for lingering gazes and silences that stretched on a little too much, and somewhere in between she slipped her hand into his, and the rest was history.

Lockwood turned away to buckle his seatbelt.

"Okay, your seatbelt on?"

"Yes."

"Ready to go?"

"Hang on," came George's peeved voice from behind them, "you're not going to brief her first?" The two of them stared at each other blankly.

"Uh, Y/N, do you remember how to drive?"

"Sure." It was one of those things you never forget, like riding a bicycle. Sure, it had been a while, but how hard could it truly be?

"Brilliant. Now-"

George pulled himself forward between the two front seats, straining against his seatbelt. “We don’t drive on the right side here. We drive on the left side of the road. Left. Left.”

She glanced at her rearview mirror which outlined the line of cars behind them parked on the left side of the street.

“No. You don’t say.”

Lockwood coughed, poorly concealing his laugh as he craned his neck towards the backseat windows. "Right, all clear. I think we can move of-"

"Parking brake."

"Er, right, what George said. Disable the parking brake first."

“I’ve never driven with a parking brake before.”

“So you push in this metal bit, like so,” said Lockwood, gently manoeuvring her fingers into the right grip, “and then pull it up a little, and then bring it all the way down.”

She tugged at it in frustration. “I -it’s not working.”

“Lockwood, did you tell her to step on the “

“Step-on-the-brake-while-doing-that-yes I was just about to say, George. I think I know how to teach someone how to drive. Unless you’d like to take over?”

"Oh, please. You couldn't pay me to sit in the front seat with that maniac driving."

She got her parking brake down, checked her mirrors, and they were off. For a minute there it was quite enjoyable, trundling through the mostly empty backstreets of London. Lockwood even tried to prop his feet on the dashboard before getting badly told off by George. He was forever propping his feet up at the slightest chance - at the Archives, at home, and now here. Maybe it was all part of some innate desire to be a wheelbarrow.

And so, things were going perfectly rosy, until she faced her first real challenge - oncoming traffic. As soon as the car heading towards them came into plain enough view, the four of them went into hysterics. The road was just narrow enough to make overtaking a little too tricky for her abilities at the moment.

“What do I do? WHY isn’t he slowing down?”

“Don’t panic, it’s alright. Stop a little to the side.”

She cursed, fumbling for the brake pedal her foot had carelessly slipped off of. Lockwood was nervously watching the car get closer and closer to them.

“Now would be a good time to stop, Y/N. Brake! BRAKE!”

They shot ahead sharply, swerving right sharply, narrowly missing the car passing them. Lucy swore loudly and George gripped the car grab handle above him as he started scolding no one in particular.

"NOT THE BRAKE!”

Lockwood gripped the steering wheel over her hands, frantically trying to steer them to safety. With some difficulty, she shifted her foot back to the right pedal and slammed the brakes. There was a bit of a scuffle in the backseat, including George going off on Lucy in a very ‘I-told-you-so’ tone.

At the front of the car, Lockwood and she were still frozen, reeling from the past very exciting 30 seconds. Her eyes settled to where his hands were still resting on hers, tightly pinning her fingers to the steering wheel.

“Your hands are so warm.”

He peeled them off almost instantly, and she was sorry she brought it up in the first place. “Yeah, well, they’re panicking, just like the rest of me. What the bloody hell was that? I thought you said you knew how to drive!”

“I do know how to drive.” She bit back a smile at the sight of her 180 cm tall boyfriend trying to catch his breath with his hand dramatically splayed across his chest, muttering something about Americans handing out licenses to just about anyone.

The drive back to the rental car agency was much less eventful. After returning the car, they trudged back up the road to Portland Row. As they hung their coats up, she met his thoughtful gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He drew in a breath and hesitated. “You look nice.”

“Is this some convoluted way of patting yourself on the back for your fashion choices?”

“So you agree? You think you look nice?”

She groaned. She should have known no good was going to come from showing Lockwood Mean Girls. Still, it was hard to stay mad for long at a face like that. "You’re such a nuisance. A…delightful one, arguably, but still a nuisance.”

"You find me delightful?"

"That's your takeaway?”

"Next thing I know you’ll be saying you fancy me.”

“I’m literally wearing your shirt right now.”

“Luce!” He turned and started down the hallway. “Y/N says I’m delightful!”

As usual, the four of them reconvened in the kitchen a little after lunch for a tea break. Well, the four of them minus Lockwood, who had been bullied into fixing a plumbing issue in the basement. They sipped their tea and chewed their biscuits in silence. She wished she could bring down a little for Lockwood.

“Maybe I should go see if he needs some help.”

“No!” George nearly upset his tea, which made Lucy choke on her biscuit. “ Don’t go down there. You’ll distract him, he won’t get shit done, and that’ll be one more week without hot water for me.”

So she sat back down sulkily, brooding over her tea, until another topic of conversation struck her.

“Speaking of Lockwood -“

“- no one’s mentioned Lockwood-“

“-did you guys see the socks he was wearing today?”

Lucy and George didn’t even try to muffle their groans.

“They were very nice socks! They had the most precious pattern of baby ducks against a darling blue backgr-“

She stopped short as Lucy reached across the table to grip her hand.

“Y/N, I say this with love, but if I have to hear one more word about Lockwood, or his stupid bloody socks, I am going to ram a fork into my eye.”

She blinked, confused, and scoffed. “Gosh, you guys are so overdramatic. I don’t talk about him that much.”

George and Lucy exchanged a look.

“Okay, so maybe I like my boyfriend and I enjoy talking about him. Is that really so bad?”

Lockwood rescued all of them from the siege of George’s response by walking in right then, holding a wrench and looking a little worse for wear, but appeared very pleased with himself.

“Fixed!”

“Finally.”

Lucy frowned at the clock above the stove. “Isn’t that client meeting at Tooting today?”

Lockwood’s smile slipped right off as he glanced at his watch and rushed out of the kitchen, muttering furiously. His simple black leather watch which complemented his wrist so perfectly-

“Y/N! Time to leave!”

Maybe George and Lucy had a point.

Once their client meeting had finished, she and Lockwood stood on the pavement outside the house, looking for cabs to flag down. It was a balmy evening, and a cloudless sky meant they could enjoy the warmth of the setting sun beating down on them. She squinted down the road while Lockwood pulled something out from his coat pocket.

“For a job well done this morning and at the meeting…” he revealed two pieces of tightly wrapped square candies sitting on his palm. “A little treat.”

She stared at the candy for a moment, thinking hard.

“Caramel! I just remembered.”

“…what?”

“That’s what we call it in the States. A caramel.”

“It’s made of caramel, sure-“

“Plural is caramels.”

He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat. “Changing an uncountable noun into a countable one? That’s just lazy.”

“Fine. What do you call it?”

“Toffee.” The vowels rolled off his tongue like silk in that English accent that had made it difficult to fully concentrate from day one. Standing next to him, watching him gently and methodically unfolding the golden wrapper, shining and glinting like a beacon of light…maybe this was all she needed to be happy.

“Taw-fee?”

He pulled a face at her exaggerated American drawl, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he pried apart the stuck halves of the toffee. She watched him visibly relax as the first tangy notes hit his tongue, her own half close to melting in her palm under the brunt of the setting sun. He met her gaze and gave a faint smile, almost reflexively covering her hand with his own.

“God, you’re so American. So, which is it? Toffee or caramel?”

She bites into what's left of the soft treat she's scraped off her palm. It's warm and comforting and she instantly feels a little more happy. Maybe it's the candy, or maybe it's the boy whose side is pressed into hers. Love, she decides. It's love.

“How many cups of tea have you had today?”

As idyllic as the weekend had been, they were back to their usual busy routine which meant that their evening tea break was the first time they’d see each other since breakfast. She had just walked into the kitchen where Lockwood was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a mess of papers with a cup of tea to the side. One of the first things she had learnt about Lockwood was his near-debilitating addiction to tea. Now, he silently took a sip from his mug and she gave an exaggerated sigh, settling into the opposite end of the table.

“You really drink too much caffeine.”

He quirked his lips into a lopsided half-smile -/ he peered at the papers she had spilled onto the table. “What’s all…” he gestured to her papers with his mug, “…that?”

“The Rotwell agents give me hell for my American accent when they’re on duty at DEPRAC.” She held up her list of words dolefully. “‘Least I can do is pronounce things right.”

He slid into the chair next to her, taking a look at the list. “Which one are you at?”

“Pri-vacy. Pri...vacy. Nope, can't do it.”

“Of course it sounds weird when you say it like that. Try using it in a sentence.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. If I have to say ‘pri-vacy’ one more time, I’m running you through with my rapier."

Lockwood choked on his tea.

"...or, you know...'pry-vacy' sounds perfectly fine."

She gave him a brief smile. “Anyway, I’ve got to do a Satchell’s run now. Lucy says we’re out of flares. Don’t wait up for me.”

It took her a decent amount of time to collect all the supplies they were out of stock on, yet when she returned Lockwood was still sitting in that same chair, staring at the same papers with worn-out eyes, distractedly tugging at his hair. He barely looked up when she walked in, mystified.

“You’re still up?”

He rubbed his face firmly. “I can’t…I can’t figure this out.” She took a closer look at the papers. There were reports dating back two centuries on the house of one of their upcoming cases.

“The investigation is tomorrow and I have no idea what or where the Source could be.”

“Well…maybe George’s figured it out.”

“If he did, he’d be home by now.” He hunched over the papers once again, his head swaying dangerously close to the table, and she was instantly reminded of how exhausted Lockwood had looked that morning. As if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. She started stacking some papers together.

“It’s getting late. We should head to bed.”

“But I’m not done yet.”

“You can continue in the morning, but right now, you need to rest.”

His features hardened like he was ready to start a fight, but it lasted all of half a second before they caved to exhaustion. He looked like a drenched cat left out in the rain, with his hair messed up and in disarray.

“George is still at the Archives. What kind of a boss would I be to go to bed now? What kind of a…friend?”

Lockwood leaned back in his chair, briefly pressing a hand to his eyes and then his forehead, his forearm trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed more skeleton than Man with his malnourished pallor and the scar on his lip being carefully outlined by a shadow. She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder.

“Hey. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re human, too.”

He gave a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll come in a while.”

“Promise?”

He gave a jerky nod. The tea in his mug had gone stone cold by then, and so she brewed him a fresh cup. He looked up, confused, as she placed it next to his papers.

“What about the caffeine?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and combed down the hair sticking up all haywire, as if she hadn’t heard him. “What about it?”

He smiled faintly and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze, and returned to his work with his eyes humming with a little more energy.

Later that night, she dreamt that he was falling, and she was losing her mind trying to save him.

She should have known nothing was going to right in the job from the very beginning. None of them had been able to find much information on the house, and they were running late, so tempers were running very high. Even during the case itself, they were forced to split up and fumble through improvised plans. That was until she had stumbled onto Lockwood frozen at the basement door, looking down into the darkness in a strange way.

Go back, he had said. I don’t know what any of us can expect in this place. So I’ll come with you, she had replied. Or let’s wait for George or Lucy. I can’t. Why not? It’s different. I don’t have the time to explain it. Different how?

You’re more important.

The look on his face was more foreign than the house itself.

Now they were home, back at Portland Row. Lucy and George had sensed something was off and retired to their rooms. Lockwood headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him. He hadn’t spoken a word since her face had blanched at the sight of him poised at the basement’s entrance. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She could feel an argument brewing and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Are you okay?”

Lockwood continued rummaging through the refrigerator for his routine drink of orange juice, taking his time to reply. “Don’t I look okay?”

“Yes. No.” He was terribly confusing. “Why did you say you weren’t important?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said you were less important.”

He finally twisted the cap off the carton with his trembling fingers. The case had shaken all of them up, but for some reason, he was trying to hide it.

“Well…it’s not not true.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I’m a figurehead, Y/N. I represent the agency, that’s my name on the plaque out there, but that’s about it. You, Lucy, George…you’re the soul of the agency.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If…heaven forbid, something were to happen to one of us…”

Oh, he was so aggravating. She massaged her temples. She was going to punch him soon if she wasn’t careful.

“…the lot of you’d be better off without me than anyone else, and-“

"Oh god, shut up already!"

Lockwood abandoned the carton and straightened, and they glared at each other from opposite ends of the kitchen. “Or what? You'll shoot me?"

His expression softened only marginally when he saw how close she was to tears. She shook her head.

"If you pull another stunt like this...I might just have to marry you.”

“I’d have to marry you so that you can look down at your bloody hand and remember that there are people out there who would be nothing without you.”

“Y/-“

“Shame on you, Anthony J. Lockwood. Do you think George wouldn’t care about losing his best friend? Or Lucy? Or me? Hm?”

The tears had started to trickle down her face, and he walked towards her with a sympathetic expression, any and all rage long forgotten, and offered her his handkerchief. She could barely manage a weak glare before caving and accepting it, wiping away at her face. As soon as she was done, she wrapped her arms around him, and he enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled faintly of vanilla.

“That was a…a terrible thing to say, Anthony.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well, you’re doing a pretty shitty job then. I’m worried about you every day.”

She felt rather than saw his smile, though he could perfectly picture it in her mind - uneven and tipped to the right, but perfectly sincere.

"Also, I'm pretty sure that shooting remark counts as xenophobia."

"Yes, I'm hugging you very xenophobically now."

She buried her face into his chest and scrunched her nose hard. It was moments like these that only cemented her faith that she was never going to find somebody who made her feel the way Lockwood did. Seeing him standing outside the basement, she didn’t even need to think about what to do next. It had become incredibly instinctual - her readiness to take his hand and hurtle into the latest oblivion, blind as a bat. It didn’t get more simple than this: she just wanted to be wherever he was.

It was him and her, and her and him - Portland Row’s cripplingly disaster couple, Mr A.J. Lockwood and Miss Americana.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #olivia rodrigo #guts spilled #so american #songfic

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