its everywhere. blue won. except people keep arguing either way. so lets do something else now.
question for the people who choose red, would you change your answer if everyone knew immediately what answer you picked ?
when blue wins, as proven it would, everyone knows exactly who picked red. would the social consequence of everyone knowing you picked red be a deterrent ?
does everyone knowing you chose red when blue wins deter you from choosing red?
yes, if everyone knows then i pick blue
no, im still picking red even with social consequences
i skipped through the kingdon ambulance scene during my first watch because kingdon and their fans piss me off so bad, but i just watched it for the first time fully, and i’m so fucking mad that i see it. i see the fucking tension.
still hate the ship and the fans but i get what you’re saying now.
I don't understand why people say they hate this or that ship. They are fictional characters from a TV show... there is actually zero reason to be all up in arms! People need to chill because wdym you're skipping parts of the episodes because people who enjoy the show are talking about it? Its a 2 minute interaction between them. Some people have big feelings and have a hard time not hiding behind the anon because then they would get called out for being ridiculous. Grow up and let other people enjoy the things that make them happy ffs
so you're telling me Frank relapsed, and then his first day sober was December 31st, the last day of the year. It is legitimately never too late to start again
SUMMARY : Joel needs a last-minute suit for Tommy’s wedding. You happen to be a tailor, one Joel didn’t expect to be so attracted to. Maybe those definitely-not-professional jokes you make mean you're not indifferent either?
WARNINGS : 18+ SMUT MDNI, no outbreak AU, no ellie, no y/n, slight age gap, oral m! recieving, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up people!), creampie, praise, pet names, so many innuendos, teasing, sexual tension, slightly insecure! Joel, fluff, slight inappropriate behaviour from reader but let’s close our eyes pls.
A/N: I wanted to write something from Joel’s POV this time, so this started as a quick oneshot & of course it ended up being much longer than I intended. Sorry not sorry about that! And because men in suits get me all hot and bothered here we are.... Full disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about tailoring beyond what Google has taught me for this fic, so apologies in advance for anything inaccurate!
Here on AO3 | 18 k (I dont know what came over me)
Joel definitely needed a new suit.
He knew it before he even looked in the mirror. Felt it the second he pulled the damn thing on. The jacket was too short for his arms. The shoulders hugged too tight. The fabric strained across his chest like it was begging for mercy. And the buttons? He couldn’t get a single one to close.
A puff of laughter came from behind him.
“When’s the last time you wore that thing?” Tommy asked, smirking from where he sat perched on the edge of Joel’s bed, watching his brother with far too much interest.
“Years ago,” Joel muttered with annoyance, tossing the jacket somewhere in his room.
The answer was vague, but he knew exactly when it was. Almost two decades ago, the day he and Sarah’s mother said yes in a courthouse. Too young and too rushed. The suit had been bought just days before, off the rack and not even altered. Even then, he hadn’t cared about the suit itself. It was just something he had to wear.
He never bought another one. Never needed to.
Joel lived in work pants, worn-in T-shirts and if you asked his daughter, way too many flannels. Suits were for men with office jobs or lives that required polishing. He didn’t have either. And they weren’t cheap, anyway. Raising a daughter on his own meant every extra dollar went to more important things: shoes she’d outgrow in a month, school supplies, dinners that didn’t come from a can.
Spending money on something as useless as a suit? Not a chance.
He’d kept this one tucked away in the back of the closet, thinking naively that it would still fit if he ever needed it. That time hadn’t changed him that much. But years of hard living, heavier lifting, and broader shoulders had reshaped him. And the suit hadn’t gotten the memo.
Tommy leaned back on his palms, eyebrows raised. “And you were plannin’ on wearin’ that to my wedding ?”
Joel shot him a look. “Didn’t figure it’d be this bad.”
“Joel… you couldn’t button it if your life depended on it.”
Joel grunted. “Didn’t ask for your commentary.”
Tommy just smirked. “Well, I can’t have my best man standin’ next to me at the altar lookin’ like that. Sure, it’d make me stand out more, but still.”
“I’ll find somethin’,” Joel said simply.
“I’m gettin’ married in two weeks,” Tommy said pointedly. “You should’ve figured out weeks ago that thing wasn’t gonna cut it.”
Joel didn’t have much of a defence. Truth was, Tommy was right. He’d had plenty of time, but between long hours at work, planning the bachelor party, helping out with wedding errands, and just… life, it had fallen to the bottom of the list. He wasn’t proud of it.
“You need a proper suit,” Tommy continued, standing now. He looked at Joel through the mirror, their reflections side by side. “Not somethin’ off the same rack you buy your flannels from. A real one. Somethin’ that fits. Tailored.”
“I got no need for that,” Joel muttered, already unbuttoning his shirt, eager to change into something comfortable.
“You do,” Tommy said, folding his arms. “For my wedding. For Sarah’s middle school graduation in a few years. Hell, for your own funeral if Maria sees you without a proper suit at our wedding.”
Joel barked a dry laugh despite himself. “That’s a threat?”
“It’s a guarantee,” Tommy said, grinning. “And Maria’ll back me up.”
Finally in something more comfortable, a soft cotton T-shirt and old jeans, Joel turned fully to his brother.
“And where the hell am I supposed to get a proper suit,” he echoed, dragging out the word with emphasis, “in two weeks?”
“Give me a sec,” Tommy said, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
Joel watched as his brother tapped out a quick text, thumbs flying. Probably to Maria. Who else? Tommy was hopeless over her — had been from the jump — and far as Joel could tell, he didn’t make a single decision without her blessing. Not that Joel minded. She was sharp, the kind of woman who always had a plan.
He glanced at his reflection again, at the man staring back in the quiet morning light.
A new suit ?
It wasn’t like ten years ago. Hell, it wasn’t even like five. Joel had built something since then. Built it from the ground up, with his own two hands. A good life. He and Tommy ran a solid contracting business. He had a two-story house with an actual yard. Sarah had everything she needed and more.
And for once, he had a little room to think about himself, not just what was necessary. He could afford it. A real suit. Something that wasn’t just practical or durable or bought on clearance. Something that might actually make him feel… good. Confident. Hell, maybe even a little handsome. Not that Joel thought he was an ugly man, never had. He knew how he came across. Rugged, solid. That quiet, hard-working edge that some women seemed to like. He didn’t have the easy charm Tommy had, but he held his own. But it had been a long time since he felt it for himself. Since he’d looked in a mirror and seen someone worth dressing up. Worth the effort.
“Maria’s got a place,” Tommy said, cutting through Joel’s thoughts. “Tailor shop over near East 6th. She says if you tell them you’re comin’ on her word, they’ll squeeze you in. Deadline and all.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Joel gave him a look. “What else did Maria say?”
A grin spread across Tommy’s face. “That you better be the world’s most polite client. Or she’ll personally kick your ass.”
Joel huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”
That’s how, later that day, with the sun dipping low behind the buildings, Joel found himself standing in front of a little shop he’d never noticed before. Not that he drove this stretch of road often, but still, he’d lived in Austin his whole damn life. He liked to think he knew the city pretty well.
Then again, there’d never been a reason to notice it before.
Frank & Co. Tailoring.
The lettering on the sign was neat, understated. Just enough to catch the eye if you were searching for it. The place was classy, but not showy. The wood-panelled front had a warm, worn-in charm, the kind that said the shop had been around a while, quietly doing good work. In the window, a few sharp-looking jackets stood on mannequins, their fabrics catching the last of the afternoon light. Below them, a neat rack of ties and bow ties added colour, from deep blues to muted reds and subtle patterns, all carefully arranged to invite a second look.
Joel leaned closer, peering through the glass. His brow furrowed; the place looked empty. He wondered, for a beat, if he was too late. He’d meant to get there earlier, but work, as it often did, had dragged longer than planned. He hadn’t even changed out of his slightly dusty clothes. Not the worst shape he’d ever been in after a day on site, but still… it felt like he should’ve made more of an effort.
But the lights were still on, and the little sign hanging on the door clearly read Open . So after brushing some dust off his pants like that was gonna make any real difference, Joel stepped inside.
A bell above the door chimed softly as he entered, and a voice called from somewhere in the back. “I’ll be there in a sec!”
He stood there a moment, hands at his sides, suddenly very aware of how out of place he felt. The shop was smaller than he expected, but not in a bad way. Just… personal, he’d say. Wood tones, soft lighting, rows of folded shirts and fabric samples displayed with care. A few mannequins stood off to the side, dressed in sharp, clean lines, everything neatly arranged: charcoal suits, earth-toned linens, deep navy wools. All of it well-made and tasteful.
Joel moved toward the front counter, his eyes drifting as he walked. Off to the side, he spotted what had to be the fitting area: a tall mirror framed in dark wood, a low platform in front of it, a tape measure draped over a nearby stool like someone had just stepped away mid-task. Private enough that someone standing there wouldn’t be seen from the front window. Toward the back, through an open doorway, he could make out what had to be the workroom: bolts of fabric, half-finished pieces on hangers and the low buzz of a machine humming somewhere out of sight.
Almost without thinking, his fingers brushed over the sleeve of a red velvet jacket. Bold. Not his style in the slightest, but even he could tell it was quality. The fabric was soft under his fingertips. It made him wonder for a second what kind of man wore something like that and didn’t feel like a damn fool doing it.
“Hi! Sorry for the wait. How can I help you?”
Joel turned toward the voice. And stopped. You weren’t what he expected.
Maybe it was the movies' fault, but when he thought of a tailor, he pictured an older man, probably bald, Italian for some reason, with a measuring tape around his neck and a heavy accent like the place doubled as a front for some mafia. He didn’t expect a woman, younger than him by maybe ten years, hair a little tousled, like you hadn’t planned on more clients tonight. An easy, professional smile. Warm eyes.
Pretty . That was the word that struck him first, clear and fast.
He cleared his throat, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “I, uh... I need a suit.”
You gave him another smile and slid behind the counter, setting the folded fabric you’d been holding onto the back of a nearby chair. “Well, you’re in the right place, then. What’s the occasion?”
“A wedding,”
“Oh, lovely.” You reached for the small notebook resting near the register and flipped it open, pen already in hand. “When’s the big day?”
“In two weeks.”
You froze mid-scribble. Slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. “Two weeks?” you repeated, like maybe you hadn’t heard him right — or hoped you hadn’t.
He gave a small, sheepish shrug. “Yeah.”
You blinked once. The edge of a smile was tugging at his mouth. You were looking at him like he’d just told you he’d shown up for brain surgery with a pocketknife.
“Maria sent me,” he added, as if that might help.
That earned a very different reaction.
“Did she now?” you sighed, setting your notebook down a little harder than necessary. Joel noticed the way your brows pinched in what looked like familiar frustration. “Fucking hell,” you muttered under your breath.
But Joel heard it, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close.
You spun back around a second later, as if remembering he was still there. “Sorry. That wasn’t very professional.”
“S’all right. I know this isn’t exactly a normal request.”
You exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Making a full suit in two weeks is…”
“Impossible?”
You gave a tired, dry laugh. “Definitely difficult.”
There was a pause, and Joel figured this was the part where you told him no. And fair enough, he wouldn’t blame you. Two weeks was damn near impossible, and he’d left it too late. A suit off the rack would do. Not great, not impressive, but it would do. Tommy might roll his eyes, but I'll be too busy at his wedding to do anything about it. He didn't want to think about what Maria might say to him, or the way she might scold him like he was a child. Sarah… well, he could already imagine the look on her sweet face. Disappointed, but trying not to show it.
But then, instead of sending him away, you pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, nodding toward the other one across from you.
“Have a seat.”
Joel hesitated, just for a second, then did as told.
“Do you know what kind of suit you’re looking for?” you asked, reaching for your notebook again.
“What kind?” he echoed, brow furrowed.
“There’s classic, slim fit, modern fit, double-breasted, three-piece, tuxedo, unstructured—” you rattled them off quickly, like someone who didn’t have time to waste.
Joel held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa…slow down.”
You laughed, soft but amused, and Joel found himself leaning just slightly toward the sound.
“Sorry,” you said, not sounding sorry at all. “Tight deadline. If we’re doing this, I need to get started tonight.”
“Right. Sorry.”
You shook your head, more gently this time. “Don’t apologise. It’s my job. Just trying to get a read on what we’re working with.” You clicked your pen. “Have you ever had a tailored suit before?”
“Never,” he admitted, like it was something he maybe should’ve been embarrassed about.
But you just nodded, unfazed. “That’s totally fine. Do you at least know what you like?”
The look in his eyes told you everything. You didn’t wait for him to fumble for an answer.
“Take a look around,” you offered, gesturing to the space. “Is there anything here that stands out to you? Something close to what you're picturing for yourself?”
Joel turned his head, taking his time as his eyes moved across the room. He glanced at a few mannequins before his gaze landed on one near the back.
“That one,” he said, nodding toward it. “I guess.”
You followed his gaze and gave a thoughtful little hum. “Alright. Clean cut, traditional silhouette.” You tapped your pen lightly against the notebook. “Are we talking black? Or are we open to a little colour?”
“Black,” he said, and the amused lift of your eyebrow made him wonder if you’d already guessed that would be his answer.
“Can’t go wrong with that,” you murmured with a small nod as you flipped to a new page. “Any want for the fabric?”
Joel hesitated, searching for the right words. “I want somethin’ that lasts. Somethin’ I can wear again if I ever need to.”
You smiled softly, like that was the right answer. “Timeless, then.”
Turning to one of the nearby shelves, you pulled a few fabric samples from a wooden tray and laid them out in front of him. You explained each one — worsted wool, twill and more — pointing out the subtle differences. How some were softer, others more durable. How they caught light differently. How some aged beautifully, and others needed a little more care. Your fingers moved over each fabric with ease, and Joel found himself watching your hands more than the cloth.
He listened more intently than he expected to. Maybe it was the calm certainty in your voice, or the way you clearly knew what you were talking about without making him feel dumb for not knowing it himself. You spoke with the kind of quiet confidence that only came from being good at what you did, and caring about it.
It was… nice, he thought. Watching someone be good at something. Watching you.
After a few more questions, things about budget, lapel preferences, if he wanted anything embroidered (he didn’t), you moved on, your pen scratching notes across the page. You asked about accessories next.
“Do you need coordinated pieces? Tie, bow tie?”
“A bow tie,” Joel said, watching the way your lips twitched into the faintest smile.
You nodded. “Pocket square? Always a good way to add a little pop of color.”
He gave a noncommittal hum. “Maybe.”
“Perfect way to match with your wife’s dress, for example,” you added, smiling.
“No wife,” he said quickly. Maybe too quickly?
You looked up at that, and Joel noticed the brief flick of your eyes to his hand, confirming the absence of a ring. He felt his gaze drop to yours in return. Also no ring. But that didn’t mean anything. Maybe you didn’t wear one at work. Maybe you weren’t married. Maybe you were.
“No one to match with, then?” you asked, tone casual, but there was something in the way you said it. A thread of curiosity woven in, just enough for him to notice.
Was that just good customer service? Or something more? A subtle way of asking if he was spoken for? He couldn’t be sure.
Joel shifted slightly. “I’ll check with the groom. See if there’s a color I need to match. If not…” He hesitated, just for a moment. “Might match with my daughter instead.”
Your face softened. “That’s sweet,” you said, and meant it. “Well, no rush on that. You let me know when you find out.”
You glanced down at your notes, flipping back through the pages as if checking your list, making sure you had everything you needed.
“Well,” you said after a moment, “the good news is you’re not asking for anything too over-the-top.”
“I’m not exactly known for my bold fashion sense,” Joel replied dryly.
You shrugged lightly, not even looking up. “Good-looking men don’t need a loud suit to stand out anyway.”
It was offhand, almost dismissive, like it wasn’t meant to land as a compliment. But it did. Joel’s eyes widened a little, not expecting that. You were already back on your notes, like you hadn’t just called him good-looking, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe to you, it was. Still, the words settled in him. A flicker of something quiet and pleased. It wasn’t vanity exactly, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing that you looked at him and saw a man worth noticing. That the interest wasn’t entirely one-sided.
You were focused again, pen gliding across the page as you started drafting the order summary: measurements, fabric, deadlines, deposit terms. But midway through, your hand paused. You looked up at him, eyes meeting his again. You had pretty eyes.
“I forgot to ask your name,” you realised.
“I’m Joel,” he replied, reaching out his hand automatically. “Joel Miller.”
There was a flicker in your expression at the name. Something small, but noticeable. Recognition, maybe? Or something else he couldn’t quite place. But before he could dwell on it, you were already offering your own name along with your hand. The handshake was brief and professional, but something about it lingered. The warmth of your skin, the subtle firmness of your grip. When you let go and his hand dropped back to his side, Joel felt his fingers twitch slightly.
Once you were done, you slid the document across the counter, letting Joel skim through it. Everything looked in order. He picked up the pen, signed with a steady hand, and passed it back to you.
As you stood, he did the same, instinctively mirroring your movement. When you walked around the front desk, he assumed it was to politely see him out, and turned toward the door.
But he’d barely taken a few steps when your voice came from behind him.
“Where are you going?”
Joel paused, half-turning back. You weren’t following. You were standing near the fitting area, head tilted slightly like you were trying not to laugh.
He blinked. “I thought we were done for now?” he offered, glancing toward the shop window, where the sun had all but slipped beneath the horizon. “Didn’t mean to keep you. It’s almost night out.”
“Well, Miller,” you said, tone light but pointed as you crossed your arms, “if you want that suit ready for this wedding, I need to take those measurements tonight.”
“Measurements?”
You gave him another look, amused, a little exasperated, but still smiling. “Yes, measurements,” you said, drawing the word out like he was being deliberately slow. “I know I’m very good at what I do, but I haven’t quite figured out how to make a custom suit without them.”
Right. Yeah. That tracked. He hadn’t expected it to happen tonight, though. He figured you’d give him an appointment, send him on his way, and get to it sometime in the next few days.
“And… you’re the one taking them?” he asked, and he knew the moment the words left his mouth that you caught the flicker of surprise in his tone. It wasn’t about your skill. He had no doubt you were very capable. Hell, he just spent less than twenty minutes with you, and he already thought you were excellent. It was the realisation that you were going to be the one putting hands on him. He’d assumed there was someone else. Frank — that was the name on the shop window, wasn’t it? An older man in the back room with a measuring tape around his neck, doing this part of the job.
Not you.
You tilted your head, that same teasing glint in your eyes. “My uncle usually handles the men’s measurements,” you explained, like this wasn’t the first time you’d had to say it. Men either got awkward or a little too enthusiastic once they realised that this was also part of your job. “But he’s on vacation until next week. If you’re uncomfortable, I can reschedule you for when he’s back. But...” You didn’t need to finish that sentence.
Joel did it for you. “I’ve got a deadline.”
Your smile deepened. “Then I’m all you’ve got, Miller.”
There was a beat of silence. Joel cleared his throat, the sound a little rougher than it needed to be. “Okay then,” he said finally. “Guess I’m in your hands.”
“Lucky you.”
Joel walked back the few steps he’d taken. “Where do you want me?”
The corner of your mouth lifted just slightly, like you were holding back an answer. Instead, you tilted your head toward the raised platform near the large mirror, tucked in the corner of the shop. “Over there.”
He followed your gesture, noting how the soft, golden lighting of the room caught in your hair, making it glow. He tried not to notice, but he did.
“Take off your jacket for me, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,”
You let out a quiet hum as you turned away to retrieve your measuring tape. When you turned back, he was already standing tall on the platform, his jacket draped over a nearby chair.
Your gaze moved over him. It was quick. Professional. Measured. But not entirely detached. The subtle tilt of your head, the way your eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary. Joel told himself not to read into it. He reminded himself this was just part of the process. That you weren’t really looking. Not like that.
Even if, for a second, it felt like maybe you were.
“Well,” you murmured, your eyes sweeping over him one last time, “you’re a lot broader than I expected.”
Joel blinked, not sure what to make of that. It could’ve been a purely professional observation but the way you said it made it land differently. Or maybe that was just him, reading too much into everything.
“Is that a bad thing?”
You didn’t hesitate. “Not in my opinion.”
Was it a compliment? Just a statement of fact?
You stepped closer, measuring tape in hand, and gave him a quick, teasing smile. “Alright, Miller. I’m gonna need to get my hands on you,” you said, voice smooth with amusement. “Hope that’s not a problem.”
Joel opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t sure how to answer that without sounding like a teenager. Because no, it definitely wasn’t a problem. Quite the opposite. So he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Go ahead.”
You gave a knowing little smile, as if you’d heard what he didn’t say, and moved into his space. “I’ll start with your neck circumference,” you said, raising your hands, measuring tape between your fingers.
Joel stood still as you moved, watching as you rose onto your toes to loop the tape around his neck. He was quite taller than you, and the platform added just enough height to make the reach difficult for you.
“You want me to crouch or somethin’?” he asked, brow lifting as he glanced down.
You just smiled. “It’s alright. I’ve handled bigger.”
Joel breathed a little heavier. He wasn’t sure if you meant it to sound that way. You didn’t seem to register what you’d just said, or maybe you did, and you were very good at pretending otherwise. Either way, you carried on.
Joel said nothing. He couldn’t trust his mouth not to betray what his brain was doing, which, at the moment, was a mess of thoughts he had no business entertaining. His jaw tightened slightly as your fingers brushed the side of his throat, the tape snug against his skin. You stood so close now, barely a breath between you. He could feel the warmth of you, could smell something faint and clean on your skin, your perfume or shampoo probably, something sweet that made his chest tighten for no good reason.
He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. And when you stepped back a second later, noting the number with a little nod before writing it in your notebook, he swore the air felt colder without your touch.
“Shoulders,” you murmured.
Your fingers brushed over the top of his shirt, finding one shoulder seam, then carefully extending the tape across to the other. Joel held still, jaw tense. He was looking at your face again before he could stop himself. The subtle crease between your brows, the way your bottom lip caught briefly between your teeth as you made sure the tape sat just right.
“Chest now,” you said softly after noting the new number down.
You stepped back in, close enough that the brush of your arms sent a pulse straight through him. You wrapped the tape around his chest, your fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt with just enough pressure to make him notice. Your hands lingered a second longer than they strictly needed to. You hummed, pleased, maybe even appreciative, and Joel couldn’t stop the subtle inhale that followed, chest rising just slightly under your hands. His pulse kicked harder. You didn’t comment. Just shifted lower, sliding the tape down around his waist.
“Hold still.”
You worked methodically, adjusting the tape around his midsection with firm, careful movements. Your knuckles grazed over his belt as you adjusted the measurement, and Joel had to lock his hands at his sides, fingers curling into his palms to keep from reacting. He could feel the warmth of your body near his, the brush of your wrist, the ghost of touch through his shirt. He was sure you weren’t doing anything intentionally; you were just doing your job, but Christ, his body didn’t know the difference.
Next came sleeve length and arm circumference, and still you didn’t rush. Your touch was feather-light, barely there, the backs of your fingers grazing his forearm as you measured from shoulder to wrist, then wrapped around the thickest part of his bicep.
“You go to the gym, Miller?” you suddenly asked with just enough edge to make him wonder if you were teasing.
“No?” he replied quickly, trying not to let his voice betray anything he was feeling at the moment.
You glanced up at him, one brow raised. “Could have fooled me”
He didn’t have time to respond or think about what, exactly, you were implying before you stepped around him again and moved on. You crouched slightly, measuring his wrist, your fingers circling his skin with quiet precision. Then you stepped around him to measure his hips. Joel locked his jaw and focused on breathing. Every touch made him feel self conscious. And he knew you weren’t trying to fluster him. You were just doing your job. But every so often, he caught a look: a glint in your eyes, a hint of knowing in your smile, and wondered if you weren’t enjoying this just a little.
He swallowed hard. If you were, you hid it well.
He tried to focus on anything else. The soft scratch of your pen as you paused to jot down another number. The sound of distant traffic beyond the shop window. The quiet hum of jazz drifted from a speaker in the corner of the shop. Anything but the heat crawling up the back of his neck.
But then your eyes lifted to his, a smirk tugging at the edge of your mouth. “Spread your legs for me, Miller.”
His breath caught, sharp in his throat. “...Sorry?”
You gave him an entirely innocent look, but the sparkle in your eyes told a different story. “For your inseam. I need to measure it. You know… for the pants?”
Right. Of course.
He shifted, clearing his throat as he obeyed, feet spreading slightly apart. This was normal. Routine. You probably did this a dozen times a week.
Still, Joel’s body didn’t seem to care about that fact. You crouched in front of him, and he tried, really tried, not to think about anything he shouldn’t. Not about how close your face was to his zipper. Not about how your fingers moved with quiet precision along his inner thigh. Not about what it might feel like if this were a different kind of situation entirely. Fewer clothes. A lot more touching.
He absolutely shouldn’t be thinking about the shape of your mouth. Or how those lips might feel wrapped around his—
Jesus.
Your voice broke the spiral, smooth and steady. “Open your legs just a little more…”
He hesitated, just a beat too long, and then you glanced up at him with a sly little smile that nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“Come on, Miller,” you teased. “Don’t be shy. I need every inch .”
Okay. There was no way you weren’t doing this on purpose.
Joel stood frozen for half a second, caught between disbelief and the slow burn building under his skin. He didn’t know whether he was supposed to laugh, clear his throat, or just walk straight out the door and into the cool night air until his head stopped spinning. But he didn’t move. Couldn’t.
He clenched his jaw. He had to use every single ounce of willpower not to let the image settle exactly where it wanted to. His fingers twitched at his sides, and he forced them to stay there, not to fist in your hair, not to drag you closer, and do everything his mind was thinking about. But his body wasn’t listening. Not when your hand brushed the inside of his thigh to adjust the tape. Not when you looked up through your lashes with that smile like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.
And maybe you did. Maybe you meant for him to stand here, rigid and barely breathing, fighting the very real, very telling reaction threatening to make this whole thing impossible to ignore.
This was dangerous. You were dangerous.
You tilted your head, smiling just enough to make him feel like you’d noticed every one of his reactions and were choosing not to comment on any of them.
Joel shifted slightly, widening his stance as you’d asked. And just like that, you went back to work, cool and composed, as if the heat crawling under his skin wasn’t radiating off him in waves. As if none of this affected you. Like you weren’t kneeling between his thighs with your hands so goddamn close, and your voice still lingering in his head.
He stayed quiet, letting you move around him, your hands efficient. What if you weren’t trying to rile him up? What if this wasn’t anything more than routine to you? Just another suit fitting, another client? God, maybe you said the exact same things to everyone?
Something twisted in his chest. What if all of this, the touch, the look, the low voice, was just him seeing what he wanted to see? Reading into nothing because he was just… starved. For something as small as a look, a smile, a moment of attention from a beautiful woman like you? What if he was just a tired, lonely man letting his body betray him in a tailor shop because someone had been kind? The thought lodged like a stone in his throat.
The shame crept in slowly but sharply; hot behind his ears, down his neck. He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead, grounding himself with the weight of it. He couldn’t afford to be wrong about this. The mere idea of you looking at him with disgust, of realizing what was going through his mind, was enough to make him freeze. Enough to shame him into stillness, into silence.
He forced himself to breathe, to think of anything else. The old woman across his street with too many cats and a porch full of junk. That goddamn client who changed his mind every damn week and left him redoing work for free. Maria’s face if she ever found out what he was thinking right now. The disappointment in her eyes. Her fury. He’d never hear the end of it.
This was nothing. A fitting. Just fabric and numbers and tape. That’s all it was supposed to be.
Joel let you finish your work in silence. You moved around him with practiced ease, measuring his thigh, then the circumference of his knees efficiently. He appreciated that you didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to fill the space with small talk or more of those comments he couldn’t quite figure out. Just a quick glance now and then, probably to make sure he was standing right. He kept his eyes forward, staring at a fixed point on the far wall, like it might anchor him.
“Alright,” you finally said, straightening up with a soft stretch. “That’s all I need. Thank you for your patience. You can step down.”
He gave a short nod and stepped off the platform, reaching for his jacket without a word. As he pulled it back on, you were already making your way to the front desk, flipping open your notebook and jotting another thing down. Joel followed, slower this time, careful not to walk too close behind you, careful not to let his thoughts wander again.
You looked up and offered him a smile that was all business now, but still warm.
“Well,” you said, “I think I’ve got everything I need to get started. Would you be able to come back in… let’s say, a week?” You tapped your pen thoughtfully against your lip. “I should have the base of your suit ready for the first fitting by then. If we’re lucky, one fitting will be enough.”
“Sure. What time should I come back?”
“Same time works if it does for you,” you replied, eyes flicking up to meet his again. “I don’t mind late nights.”
That last part lingered in the air a half-second too long.
“Fine by me,” he said, grateful that it wouldn’t pull him away from work.
You scribbled something final into your notes, then shut the notebook with a quiet snap. “Perfect, then,” you said, and looked up again. This time, your gaze lingered on his for a second, mouth parting like you were about to say something else, but then you didn’t. He took that as his cue to leave.
Joel tapped a knuckle lightly against the desk. “Thanks again… for takin’ this on. Appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.” You smiled softly. “See you next week, Miller.”
“Yeah,” he said, backing toward the door with a short nod. “See you then.”
The bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped out. The evening air hit him square in the chest, and he still felt warm, more than he should’ve. Like your voice was still curling in his ear, your fingertips still ghosting over his skin.
He walked toward his truck with his jacket half-zipped, hands shoved into his pockets. Trying not to think too hard. He told himself he was being stupid. Reading into things that weren’t there. He really shouldn't think about you.
But later that night, when his cock was hard and aching in his hand, it was you he couldn’t stop thinking about. The way you’d looked up at him from your knees, lips slightly parted, like you were ready to taste him the second he let you. He imagined the soft, desperate sounds you might make with his hand tangled in your hair. The way you'd moan if he’d bent you over that front desk. And when he finally came, spilling over his knuckles and stomach, it was your name that slipped out of his lips.
The week passed both too slowly and far too quickly for Joel.
He would’ve lied if he’d said he hadn’t thought about you. In truth, your face crossed his mind more than he cared to admit. Stupid things stuck with him: the tilt of your smile, the sound of your laugh, the soft way your fingers had brushed his skin when you took his measurements. He’d spent less than an hour with you, and yet he couldn’t seem to get you out of his mind.
Even Tommy had noticed something was off. His younger brother kept shooting him looks every time Joel was deep in thought. When one morning Tommy asked, “How’s that suit comin’ along?” Joel barely looked up from his cup of coffee.
“Fine,” he said simply. He didn’t trust himself to say more. Tommy knew him too well. One extra word, and he’d start digging. And Joel really didn't want to explain he was like that over what was basically a crush . Christ. A crush. He was pushing forty for godamn sake. He wasn’t some daydreaming kid anymore; he was a grown man who really shouldn't be thinking so much about you.
But here he was, exactly a week later, parked in front of the shop, leaning against his truck, wondering if he looked like a fool.
Because this time, he had made an effort. He’d left work early just to shower, change into a clean shirt that didn’t smell like drywall and sweat, and even put on cologne. Not just deodorant. Cologne . The one Sarah got him last Christmas, the nice kind.
His hand raked through his hair for what had to be the tenth time. He’d tried to slick it back before leaving, but on the drive over, his nerves had undone most of the effort. Now it just looked tousled and unruly, and he hoped it didn’t give the impression he’d just got out of bed.
He let out a heavy breath. He shouldn't be so nervous for a fitting. One last glance in the truck’s side mirror. One last adjustment to his shirt collar. Then he finally stepped inside, the bell above the door jingling as he did.
This time, someone else was in the shop. A man, a bit older than Joel, was adjusting a jacket on one of the mannequins near the window. He looked up immediately at the sound, turning toward him with a practised smile.
“Good evening,” he said, his voice warm and professional. “What can I help you with today?”
“Hi, I’m Joel Miller,” he said as the door shut softly behind him. “I’m here for a fitting?” His eyes flicked around, instinctively searching for you. But you weren’t out front.
At the sound of Joel’s name, something shifted in the man’s expression. His smile widened, like he knew something Joel didn’t. He turned toward the back of the shop and called your name.
“Your appointment’s here!”
A muffled response floated from the workroom: “Coming!” At the sound of your voice, Joel stood just a little straighter.
The man turned back to him, his eyes gave Joel a once-over, just enough to feel like he noticed the neat collar, the fresh shirt, the clean shave. His smile grew just a little bit wider, and he offered his hand. “I’m Frank. This is my shop.”
Joel shook it politely. “Nice to meet you.”
“Come on, she’ll be right out,” Frank said, gesturing toward the fitting area. “She’s been working pretty hard on your suit, you know? You’re gonna look sharp.”
“Sorry if I made too much work for her,” Joel muttered, adjusting the strap of his watch.
Frank waved it off. “Don’t be. She doesn’t seem to mind. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her this invested in a piece.” He paused, glancing toward the back room again, then added with a hint of amusement, “Especially for something as simple as a classic suit…You’d think she was tailoring for a celebrity the way she’s been fussing over it.”
Joel shifted his weight, not quite sure what to do with Frank’s comment. Surely, you were just passionate about your work?
Before Frank could say anything else, you appeared from the back, brushing your hands on your hips. “Sorry! Just had to finish a last detail,” and then your eyes landed on him. “Hey,” you said softly, your smile warm, which Joel couldn’t help but mirror immediately.
“Hi.”
Frank cleared his throat politely, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Unless you need me to stay and supervise?”
“I think I can handle it,” you replied smoothly, without looking at him.
Frank only chuckled, grabbing a few papers from behind the counter. “I’m sure.” His voice was teasing, and Joel caught the way you rolled your eyes at him without missing a beat. The older man moved toward the door, lifting a hand in farewell. “Call me if you need anything. And Miller?” He gave Joel a quick, almost conspiratorial smile. “I hope you like the suit.”
“I’m sure I will,” Joel said, offering a polite nod as Frank stepped out, the bell above the door jingling as he disappeared into the street.
You watched the door for a moment, then turned back to Joel, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, let’s get to it… unless you’re planning on staying the night.”
Joel blinked. Just an harmless joke, but the image of what a night with you would look like hit him fast and uninvited. He pushed it away before it could settle.
“Hope I didn’t give you too much trouble,” he said, clearing his throat as you gestured toward the fitting area.
You let out a soft laugh. “I won’t lie, my sleep schedule’s seen better days.”
“Sorry,” he offered genuinely. But you looked over your shoulder with an easy smile.
“Don’t be. I liked working on it.”
Joel smiled faintly. “So I heard.”
You shot him a puzzled look. “How so ?”
“Frank.”
You groaned softly, and Joel couldn’t help but smile at the mix of affection and annoyance in your expression.
You disappeared into the back room for a moment and returned with the suit folded neatly in your arms. You nodded toward the small changing alcove at the far end of the room, separated from the rest by a simple curtain.
“Here,” you said, offering the suit to him. “Go ahead and change into it.”
Joel took it from you, careful as his fingers brushed yours. His jaw tightened at the touch. Christ, he really, really , needed to stop reacting like a teenager with a school crush.
“Call me if you need help putting it on,” you added with a small, playful smile.
He didn’t know if you were joking. He hoped you were joking. But there was something in your tone that made it hard to tell, just like last time. You gave him another smile as he stepped behind the curtain and tugged it shut.
The suit felt soft beneath his fingers. Smoother and heavier than anything he owned. He could already tell it was quality. He started undressing, taking off his jacket, then his shirt. His fingers worked quickly over his belt, and soon he was down to nothing but his boxers and socks. He stood there for a moment in the quiet of the curtained alcove, his hands paused at his hips.
Outside, he could hear you humming softly, some tune he didn’t recognise. Probably working on a mannequin while you waited. He turned toward the mirror, catching his reflection, and he hesitated.
What would you think if you saw him like this?
It was a stupid question, but it was still rooted in his mind. He looked at himself longer than he meant to. He wasn’t soft, not exactly, but he wasn’t built like the kind of man who hit the gym five days a week either. His body wasn’t bad. Broad shoulders, thick arms from years of heavy lifting and construction work, strong legs that could still carry their weight. But the soft curve of his stomach reminded him that he wasn’t twenty-five anymore. He didn’t have the abs the guys in magazines did. Never had. His muscles were earned, not sculpted. His stomach was softer now than it was in his twenties, curved slightly under the line of his ribs. A bit of age. A bit of life. A bit of beer and second helpings.
He wondered if that would matter to someone like you. Someone younger, with sharp eyes, surrounded by beautiful things all day. Maybe that’s what you liked in people, too.
He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. He began to get dressed, pulling on the tailored trousers with care, then slipping his arms into the dark dress shirt. With the jacket on, he took a breath and turned to the mirror again to finally see himself. Dressed in all black. Clean lines. The structure emphasised his shoulders, slimmed his waist, and lengthened the line of his legs. The fit wasn’t perfect yet; he could feel it. A slight pull at the chest when he shifted his arms, the pants still a bit too long at the ankle. Even with that, it already looked very nice.
He stepped out from behind the curtain. You turned at the sound, and your eyes landed on him. You didn't speak, just looked him over, taking your time, top to bottom. Your eyes were focused, not just admiring but evaluating. Joel felt himself stand just a little bit straighter under your watchful eyes. Then you met his gaze and smiled, proud and a little pleased with yourself.
“Looking good Miller.”
He gave a small huff, not quite a laugh, and ran a hand down the front of the jacket, adjusting it more out of instinct than need. “That right?”
You crossed your arms, eyes lingering a second too long. “Mm-hmm. You fill it out nicely. Not every man can.”
He met your gaze, and a part of him wanted to ask: What makes me different, then? But he didn’t.
“How does the suit feel?” you asked, stepping a little closer.
“Feels good,” he said honestly. “I like it.”
Your smile in response was warm and unguarded, a look he really liked on you. “I’m glad.” You gestured toward the small raised platform. “Can you step up? I want to see you better.”
Joel nodded and moved into place, the soft creak of the wood under his feet the only sound for a moment. You circled him slowly, your practised eye sweeping over every seam and line, noting where the fabric hugged him right and where it didn’t.
You stepped in front of him again, pulling a small cushion of pins from your wrist. “Alright. I’ll need to mark some spots for adjustment. Don’t worry,” you added with a small grin, “I’ll be gentle.”
Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Hope so.”
You started at his shoulders, gently tugging at the fabric there, smoothing it, fingertips dragging just enough to feel the weight of him beneath. Joel stood still, solid as a statue, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened when your hand brushed the curve of his bicep.
You tugged gently on the sleeve of his jacket, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Feels tight here?” you asked, brushing your fingers over the fabric along his upper arm.
Joel flexed just slightly. “A little. Not much.”
You nodded, pinching the seam to mark the alteration. “I’ll let it out a quarter inch. Should give you enough room to move.”
You stepped around him again, the scent of your perfume brushing past him as you moved behind. Sweet, like last time.
“Arms up,” you instructed gently.
He did, and you took that moment to tug at the fabric under the arms, smoothing it again against his body. Your fingers brushed lightly across the fabric at his back, marking something near his shoulder blade.
“Gonna open the jacket now,” you said, already reaching for the buttons. Your fingers worked them open one by one, and Joel didn’t move, just watched you, half entranced by the quiet focus on your face and the way your hands moved. He couldn't help but enjoy the sight of you. Couldn't help but think about how many times this week he'd imagined you late at night, undressing him slowly just like that.
You peeled the jacket back over his shoulders, and he slipped his arms free without a word. He passed it to you, and you handled it with care, folding it across one arm before setting it down neatly on the chair nearby. Then your eyes returned to him, checking how the shirt sat against his chest. You touched the buttons next, fingers sliding down the centre of his torso as if to test for tightness. You stopped near his belt line, fingers still resting there, the pressure light but still too heavy for Joel.
“Shirt fits pretty well already,” you said, glancing up at him again. “Though I might have to tighten the waist just a little.”
Joel’s voice came out low. “Whatever you think’s best.”
His hands itched to move, to adjust his watch, run a hand through his hair. Maybe even touch your waist. Just lightly, just once . But he kept them clenched at his sides.
“Alright,” you said, stepping back. “Let’s talk pants. How do they feel?”
“A little tight,” he admitted. “Mostly around the knees.”
“Okay… Take a few steps for me please? I want to see how they sit when you move.”
He nodded and stepped down from the wooden platform. He took a few slow steps toward you, then turned, walking away so you could assess the fit from behind.
You clicked your tongue softly. “Little extra fabric here. I’ll smooth it out for a cleaner line across the back.” You looked back at him with a smile. “Thank you. Go ahead and step back up.”
Joel obeyed without a word, and he barely had time to settle before you crouched in front of him. His breath caught in his throat, same as last time. Maybe worse.
Don’t move. Don’t think .
He stayed still, eyes anywhere but on you, barely breathing, as you pressed your fingers to the end of the pants, checking how the length sat around his ankles. “Little loose,” you murmured, half to yourself, before reaching for a pin.
You moved slowly, your hands travelling from the bottom hem upward. Fingertips smoothed fabric over his shins, then over his knees. You adjusted a small fold and pinned it, working with quiet concentration. When your fingers skimmed over the inside of his thigh, flattening the fabric there, he clenched his jaw.
“Fabric pulls here when you walk,” you said. “I’ll let it out just a bit.”
He nodded, stiff, afraid his voice would betray him if he opened his mouth.
“You alright?” you asked lightly, as if your fingers weren't getting closer to the most sensitive parts of him.
“Yeah,” he managed. “Just standin’ real still.”
“Mmh,” you hummed. “You’re doing great.”
And as your hands reached the top of his inseam, fussing with a pin just inches from his growing problem, Joel squeezed his eyes shut. He could already feel the unmistakable pressure building beneath his waistband. Half hard and rising, despite his best efforts to stay grounded. He just prayed you wouldn’t notice.
But of course you did.
“This part needs a bit of letting out,” you murmured, fingers brushing along the inseam. “Seems a bit tight here.”
Joel couldn’t help the low grunt in response. You looked up at him from where you knelt, chin tilted just slightly. Jesus, that view was killing him. How were you so pretty?
“Too tight?”
He cleared his throat, gaze snapping to some vague point across the room. Anywhere but you. “It’s fine.”
You smiled then, devastatingly slow, your fingertip resting right on the metal pull of his zipper. “Are you sure?” you teased. “That’s…quite a bulge.”
Your name slipped from his lips, rough, strained, close to a warning. “Don’t—”
You tilted your head, still kneeling before him, eyes full of feigned innocence that didn’t fool either of you. “Should I take that as a compliment to my work? Or…?”
“You…” he ground his teeth together, pulse pounding in his throat. “You need to stop sayin’ things like that…”
“Like what?”.
He let out a low, shaky breath, fists clenched so hard at his sides he could feel his nails dig into his palms. “You know damn well what.”
“Why?” you murmured, fingertips still teasingly close to the bulge straining against the front of the pants. You traced just a whisper of touch along the zipper line, and Joel felt his knees nearly give. He was getting painfully hard now. There was no denying it.
“Because,” he ground out, voice rough, “I’m gonna get ideas. Bad ones. I’m gonna start thinkin’…” He hesitated, almost embarrassed to let the words leave his mouth. “That you’re hittin’ on me or somethin’.”
You couldn’t help it; you laughed, a bright, disbelieving sound that made his cheeks flush hot, the tips of his ears burning, thinking you were mocking him. But then you looked up at him again, your smile still there but your eyes warm and serious. “Miller…” you breathed, half amused, half exasperated. “I am hitting on you.”
For a beat, Joel couldn’t breathe. The words hit him square in the chest. You were? It wasn’t just in his head? He wasn’t just some starved old man seeing what he wanted to see? Hearing what he wished to hear?
“Really ?” That was all he managed to say, as if he needed another confirmation.
Your smile deepened, and you shook your head, incredulous. “Oh my god, Miller. It’s not like i’m being subtle about it. I’ve been laying it on so thick I’m surprised you didn’t call me out sooner. I don’t think I’ve ever been less subtle in my damn life.”
He stared at you, still kneeling in front of him, one hand resting so casually on his thigh, the other one too close to his crotch and yet not close enough, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like confirming his wildest thoughts wasn’t shaking him to his core. It made him dizzy, made his mind go blank.
“Why?” he finally managed to ask, voice hoarse.
You tilted your head, studying him like you couldn’t believe he needed to ask. “Why am I hitting on you?” you repeated, and when he nodded, you huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Have you seen yourself?”
He couldn’t help the tug at the corner of his lips, a faint, disbelieving grin breaking through. The way you looked at him, he saw it clearly now. Openly, hungrily, with the same wanting he’d tried so hard to bury, made him feel like a fool for ever doubting it. You’d been eyeing him, just like he’d been eyeing you. And now that he knew for sure, it was almost a relief, like a tension snapping loose in his chest.
“You told me you were single,” you went on. “And I just…I couldn’t help it. You bit your lip for a moment, then sighed. “Not the most professional thing I’ve ever done, I admit. I was worried last time I’d made you uncomfortable since you were so damn quiet… If it wasn’t for this ,” you let your eyes flick down pointedly to where the fabric of his pants was still straining against him. “I would’ve thought you weren’t interested.”
Joel gave a rough laugh, low in his chest. “Oh, believe me. I’m interested.” He loved the way your smile widened. How you could be even prettier, he had no idea. He wasn’t complaining, though.
“Mmm, I know. I can feel it.”
There was no pretence now, no false professionalism. Your hand slowly palmed him over the fabric, and Joel grunted, low and unfiltered, finally not having to refrain his reactions. His eyes slipped closed. He was so hard it hurt. So hard for you.
“These pants,” you said with a teasing hum, “are definitely too tight now.”
Joel let out something between a groan and a laugh, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch, searching for more friction, needing more friction.
But then, you took your hand away.
He opened his eyes, chest rising and falling a little faster now, searching your face for a reason. That voice in his head, the one that second-guessed everything, wondered if he’d misstepped, if he was being too eager, going too quick, too soon.
“I’m gonna need you to take off those pants,” you said, reaching for his zipper again. “Can’t risk you staining them.”
And just like that, the voice went quiet.
“Can't have that”, Joel agreed, his tone low and amused. He didn't need to be asked twice.
It was the right decision; he could feel the front of his boxer already stained from his leaking precum. He was almost surprised at his restraint, at how carefully he was slipping out of the pants, mindful not to damage your work. You helped guide the trousers off, taking the pants away when he was finally out of them, leaving him in his boxer where his aching cock was waiting diligently. You tossed the pants aside near the jacket, not even looking when they landed, never leaving your spot on your knees. Joel blinked at that, at how quickly you discarded them, as if your work was less important than what was in front of you. He grinned at your eagerness, as if your work was just an annoying barrier keeping you away from what you wanted. He liked this look on you, hunger mirroring his own. You looked up to him, your lips pursed a little, and he so wanted to kiss you. He was just about to ask if he could when you spoke first.
“Can I suck you off?” You asked then, and Joel felt like he could come right there. On your knees, your eyes looking up at him from under your lashes, asking him so sweetly was better than any dreams he could have.
“You don't have to–”
“I want to. I really want to. Please?”
Oh, he could definitely get used to the way you asked, the way you looked at him as if not being able to taste him right now would truly ruin your night.
“Of course. Fuck– Of course you can.”
Before he could say anything more, you pulled down the last remaining barrier keeping you away from what you wanted. Joel cock sprang free, throbbing against his stomach. You looked at his hard, thick length, the tip of it glistening with precum. There was something smug in your expression, something deeply satisfied, proud of having drawn that kind of reaction from him. Your eyes found his again, steady and unashamed, and the smile that curved your lips was so soft, so achingly pretty, Joel knew he’d be thinking about it for months. And then, without a word, you finally closed the distance.
Joel inhaled sharply as your lips enveloped the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around his sensitive tip, teasing his slit. A low growl slipped from his throat, and his hand instinctively tangled in your hair, both for balance and because he could finally touch you. He felt you hum against him in quiet approval, the sound sending a subtle shiver through him. You started bobbing your head, taking more and more of him in your warm, wet mouth. One hand still resting on his thigh, the other wrapped around the base of him, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit.
“That’s it… Yes, just like that…” Joel panted through heavy breaths.
The feeling of you was so fucking good, better than anything he could have fantasised. He kept his gaze on you, watching you through hooded eyes as you worked him. The sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sounds of your mouth with every thrust, it was almost too much for him to handle. When he felt you taking him a bit further, he rocked his hips slightly, feeling the back of your throat. It felt like heaven. Your nose was pressed against the dark patch of hair around the base of his cock, taking in his scent, your tongue playing around him. After a good moment choking on his length, you took him out of your mouth, catching your breath for a second, your hand never stopping pumping him.
“Taste better than I imagined,” you whispered, your eyes shining as you appreciated the dazed look on Joel's face before taking him back into your mouth.
Fuck. You’d imagined this too. You’d thought about tasting him, about doing exactly this. Had it crossed your mind last time, the same moment it crossed his? What else had you thought about? He wanted to know everything. Wanted to take those thoughts and make them a reality.
But then he felt your other hand palming his balls, applying just the right kind of pressure, and it was too perfect. Too close. He said your name in a low, rough growl, using every ounce of restraint he had to gently pull you back. You looked up at him, his hand still tangled in your hair, your lips swollen from working his length, a soft pout forming as you began to part them, to ask why. But before a single word escaped, he lowered himself toward you.
“If you keep going…I’m gonna cum like a freakin’ teenager,” Joel confessed, his voice strained. “And I really, really want to feel you come around my cock.”
And oh , if he could frame the way your pupils dilated at the sound of his voice, the way your breath caught and grew heavier with each word he spoke. It was intoxicating, watching you unravel just from the sound of him.
“You want that?” He teased, voice low. “Want me to fuck you?”
“Miller, I thought you’d never ask,” you replied with a knowing smile.
He scoffed, moving to join you on the floor, until you raised a finger to stop him.
“Take your shirt off.”
“Is that so I don’t ruin your work, or because you just want me naked for yourself?”
“Both, but mostly the latter,” you replied as he obeyed, peeling off his shirt and slipping out of his boxer and tossing them casually toward the pile of clothes.
He looked down at you, leaning back on the floor with your weight supported by your elbows, eyes locked on him. You were still fully dressed, and there he was, towering over you, as naked as one man can be.
“Well, I definitely feel underdressed now.”
You arched an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Are you? Kinda like this look on you.”
“I’m sure you do. You should try it too,” he said in the same playful tone as you. Then, lowering himself to the floor, he settled over you, his bare knees on the side of your still-clothed legs. His hand slid slowly up your thigh, tracing a path from your knee all the way to the buttons of your jeans. His finger lingered on the zipper, just like you had done earlier, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can even help.”
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, sliding the soft cotton sweater you were wearing over your head and letting it fall away. Beneath it, you wore a delicate, lacy bra, the kind of lingerie that felt too intricate for an ordinary day, as if you’d picked it knowing someone special would see it today. Maybe you knew damn well what was going to happen. His eyes drifted over the curve of your breasts, a flicker of appreciation lighting up his gaze.
“Doing what I can now,” he murmured, leaning closer to you, “because I can’t promise I’ll be as much of a gentleman once I feel you around me.”
His fingers found the button of your jeans, undoing it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He was completely absorbed in every subtle reaction he could get from you, the way your breath hitched, the slight parting of your lips, the flutter of your eyelashes. At the same moment, you unclasped your bra, letting it slip off your shoulders and fall softly beside your sweater.
He felt his cock throbbing at the sight of your nipples perking for him, begging him to touch them, pinch them, bite them. He would do all that soon.
“Don’t want you to be,” you said at last.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers curling there with a tenderness that contrasted with the heat in his eyes. And then he pulled you to him with no hesitation, no second-guessing, and kissed you like he’d been holding back to do. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry. Certain. All the want and need for you crashing into that single moment. His lips pressed to yours, firm and consuming, and you met him just as fiercely, kissing him back like you’d been waiting for it just as long. Maybe you did. He hoped you did.
His hand cupped your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, pulling a soft moan from you directly into his mouth. Such a pretty sound. He needed a thousand more of them.
His other hand slipped to the waistband of your open jeans, fingers curling around the edge. He glanced up at you, waiting for permission, but you were already nodding before he could ask. The two of you shared a quiet laugh at that same urgency mirrored in each other’s eyes. You lifted your hips, and he made quick work of pulling them down, your panties sliding off with them in one fluid motion.
Finally, you were as naked as he was. Joel took a moment, a full, reverent breath, to drink you in. The beauty of your body. The way heat seemed to radiate from your skin, all of it in response to him. A faint sheen of sweat kissed your collarbone, and it made him wonder how sweet you’d taste, how you’d shiver under his mouth.
His gaze dropped, lingering between your thighs. You followed his gaze, parting them for him, unashamed, the glisten of arousal right where you needed him most catching his eyes. He loved that. That confidence of yours. Loved how you showed him exactly where you wanted him, without any ounce of embarrassment. He needed to touch you. To taste you. To fuck you.
“The door?” he asked suddenly, the thought breaking through the haze. You weren’t exactly in a bedroom where he could do everything he wanted without caring about the outside world. The fitting area was tucked away from view, but still, Joel wasn’t in any rush to have a client , or worse, Frank, walk in on this.
“Closed it when you were changing,” you murmured against his neck, your lips trailing soft, warm kisses along his skin.
He let out a low chuckle. “Had everythin’ planned, didn’t you?”
You answered without words, just a playful nip at his bottom lip, pulling it gently between your teeth before letting go. Then you kissed him again, deeper this time, and when he opened his mouth to you, your tongue met his in a way that made Joel wonder if he had ever liked kissing someone more.
Two of his fingers went to your cunt, parting your glistening folds, and he exhaled shakily when he felt how wet you were. It was something to see it, it was something else to feel it. To feel the concrete evidence of how much you wanted this. How much you wanted him.
“All that just from havin’ me in your mouth ?” He murmured against your lips.
Your hand found his hair, fingers curling in deep before giving a playful tug, breaking the kiss for just a second.
“Was wet for you from the moment I saw you at the door.”
Joel couldn't help a half-choked breath. Eyes never leaving yours, His thumb found your clit immediately, pulling out a more than appreciative whimper out of you. His two fingers easily slid into your dripping cunt. He gave you a second to accommodate the intrusion of his fingers, kissing that spot just under your ear, before he started to pump them in and out of you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you.
“Feels good? He asked, even though the soft moans that kept escaping your soft lips were confirmation enough.
You nodded fervently, your hips moving in rhythm against his hand to feel his fingers deeper in you. You didn't have time to ask him; he gave in to you, circling your clit harder with his thumb as he picked up the pace. At the same time, his mouth explored your body, hungry to taste every inch of you. He trailed soft kisses to your jaw, under your ear, to your neck. His other hand went to your back, bringing you closer to him as his mouth met your hardened nipple, biting it, his teeth grazing perfectly. He drank in every sound you gave him, every breathy moan guiding his touch, telling him just how to please you. He could feel you getting closer, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your breath coming in ragged gasps, getting more and more shaky from his touch.
“Come on, beautiful… let go. I’ve got you.”
With a final thrust of his fingers, Joel sent you over the edge. You closed your eyes as the sensation overwhelmed you, white spots blurring your vision. Your pussy clamping around his digits, pulsing and contracting as you let out the most beautiful sound. Joel kept his thumb circling your clit, applying just enough pressure to let you ride out your orgasm. He held you there, his other hand still on your back, as you came down from your high.
When your breathing finally slowed down, His fingers left your cunt, and you whimpered at the sensation, already missing the feeling of fullness they brought you. You opened your eyes, as Joel's lips found yours, gently kissing you.
“Good ?” He whispered, holding you close.
You laughed sweetly, a sound he already knew he could never forget. “Perfect.”
Your hand found his cock, still as hard as before, just enough to pull a low moan deep in Joel’s throat. He needed to be inside you now.
“Fuck,” he realised at the same time, “I don't have a condom.”
Even though it was hardly the time to think about his brother, Joel couldn’t help but remember all the times Tommy told him to keep one in his wallet. In case you remember how to get your dick wet, brother! Fucking Tommy and his damn advice. But for once in his life, Joel really should’ve listened to him.
He felt your hand gently trace the line of his jaw, fingers brushing over his scratchy beard. “I’m clean, and I’m on the pill…” You hesitated for a moment, searching his eyes. “If you want…”
He gulped. “Are you sure?”
“I really want you to fuck me, Miller”
He kissed you again, deeper and more urgently than before. He leaned over you, hands braced on either side of your head on the floor, pinning you gently beneath the weight of his broad frame. You brought his cock against your entrance, his tip brushing against your clit, a shared moan escaping from both of you at the sensation. Joel looked down at where he was nestled against your folds, your arousal coating his length. He couldn't look away as he started to push forward, the thick head of his cock stretching your entrance.
“God, you're so tight… Just relax, beautiful.. Let me in.” He coaxed, one hand cupping your face tenderly.
He pressed his lips to yours, as if he couldn't stay away from you for too long, distracting you as you accommodated to his size. His other hand came up to cup your breast, kneading the soft mound, his fingers teasing your nipple. Slowly, as if he were afraid to break you, he pressed deeper, feeling how perfectly you were taking him, your walls gripping his cock.
“Fuck– You're so–” You were a breathless mess beneath him, words tumbling out in fragments. “You're so big…”
“I know Baby… I know.”
He felt the way you tightened around him at the petname, and his lips curled into a knowing smile against yours. Finally, he hilted himself entirely inside you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass. He had to wait a second before he could move again, waiting for you to relax and for him to take a second to breathe, or he would be coming undone too quickly. You just felt so good around him, so tight and perfect. When he felt both your breathing steadying, he slowly withdrew his cock until only his tip was still inside you. You whimpered under him, your hips begging him to come back. He kept you there for a second, his hands grabbing your hips hard, fingers digging so tightly it wouldn't be surprising if you bruised there tomorrow. Joel liked the idea of you having a reminder of this, of him.
“What’s it that you said last week, uh?” He taunted, your eyes fluttering open to watch him. “When you were riling me up and I was doing everythin’ to be good?”
You mumbled something incoherent, too focused on trying to get more of him inside of you, to feel that delicious stretch again. You didn't care about last week; you cared about him, right now, but Joel's grin grew wider.
“Oh yeah, I remember… I need every inch.” he cooed, imitating your voice. “Yeah, you fucking do.”
And then he slammed back in you, his cock hitting the deepest part of you. You let out a cry as the sensation, your arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders to bring him closer to you. He gripped your hips with a low growl, pulling you flush against him as he pounded in you, wanting to go deeper with each thrusts.
“Joel–” you mewled between whines. “Oh fuck!”.
He wasn’t sure his name had ever sounded that good on anyone’s lips.
“Again.”
You blinked up at him, dazed. “Uh?”
“My name. Say it again.”
So you did, singing his name like it was the only word that you could remember as he kept snapping his hips against yours. His name a desperate plea, a prayer. Joel Joel Joel.
For a moment, the shop was nothing but the sound of your voice crying out his name, the raw slap of skin against skin, and the rough, reverent praise he growled into your ear.
Doin’ so good for me, baby.
You feel incredible… you’re so fuckin’ beautiful
Sweet pussy so tight for me, so perfect..
Joel leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling the sensitive bud. His pace didn't falter, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every stroke.
“I'm.. Joel–” You gasped under him. “ Fuck Joel– I'm close…”
He could feel you tightening around him, your body tensing as you got closer to your release. His own orgasm was building, threatening to overcome with every sound you made for him, but he was holding back, determined to make you come first, to give you the pleasure you deserved. His hand travelled to your clit, his thumb moving in half circles, making your whole body shake with pleasure.
“Come for me, baby, please,” Joel said in a choked exhale. “I want– I need to feel you come on my cock.”
Your cunt clutched around him at his words, your sweet moans filling the room as your orgasm took over you, and Joel swore he was brought to this earth to hear those sounds. The sensation of you, fluttering around him, his name escaping your lips as you did, was his undoing. He couldn't hold himself any longer. He knew you could feel it too, your eyes opening to watch him, your hand grabbing his arm instinctively.
“Baby…” Joel started, but he didn't have time to ask.
“Inside. Please, come inside me.”
And if Joel were a better man, he might have refused. But in this moment, all he could feel was you, so tight, so perfectly made for him. So he wasn’t a better man, and honestly, he’d already made his peace with that if it meant having you. He buried himself deep with a final slap of his hips, his cock pulsing as he came hard inside you, your name leaving his lips as his hips jerked with each spurt of his release. He kept grinding against you, working his cock in and out of you as long as he could, prolonging both your orgasms. He could feel your mixed come seeping out of you around his cock with every movement. It was filthy. You both loved it.
You grabbed his hair, pulling him down to capture his lips in an eager kiss as both your orgasms started to subside. His thrusts finally slowed down to a stop. He rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting and glistening with sweat. You looked at each other, both with a satisfied smile on your lips.
“That was–”
“Fucking amazing,” you finished for him, and the two of you laughed gently.
He finally pulled out of you with a satisfied grin, not without appreciating the sight of his cum slowly making its way out of you. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, noticing how you watched him do it with appreciative eyes. Finally, he rolled on his back next to you, your shoulders brushing against each other on the wooden floor of the shop.
He turned his face toward you, only to find you already watching him, your body instinctively angled in his direction. Your eyes met his in a shared, dazed gaze as his chest finally slowed down. A strand of hair clung to your forehead, damp with sweat, and he gently brushed it back, tucking it away. When his hand lingered to cup your cheek, you leaned into his touch without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I…” Joel paused, unsure what the hell he was supposed to say now. “I don’t usually do this.”
“Me neither,” you said, brushing a quick kiss to his lips, too quick for his liking. “Believe me, Miller, you’re the only client I’ve ever crossed the line with. The only one I’ve ever wanted to.”
“You’re gonna make me blush,” he muttered, meaning it as a joke, but it landed closer to the truth than he expected.
Because knowing you found him attractive enough to make a move, multiples even, to risk the usual boundaries, to toss professionalism aside just to see if the attraction was mutual? It set something warm in his gut, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. He was sure it wouldn't go away for a long time, didn't want it to.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you teased, reaching for a nearby scrap of fabric nearby to clean the mess between your legs. Joel briefly wondered if the small cloth was something expensive, but you didn’t seem to care, and he didn’t ask. His attention was caught instead by the way the fabric darkened with your shared release, the evidence of how deep he was inside you just moments before.
“I never blushed,” he muttered, eyes flicking back to your face, though the spark in your eyes told him you were just as affected as he was by the sight.
“Don’t go all shy on me now. I liked watching you try to keep it together. You were cute, trying so hard to hide it.”
“I thought I was being subtle,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.
“Oh, sure,” you smiled, shifting closer and letting your fingers trail lightly over his chest as you tilted your head toward his. “ So subtle. You know, most clients don’t moan when I measure their inseam.”
His brow furrowed, gaze narrowing on you. “I didn’t moan.”
“Yeah, you did.”
Did he? God, he wasn't sure.
You gave him a wicked little smile, and he couldn’t help but pull you closer, guiding you fully onto him. The warm press of your still bare skin against his made something in him settle, his thoughts only focused on how good you felt. He kissed you again, slower this time, unrushed simply because he could. Because you were there, perfect and fitting against him as if you were meant to.
“Fuck,” Joel cursed softly between two kisses, “If I’d known a proper suit would lead to this, to you… I would have come sooner.”
You giggled softly against his lips before turning your head toward the scattered pile of clothes on the floor, just a few feet away. Joel felt you shift slightly against him, and his hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along your back.
“I really hope we didn’t ruin the suit,” you said, glancing back at him with a hint of concern. “Should’ve been more careful with it. I seriously don’t have time to fix any major damage.”
“‘S my fault. Gave you an awful deadline, and then here I am keeping you away from your work. I’m a terrible client.”
He gave you a sheepish smile, and you let out a quiet laugh. “Then I must be a terrible tailor,” you replied, “because I really, really like when you keep me away.”
Joel felt something tighten in his chest. Did you even know what you were doing to him? He wondered if you could feel the way his heart beat harder beneath your hand, like it was answering only to you. You were funny, kind, ridiculously talented, and so damn beautiful. Was it foolish of him to think this felt like more than a simple moment of pleasure? To hope this wasn’t just a one-time thing? He wanted more. To see you again, outside this shop. Somewhere he could be the one to make you blush.
You were saying something about the deadline, about how the wedding was creeping closer when Joel cut you off.
“You should come with me.”
You blinked. “What?”
“To the weddin’. You should come with me.”
“You want me to… come to the wedding? With you?”
Joel shifted, sitting up and taking you with him, guiding you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. He pressed a slow kiss to the curve of your neck. He couldn’t help himself, not with your skin so close and inviting.
“I do,” he murmured against your skin, then pulled back, needing to see your face, to gauge what you were thinking. The look you gave him was unreadable, and it made his stomach twist just a little. “I mean–yeah, I probably got the order a little backwards. Should’ve taken you out first, done this right,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “But better late than never, right? And… I do have a plus one.”
There was a beat of silence where you just looked at Joel, expression unreadable, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d pushed too far and ruined whatever moment you were having. But then you gave him a curious smile.
“You want to take me on a first date to a wedding?”
He tensed, trying to sound casual. “Too weird?”
“Between that and the suit,” you teased, “I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing for rushing things.”
He let out a quiet breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Forget the weddin’, then. Just…let me take you out. A real date. Please,” he added, the word slipping out faster than he meant to, a flash of uncertainty creeping in. Maybe this was just a one-time thing for you?
You didn’t answer right away, and Joel braced himself for the gentle letdown. But then you said, “Once your suit’s done… I should have some time for a real date.”
Joel smiled instantly. A real, full smile. The kind he rarely gave. The kind that pulled out that faint dimple Sarah always teased him about. You couldn't help but smile back, warmed by the sight of it.
“By the way,” you said, shifting slightly on top of him, “I think you should come get your suit the morning of the wedding if that’s okay with you? I know it’s a little last minute, but I really want to make sure it’s perfect for you.”
Joel nodded as he leaned back on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you as you spoke. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore, but looking at you, naked and perched over his waist, your tits rising slightly with each breath, your pussy still wet from and for him, he knew it wouldn’t take him long to be ready for another round. His hands itched to reach for you again, to be inside you one more time.
But before he could entertain the idea, the familiar sound of his ringtone cut through the moment. You glanced toward the sound with a knowing smile still on your lips — the same lips he hadn’t finished kissing yet.
Joel let out a low groan as he stood, dragging himself away from the warmth of your body. He stepped back toward the pile of clothing, finding his discarded jeans and fishing out his phone. Tommy’s name lit up the screen.
Of course it was his brother.
Joel shot you an apologetic look before answering. “What’s up Tommy?” he said, his eyes still trained on you. You were propped on your elbows, unabashedly ogling his nakedness without any shame. He liked this look on you.
“Hey Joel. Sorry to bother, I know you're at your appointment,” Tommy started, “but when do you think you'll be headin' home?
Joel’s stomach dropped. Tommy was at his place, keeping an eye on Sarah. His brother never called when he was babysitting. Never needed to. “Why?” he asked sharply, already reaching for his jeans. “Is somethin’ wrong? Is Sarah okay?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you rising to your feet, your expression shifting. You were gathering your clothes quietly, understanding without needing to ask that whatever you’d just shared had been cut short. He hated that, almost as much as the panic twisting in his chest.
“She’s okay,” Tommy said on the other end, his voice calm but laced with that careful tone people used when they didn’t want you to panic. “She’s got a bit of a fever. Nothin’ serious, I swear. Gave her some medicine, but she’s restless…won’t go to sleep.”
Joel’s chest tightened. He pictured Sarah, his sweet girl, curled up under a blanket, cheeks flushed, sniffling and tossing in bed. She needed him. She always had, and he needed to be there, to hold her hand, stroke her hair, whisper that everything was going to be alright.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, already tugging on his shirt. “Alright. I’ll be home in twenty.”
After a quick see you soon from his brother, Joel ended the call, patting his pocket to make sure his car keys were still there and not lost somewhere on the floor, before grabbing his jacket. When he turned around, you were already dressed just like him, but barely put back together. Anyone walking in could tell what had happened between you. Both of you were flushed, your hair a mess, lips still swollen from kissing, skins still glistening and carrying the scent of each other... God, he didn’t want to leave. Not when all he could think about was pulling you close again, hearing those filthy little sounds you made, and finally bending you over that damn counter the way he’d imagined since he first walked in. But reality tugged at him harder. He had to go: Sarah was waiting.
And somehow, like you could hear every unspoken thought racing through his head, you gave him a soft, knowing smile.
“Go. It’s okay,” you said softly, stepping closer and resting your hand over his chest for just a moment.
“I’m sorry–” Joel murmured, but you were already shaking your head.
“Don’t be. You’ve got important things to do… and so do I.” You nodded toward the half-finished suit waiting on the floor. “Need to make sure we didn’t pop any stitches. The deadline’s already tight enough.”
A smile tugged at his lips despite everything. “Can’t have that.”
He lingered for a beat, then leaned in and pressed a brief but meaningful kiss to your lips.
“See you the day of the weddin’?”
You hummed against his mouth, smiling. “Yes. Now go,” you said, stepping back from him like it took as much willpower for you to leave this moment as it did for him.
He never hated the sound of the bell above the door more than that night.
The wedding was nothing short of beautiful. Tommy and Maria exchanged their vows in a rustic, converted barn just south of Austin, surrounded by the warmth of family and friends. Sarah served as the flower girl, her laughter ringing out as she gracefully walked down the aisle in a beautiful purple dress. Standing beside his brother as best man, Joel felt his chest swell with a fierce, tender love watching his daughter so carefree and happy. He caught every word Tommy spoke, his little brother’s voice usually so steady and confident, cracking just slightly with emotion as he vowed his love to his now wife. Many wiped away tears as the couple finally said "I do" beneath a canopy of flowers and fading sunlight.
It might have been the perfect day, if not for one thing. Or rather, the absence of one person. Yours.
Joel never saw you that morning. He’d thought about you all week, a constant pull deep in his chest, forcing himself not to swing by the shop just for a glimpse of you. Instead, he threw himself into work and wedding prep, trying to dull the itch of missing you. He cursed himself daily for not asking for your number. One night, when the longing twisted too sharply in his chest, he searched online and found the shop’s listed phone, but the thought of Frank picking up stopped him cold. He didn’t want to seem overeager, didn’t want to scare you off with his restlessness. It had been so long since he’d felt this way, since wanting someone had felt this easy and this terrifying. He missed your voice. Your laugh. The press of your body against his. And though he was certain Tommy had picked up on the shift in his mood, for once his brother didn’t tease, too focused on the biggest day of his life fast approaching.
So to say Joel had been eager to get to the shop that morning would’ve been a massive understatement. The nice cologne had been used again and he looked more put together than he had the week before, groomed for the wedding later that day but thinking only of you. He wanted to see your eyes on him again. Wanted to know if you’d look at him like you had last time, to know if you wanted him just as much.
It was the only thing on his mind as he pushed open the shop door. But instead of finding you behind the counter, he saw Frank. Joel’s heart sank a little, though he tried not to show it. Still, he asked, as casually as he could, if you were in the back, maybe finishing up the final touches. But the look on Frank’s face said everything before he even opened his mouth.
You weren’t there.
Joel’s stomach dropped. You hadn’t kept your word. Well… "word" was a bit of a stretch, you hadn’t promised exactly, but he’d clung to that moment, to your smile and the softness in your voice when you said you’d see him on the morning of the wedding. He’d replayed it more times than he cared to admit.
He must not have hidden the disappointment well, because Frank cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice more gentle than Joel expected.
“She was working on it ‘til late this morning,” he said. “Pushed herself too hard, I think. Took the day off to rest. But it was worth it… the suit looks incredible. One of her best, if you ask me.”
So that was it. You weren’t here because of him. The irony of it twisted something in his chest.
Frank disappeared into the back to retrieve the suit, leaving Joel alone with the silence of the shop. His eyes drifted, unbidden, to the spot on the floor where just days ago your bodies had been tangled together, breathless and blissful.
Would he see you again? Should he wait for you to reach out? Or come back in a few days with some excuses in hope of catching you?
Maybe this was your way of letting him down easy, skipping this morning to avoid saying it out loud. Maybe agreeing to the date was something you said in the moment to smooth the goodbye. Joel wasn’t sure which version stung worse: the possibility that you didn’t mean it, or that you had… but changed your mind.
Still, he tried to tell himself he was lucky. That if this was the end, at least it ended on a high note, one that had kept him awake in bed most nights this week, haunted him in the shower, followed him even in his truck one morning when the memory of you was getting too much.
Frank reappeared, the suit neatly encased in a protective garment bag. After settling the payment, Joel took it with equal care. Hands steady, heart anything but. There was a strange mix bubbling in his chest: anticipation to see the final product you’d worked so hard on… and the quiet ache of knowing you weren’t here to show it to him.
He was about to thank Frank and say goodbye when the older man stopped him, reaching behind the counter.
“Hold on,” Frank said, offering a small box with a knowing smile. “She picked this out for you. Took her time with it.”
Joel’s brows drew together in confusion as he gently opened the box. Inside was an elegant, perfectly folded green pocket square. He stared at it for a moment, thinking back to the first appointment with you. That made his throat tighten. With everything going on, he had never told you what colour he wanted. This choice, this detail, was all yours.
You'd thought of him.
Perhaps you meant what you said, and maybe you’d been thinking about him just like he’d been thinking about you. A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He’d be coming back, there was no question about it now. He wasn’t going to let this — you — become a fleeting moment. Not when it could be something more.
He looked around the shop one last time, his gaze lingering on the space where he’d kissed you last, a moment he had replayed more times than he’d admit. With a soft exhale, he nodded to Frank.
“Tell her thank you… for everything,” Joel said quietly.
“Will do,” Frank replied with a knowing look.
The bell above the door jingled as Joel stepped out into the sunlight, suit in one hand, pocket square in the other.
When he put it on the suit later that day, standing in front of a mirror in Tommy’s room, he allowed himself to smile. The final suit was beautiful, more than Joel could have imagined. Every stitch was precise, every seam perfectly aligned. He could feel the care you'd poured into it, the way it moulded to him like it had been made by someone who knew him intimately. And, in some ways, you did.
He looked good, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Tommy let out a low whistle when he caught sight of him. “Well, damn,” he laughed, clapping a hand on Joel’s back. “Didn’t know you cleaned up this good.”
Then came Sarah, who gasped the moment she saw him. “You look so handsome, Dad!” she giggled, running into his arms. He picked her up easily, heart swelling as she beamed at him so wide in her pretty flower girl dress.
Throughout the reception, a few other guests surprised Joel with compliments. Some people he knew, some others he didn't. A few words on the quality of the suit, or just telling him how handsome he looked tonight. He wasn't used to this kind of attention; he was a man usually more at home in jeans and work boots, and felt a rare heat rise to his cheeks with each kind word. It was a strange thing, being the centre of attention, but beneath the initial awkwardness was something deeper. Some kind of pride. Not just in himself, but in you . People were admiring your work, and by extension, they were seeing him the way you had.
Joel was leaning against the bar, his eyes on the dance floor where Tommy and Sarah were spinning in tight little circles. His daughter stood on her uncle’s feet, clinging to his hands as she laughed with that bright, unfiltered joy only kids could muster. Her giggles rose above the music, and Joel couldn’t help but smile into his glass as he took another sip of whiskey. He wondered how long he had before Sarah would come barreling back to pull him out for another dance. At least now, in this new suit, he wouldn’t look like a wrinkled mess doing it. The thought of the old thing made him grimace; he would’ve been sweating through it by now.
He adjusted that deep green pocket square you'd picked for him as his mind drifted again. To you. It kept happening every time someone complimented him tonight, when a couple swayed close together, and he imagined you in his arms instead. When he caught sight of that guy across the room, who looked vaguely like Frank, when–
“I do love a man in a suit,” a soft voice said behind him. “Even more when I’m the one who put him in it.”
Joel turned so fast he nearly knocked over his drink, his heart jumping into his throat. His eyes widened the moment he saw you. There you were, smiling at him like a dream.
“Hi, Joel,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. You were in a stunning green dress that hugged your body in all the right places. Just devastly beautiful. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words dried out before they could form. Before he could ask you anything, How did you get here? How are you even more beautiful than last time? Did you miss me like I missed you? A voice from the side cut in.
“There you are!” Maria’s arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I was starting to think you’d skip the whole thing.”
“I missed the ceremony already,” you said with light guilt showing in your voice, pulling back and taking in her look, “I couldn’t possibly skip the party too.” Your eyes lit up as you looked her over. “You look incredible . That dress…it’s perfect on you.”
Maria grinned and spun in place, holding out the sides of her dress as if she were on a stage. “I know, right?” she said with an almost disbelieving laugh. Then, eyes shining, she added, “Can you believe it? I’m married !”
You leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I can, and I couldn’t be happier for you. Congratulations.”
It wasn’t until the laughter faded that the two of you seemed to remember the man standing just a few steps away, watching in silence. Slowly, you turned back toward Joel. He was staring between you and Maria like he was trying to solve a puzzle he was missing a piece of. You. At the wedding. Hugging Maria like you belonged here.
Maria glanced over and smiled. “I believe you two have met?”
“We did,” Joel prayed his voice didn’t betray his confusion.
You looked at him calmly, maybe even amused by his reaction. “How are you liking the suit Miller?”
Joel met your eyes. “It’s perfect,” he answered truthfully. The way your smile deepened at his words made something in him stumble. His heart, maybe.
“He really does look amazing,” Maria added, throwing you a sincere look. “You did such a great job. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
You held Maria’s gaze for a beat before turning your eyes back to Joel, something unmistakably teasing flickering behind them. “Not at all,” you said, your voice smooth. “He was very… memorable.”
Joel swore the collar of his shirt suddenly felt too tight. His hand instinctively tugged at it as a flush crept up his neck. Before he could say anything, someone called out Maria’s name from across the dance floor. She gave your hand a quick squeeze before she was swept away into the crowd, off to hug another relative or accept another congratulations.
You turned toward the bar, ordering something light and fizzy from the bartender and Joel’s eyes followed you, tracing the line of your dress, the way the soft fabric hugged every part of you he hadn’t stopped thinking about all week. Just minutes ago, he’d been wondering if he’d ever see you again. Now here you were, real and stunning and close enough to touch.
He stepped closer, barely thinking before the words left his mouth. “You’re here.”
You turned, now holding your drink, and leaned against the wooden bar as you gave him a faint smile. “I’m here.”
“I don’t understand…” Joel admitted as he mirrored your position. “You know Maria?”
“Old friend from college…well, roommate actually,” you said with a small shrug, watching him closely. “Honestly, I thought you knew, since she’s the one who sent you to me. Well… I did right up until you invited me to the wedding.”
Joel huffed a soft, breathless laugh. “A weddin’ you were already invited to,” he said, shaking his head.
You gave a small, almost guilty nod, lips tugging into the faintest smile.
Joel stared at you for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your eyes lingered on his, a teasing glint there, but also something warmer underneath. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Joel’s smile twitched at the corners, but he couldn’t help himself. “Is that why you weren’t there this mornin’?”
You winced just slightly at his words. The regret in your expression was clear, and you stepped in closer. Close enough that he noticed your perfume was different from what clung to his memory. Spicier, but just as enticing. It wrapped around him, and it made him ache to lean in, press his mouth to the hollow of your neck and find out if it tasted the same.
Your fingers brushed the front of his vest, then slowly traced down the line of his jacket. Joel felt his pulse stutter. “I’m sorry,” you said gently. “I really meant to be there. But I was working on this until the sun came up.” You gave the lapel a small tug, grounding your words. “I needed a few hours of sleep if I was going to be any good for the party tonight and–”
“And you knew you’d see me tonight,” Joel finished for you, his voice laced with something hopeful he couldn’t quite hide.
You nodded, your hand still resting lightly against his chest. His eyes followed the movement as your fingers drifted downward until they found the silk of his pocket square. You let your touch linger, smoothing the fabric with a kind of absent affection that made his heart thud harder in his chest. His gaze flicked between your hand and your face, catching the subtle lift of your lips as your smile teased at the corners.
“It’s the same colour,” he finally murmured, more for himself than for you, as he glanced between the green silk and your dress in that same shade.
You looked up at him then, meeting his gaze fully. The smile you gave him wasn’t coy. It was bold, just like you.
“Did you… pick this so I’d match you?” he asked then, his voice a little breathless.
“Maybe,” you said in a softvoice, eyes not leaving him. “I wanted to see if you'd wear a little piece of me.”
Joel swallowed hard, warmth blooming in his chest. It was something he’d nearly forgotten how to feel, to be this openly wanted. He wanted to reach for you. To rest his palm against your cheek just to see if you’d lean into the touch. He wanted to kiss those tempting lips of yours, just to feel that low, breathy sound you made when he last had the pleasure of touching you. He wanted to take your hand and find somewhere quiet, somewhere he could reach under that dress and do everything he’d been thinking about since last week. But the night still belonged to his family, and he didn't want to be that guy missing out on this special occasion.
He turned his head, letting his eyes follow the sound of Sarah’s laughter. She was still on the dance floor, now sandwiched between Tommy and Maria, the three of them a perfect painting of joy. And then his gaze slid back to you. Somehow, he was sure the canvas could only be better if he took your hand and led you into the light. Would you let him?
“Does Maria know?” Joel wondered, nodding subtly toward the bride.
You didn’t even blink. “About you fucking me dumb on the shop floor?” you said casually, and Joel nearly choked on nothing but air, coughing into his fist.“No, didn’t really come up yet.”
“Yet?”
“Mmhm.” You nodded slowly. “I mean, you’re still taking me out on that date, right? Then I’ll consider telling her…if it goes well, of course.”
“Of course,” Joel echoed, his hand settling gently at your waist, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the fabric of your dress. Just then, the music that was playing faded into something softer just in time for Joel to lean in and ask: “Can I have this dance?”
You raised a teasing brow. “You got moves, Miller?”
“Plenty of 'em.”
“Perfect, I’ve been waiting to see this suit in action,” you smiled as Joel took your hand, guiding you toward the dance floor. You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a teasing murmur only for him. “But I do have a question about it…”
Joel raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“Will you let me take it off you later?”
Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you thought! Leave a comment, a reblog, or even an ask! It would mean a lot :)
I do a lot of sewing and you did an amazing job with the details. You may have used Google but it did not steer you wrong.
Flirty banter was spot on, ruminating on personal insecurity was too close for comfort and the nice touch of mentioning that mc is clean adds that little touch of realism. Wonderful work! I would happy rec this to anyone who likes Joel.
Knowing a fic author through AO3 is like attending someone’s thesis presentation and politely clapping at the end, knowing a fic author through this hellsite is like going over to their house at 3AM to watch them eat mayonnaise out of a jar
Set between 1880-1890, You have been feeling and acting off. After visiting the doctor's he sends you off to stay in Pelican Town where you are set to receive treatment for your condition. Upon arrival you learn the doctor administering these treatments is better than you think.
Harvey/ unnamed afab!reader
2nd pov
trigger warnings: reader is diagnosed with hysteria, mentions of depression, cheating/ adultery, doctor/ patient relationship, mentions of infertility, unplanned pregnancy, somewhat real descriptions of medical procedures
this is the final chapter. thanks to everyone who has read this story!
After the first week with your arrival back to Pelican Town you began to go into town. You formally met Emily to which she invited you to the saloon that she works. At first you were a little sceptical knowing the women who usually worked in saloons. She laughed at the face you made on that day and assured you that wasn’t in her workload. The remainder of April went by quickly. It was the first week in May when Emily mentioned that your dress seemed too tight.
She asked if you needed it tailored. Brushing it off as though the comment was nothing meant that it was time for you to remove yourself from society.
“Are you sure? I happen to be quite a talented seamstress.” She says to you with confidence.
“Yes, I have heard many great things about your work, but I am in no need presently. I thank you kindly for the offer.” You try to offer her the most polite ‘no’ that you can muster in your minor panic.
The year that was spent trapped within these walls were coming back as you made your decision to stay on your property. Haley would still come to visit you on most occasions and offer her company. It was the beginning of the second week that you propose the idea to Robin, Haley and Emily. You had spoken highly of a wish to create a winery here on the property. At first Haley was not fond of the idea but as Robin and Emily proposed solutions to the growing list of questions, Haley’s tune changed completely.
“I can see why you would want this here on the property, but you are in no means to tend it!” Haley tried to reason with you at first. That was until her older sister inserted herself into the conversation.
“Just because she is with child does not mean that she is incapable of tending to a yard or a garden. Women have done it for centuries before her and I am quite sure they will continue in the future as well.” Your eyes widen to Emily who looks at you as confused as you do her.
“Oh, am I not to know that?” Your eyes immediately swipe to Haley who looked just as confused as you at her own sister.
“Do not hate her. She has not told me a thing. I can tell with you. You seem much different now compared to this same time last year.” She sighs at the end of her speech as if she was lost in thought. She finishes her same thought after her brief pause, “Last year your eyes were void and sad, your skin pale and dull, and your voice carried the note of someone who was condemned. Now your cheeks are full of life and round, your eyes still carry a sadness, but they shine nonetheless, and you speak with the tone of someone who is so assured. That means to me that you are in the family way, but your sadness means that you may not have the family.”
You do not know what comes over you. One moment you listen to Emily’s words and the next you are being consoled through body wracking sobs. Gentle hands rub over your back in soothing circles and soft tidings and reassurances of the okay of the world. Drying your eyes, you lean your back against the plush of the couch. Heaving out a sigh and turning your head to where Haley was sitting.
“We will do the winery.” You declare.
-
It is now the middle of July, and you have been residing in Pelican Town for a few months. You know it in your heart that this is the place that you were meant to be. As Haley greets you carrying a wicker basket of saplings. Heaves the great basket onto the ground near the entrance to the cottage.
“You didn’t carry that all the way here, did you?” You ask in a kind yet worried nature.
“Heavens no!” She exclaims. Turning her head to see if there was anyone on the road.
“Are you looking for someone?” Walking behind her to see the back of someone just making it out of sight from distance.
“No, I was just seeing if he. Well, not that it matters. I brought the saplings that you were talking so fondly for.”
“I can see that, thank you. How much do I owe Pierre?” Although you’re asking you know that it will just be put on your tab in the general store until you make it into town next. Nonetheless Haley tells you how much for the trees and you add it to the mental note to add to your ledger tonight.
Moving to begin planting the trees. You and Haley spend the time digging up the dirt to place the trees next to what will hopefully soon be the greenhouse. Wiping the sweat from your forehead you look to Haley after you finish planting the last tree. Nodding to each other once the task was finished you invite Haley in for something to drink.
When sitting on the less than before clean couches you drink your beverages.
“I can see how a man will want a drink after a whole day like this. I am very interested after one afternoon.” You joke to Haley, and she laughs in agreement.
“I think we planted some real good wood here today friend.” Haley giggles.
“Haley! You should be ashamed of yourself! Such vulgar language.” You both sit giggling like teenagers for a moment. Happily laughing in the privacy of these walls.
“Hmm.” Haley laughs hard again as she looks at your mock serious face while rubbing your ever-growing belly in exaggerated circles.
You being to speak like normal, no longer joking conversation. “What about when you first walked up? Was that a tree in your basket or where you just that pleased to see me?” She looks at you silent for one tenth of a second before laughing once more.
“That aside. I need to speak with you about something most serious.” Haley says turning to you.
“Is it for the joke I made to you as well?”
“Goodness no! It is something that you are far less willing to talk about.” She says with the hope you will not deny her straight away.
“Is it likely that I will not wish to speak of it at all?” You ask accusatorily.
“Most certainly but I will talk about it nonetheless.”
“I am not entirely sure I wish to hear about it then to be fully honest.”
“I am not hearing any of this. You will hear what I have to say.” Haley who just a minute ago was full of happiness and merriment was now full of the utmost seriousness and it frightened you.
“Well please. What could be so important.”
“Harvey. He came to learn that you are in town.”
“No. I will not hear of this. I am uninterested in knowing what pertains to that man.”
“Please. Listen this is just as I said back in March! You need to tell him sooner or later whether you like it or not.”
“Yes, Haley you are correct in a few things here. You said that he would find me here in March, and that I will not like having to speak with him.”
“Does that mean that you will?”
“No, it most certainly does not. I said that I.” Haley interjects before you can continue.
“I know and you know for one I do not care and for two he will be here by my arrangement in the next ten minutes or so.”
“Haley, you did not.”
“I most definitely did, and you will speak to him. Hear him. Know what he had to say that day.”
Standing from the couch you angerly walked to the window, each footstep stomping its way over. Gazing out the glass panels you think. Frustration and hurt clouding your mind. The betrayal that still seems to seep into every corner of your mind rears its ugly face. Not wishing to spill over you attempt to collect your thoughts. Turning your head toward the couch again to see Haley gone. Quickly glancing out of the window again to find her almost nearly out of the property line.
“Damn it!” You yell aloud but yet you scream ‘I am not ready’ internally.
Your mind wanders while you blindly reach your hand to find the couch. Thinking of the last time you spoke to him.
“Doctor Sullivan I am not receiving visitors at the moment. I am going to ask you to leave please.” You force your voice to be as even as possible. You had hoped it sounded harsh against his ears and prompted him to leave you.
“Please, I just need to explain to you what I was saying yesterday.” Harvey pleads to you as he walks closer to where you are standing. You watch each of his feet fall against the floor in a light pat as steps closer to you. Small steps as to not push any boarders.
“Will you let me speak with you? Privately.” Harvey continues his movement until he reaches only an arms distance, his eyes flicking to Haley then back to you. As you stare up at him chest heaving from the tightness of your dress mixed with the pace of which you arrived. You stopped breathing as he takes a final step forward. Harvey’s eyes meeting your own as he beseeches you.
“Please, my love, let me speak to you.” Haley gasps behind you and tugs the back of your dress. You pay her no mind as you continue to make eye contact with the doctor who now stands nearly brushing against you.
Haley then walks away, her foot falls sounding quieter while you kept your eyes locked with the man in front of you. Arms wishing to wrap around him in want of wishing to not let this be true. But it is. He had allowed this feeling to fester. This man who showed you all the love in the world that you wished you would have gotten from the start. But here he is. Standing here waiting for your answer.
“No.”
“No?”
“No, Doctor Sullivan. You!” Your sob breaks your voice as it falls from you. You exhale deeply once, then try to control your own breathing. Once, twice and finally three times to collect yourself.
“You have betrayed my trust.” You say evenly.
Your shaking hands finds the walls as you make your way slowly up the stairs. Each step falling in minute whines in the floorboards to make your way towards your room. Wishing more than anything that Haley has played one more joke on you. Looking out again to the land outside of the window without any sign of her to be seen. Settling yourself down onto plush comfort that was your mattress. Your mind begins to circle back around to the thought of the last day you saw Harvey.
“I truly understand how it looks. It appears I manipulated you to keep you here.”
“Yes.” You scoffed. “Not only that but you had tried to send me away even after we had confessed to one another. Do you understand what that may do to a person?” You are able to shift back from him. Spell broken from his sad gaze as compared to yours that flared in anger.
“Do you truly understand what this means to me? You told me you loved me, proved it to me, allowed me to accept that same love, taken the love that I gave to you and took it willingly. That was not the problem, while it should have been. I am married Harvey. Already. Married. It was luck that my husband was adulterous. But to learn the man that I vowed to love wholly in the eyes of our God, and then betrayed that sanctity myself,[He] had betrayed me as well. I learn this. I am heartbroken that I was no better than my own husband and here comes Haley. Showing me the wires that you sent. That. That.” Your words are lost upon your lips.
He tries to step toward you again but this time you follow with the same step to fall behind.
“You must believe me. I do love you. That has not changed, nor will it change. You must understand that I was completing my obligation as your treating physician. I did not wish for you to be sent home. I wanted you to stay here. Still want you to stay here, with me.”
“Har- Doctor Sullivan. That is enough. That is another issue. We fell in love from a treatment that seems to allow for this type of relationship to develop. That all on its own is wrong.”
“Are you telling me that it is wrong for me to love you now?” He asks hurt etched on every single line in his face. And you felt that same hurt maybe even more than he did.
“Yes. We should not have loved one another to begin with.” His face looks like he’s in pain, but you just want him gone. You can hit him where it will be most tender.
“I am leaving for Boston, doctor. Now that my treatment is complete, I will leave and I never wish to see you while we are both still alive on this earth.”
You recall that he left after that. You watched him with such sadness while he walked from the front door of the property to the edge where you could no longer see him. Now you see him with a face you are too familiar with. The one of fear and pain as he walked from that same edge to the same door. You heard the knocking. You want to will your feet to move from their spot but they are unable to. You then hear the door opening with that signature squeal that you’ve gotten used to. He calls your name, but you do not answer. Footsteps on the stairs followed behind a second call from his voice.
This felt like horror, you know he’s getting closer but it’s like you are trapped. Bound to only this spot and doomed to look out of the window for the rest of eternity. You’re snapped away from your trance as Harvey calls your name, but this time so softly and from the threshold of your bedroom door.
“You are back.” He whispers to himself more than to you. You can hear him come even closer but yet you continue to look out the window. His light touch lands on your shoulder. A shock rocks up your spine and pulls the skin to the back of your neck into bumps.
“Harvey.” You say at last. Not a greeting nor an invitation to stay. You say his name in only acknowledgement that he is the one that is touching you.
“Did you do it?” He asks. You assume he means if you set out what you looked into doing and so you answer simply.
“Yes.” He removes his hand finally. Now able to feel how much warmth was in his palm after he pulled it away.
“I congratulate you then. I’m sure it was not easy.” Your eyes well, but you still look out of the window. Looking for anything that might take you away from this moment.
“Thank you.” Voice still flat.
“I know I am likely amongst in the amount of people that you do not wish to speak with. I only came today because Haley told me that if I didn’t, she was going to let you go away and never come back. She told me that you were hiding something from me and I need to go to you.” Harvey’s presence looms over you like a storm that hovers above the earth. You can tell he is trying to be kind and patient. You on the other hand are not those things at this very moment.
“Then it seems you have wasted you time coming here today, Doctor Sullivan. I meant the words that I said to you in January. I do not wish to see you again while we are both alive on this earth.”
“I will not accept that. I waited for you for months and I hear nothing. You come back and yet I do not see you but your spirt lingers in the town. Every time I hear that you had visited you left not even ten minutes before. I don’t know how to live in this town that you also live and not be able to see you. Talk to you.” Harvey’s voice drops lower and into a whisper. Bending himself to speak directly into your ear.
“I don’t know how you expect me to keep your wishes when I haven’t stopped loving you this whole time.” He says that and your heart hurts. You can feel the same way but it’s grim to bear the idea of accepting his love again. Harvey’s hands reach again to your shoulders. This time both land to help turn you to face him. You can hear Harvey speak your name but all you can focus on is his eyes.
Watching his eyes scanning you to finally be able to see you again. You watch as his face softens and then he sees it. The relaxed nature of his face hardens again.
“You are with child.” He says it as a statement, but it is hinted with question.
“I am.” You meet his gaze.
“Is this mine?” No, you want to say. You want to lie to him and tell him that it is someone else’s and then he will not feel obligated to stay next to you. Instead, you say nothing and cast your eyes away from him. Hands moving to brush off him from your shoulders.
“I do not know to be truthful.” You say to him. Still a lie but not as blatant.
“You are lying to me.”
“Why? Why would I do that at this point? I am not lying to you Doctor Sullivan.” He exhales a deep breath that he was holding in his chest.
“How far along are you?” He asks politely.
“I do not know.” You answer truthfully.
“Come to the clinic so I can assess you. Please.”
“I do not think that would be very wise.”
“Pelican Town does not have a midwife. I am the only doctor for miles. I will be the one to deliver this babe and I will see to it that its mother receives the care she needs to grow this child.” He ducks his head once more to meet your eyes. You meet his eyes and cave in.
“I will.”
-
Not long you arrive to the clinic with the doctor on your heels. It had been seven months since you have been in here. Stepping into the room where you and Harvey confessed your love to each other nearly a year ago itself felt like a lifetime ago.
“Please have a seat on the patient bed.” He motions for you to have a seat. He picks up the pitcher of water to pour into the basin to wash his hands drying them with the white towel that sits alongside the bowl.
“I am going to listen to the baby. Please just try to stay still.” He takes what almost looks like a bugle and presses it to your abdomen[1]. After moving it two or three times he shakes his head.
“I cannot hear anything.” At first you are worried until he finishes the rest of his statement.
“Are you still wearing your corsets?” He asks plainly.
“I am yes. Is that a problem.”
“Well somewhat but I suppose at least not yet. Right now it makes it so I am unable to hear the baby. I do not wish to ask this of you but.”
“You need me to remove the corset.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“And that involves taking off the whole dress.”
“I know and I apologize. Believe me, I would not make you do this if I didn’t need to check the baby’s health.” You nod in understanding. There is no point in arguing at this moment. Your hands shake as you remove the first few buttons.
After removing the dress and corset you are lift in your chemise and drawers. Sitting on the bed once more Harvey has you lie down. Shifting awkwardly while you lay your head on the pillow that was provided by him. His hands begin to lift your chemise, and your hand reflexively grasps his wrist. His head turns up to look at you.
“I am only to bring it above your stomach and that is all. No further than that.” Letting go of his wrist he finishes pushing the cotton fabric across your swollen abdomen. First, he takes his hands, and he pushes around on you to find the babes location. He writes notes to the side that you will likely ask him after. Second, he brings the horn once again to your belly and pressing his ear against it. It’s cold against the sensitive skin that it touches. You shiver in response to him moving the horn to different places along your side. You can’t help but let your mind wander, you had let this same man this close to you for so long and your body began to recognize it.
Third, Harvey sits back up, writes more notes and looks to you with that same look of nervous fear that he keeps constantly.
“I am going to have to check one more thing.” He says while pushing the arm of his glasses up his nose.
“And what might that be.”
“I uhm” He coughs “I need to check your mucus plug.”
“My what?”
“The part in your body that keeps the baby well…inside. I need to check to see if there is any sign of deformity or thinning. Those could result in the loss of the child. It will be very quick I can promise you.”
“I suppose if that may be the case then do what you must.” That thought had never occurred to you. What if you lost the babe? What would happen to you if that happened?
“Would you be so kind as to remove your drawers for me?” Harvey speaks breaking you from your thought.
“Why is it that you cannot go through the slit?”
“Positioning.” You concede with a roll of your eyes and push down the same fabric that lie above it. ‘Heavens I didn’t think I would be in this position with this man again.’
“I will do my absolute best to ease any discomfort you may have. You will feel a slight pinch in the beginning, but it should get better over time.” You blink quickly at him with wide eyes. Those are the same words he said to you on the second day you met.
“What did you say?” You asked with surprise in your voice.
“Apologies. I said this shall be quick please try to relax this may feel uncomfortable.” He repeats himself.
“Oh…I see. Yes, well do what you must.” He makes a single nod of his head before he rolls his chair further down the bed. Ushering your legs to bend and open. Your breath quickens in fear and other feelings. Ones that you should not have.
“Wait. Harvey.” You say as you feel his hand approaching you.
“Yes? Are you alright?” He looks up to you from between your legs hand stopping is progression.
“You were right.” You say to him. Uncertainty creeping its way across his face.
“What about?” He asks politely.
“It is yours. It must be, there is not a single soul other than yours that it could be. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t know what to say to you, but right now I’m scared.”
His eyes stare at you blankly as he considers what you have just told him.
“I need nothing from you. It seems that I am in a vulnerable position at present and I just needed you to know in case something happens to me.”
“In case something happens to you? What are you speaking of?”
“In case of in my delivery I am lost. I want it noted that this child will still have a father.” He looks away from you for a moment.
“I’m sorry, please finish what you were doing. I apologize that I interrupted.” He nods to you. Placing his finger against you. His fingertip was cold and it felt like ice upon the warm skin. He takes a deep breath and you mimic him. You feel his finger slide in with minimal effort and no pain. You tilt your head back with an incapability of keeping the sounds in your throat. A low soft groan left your lips. You look down at Harvey who is looking at you with wide eyes and his hand is completely still.
“I!” You begin to say but then his finger moves out and pushes back in. Your statement was lost behind the moan that fell out of your mouth on its own. He does it again so slowly that it feels like he’s questioning if he should do it or not. Clearly you haven’t stopped him yet. He understands that and begins to pump his fingers a tad faster. Moving from snail to languid pace. Your moans fall quietly now as the sensitivity of you makes each push feel heightened. Harvey continues like this, watching and waiting for you to stop his treatment.
But it doesn’t come. What he gets instead is a whine in frustration. A discreet plea for him to continue further. Making quick work he moves his hand a little faster feeling more like the pace he set for your treatments. Each pull away from your body makes the noise a little louder.
“More.” Your plea now truly verbal. Harvey who had removed his eyes from you to watch what he was doing looked up to you again. Your eyes locked with his and you saw the hint of worry, but you didn’t care. Harvey nodded to you then proceeded to add a second finger. Regaining speed, he watches with awe written across his face. He tentatively leaned down to kiss the inside of your thigh. The lightest brush you’ve ever felt from him, lips barely grazing over the skin that was there. You open your legs just a little more to make more room for him.
His lips trail against the inside of your thigh each press of his lips harder than the rest. Each sultry soft sound of his lips disconnecting from the flesh has you yearning for just a little more. His fingers still making their rediscovered mission within you. The lasting pace of his hand made you hunger.
“Harvey.” You speak as your hand now cards through his soft hair at last. He looks up at you, mouth still connected to your leg. You prop yourself up ever so slightly to see over the swell. Harvey removes his lips from you, sitting now straight he began to withdraw his fingers from you to place them in his mouth. You watch him with intensity as he tastes you from his hand. His tongue passing his own hand as though he was licking a most delicious dessert. His eyes lock on to yours once again and with no words he locks his arms beneath your knees.
With unhurried movement he bent down once more before attaching his mouth to you in a way you have not felt in months. You let out a loud hiss as you dropped yourself onto your back once more. Hand immediately in his hair to grasp within the wavy brown strands. Your mouth drops open to a feeling that you were familiar with once but now was foreign and much more intense than you remember it being. His tongue unrelenting in its goal to taste all of you, moving as though he has never had the opportunity before nor will he again.
Minutes go by of this: the sweet moans that bounce from the walls land into his ear to make him groan into you and the cycle repeats. That is until you had enough to then urge him to break his seal against you. Harvey does so with a grumble of displeasure. You observe what you had failed to notice before. His eyes seemed older now, his sideburns now turning greyer, his skin even seems to be less nourished. ‘Had he really been affected this much?’ you think to yourself. In that second without stopping to truly understand what you are about to say and how he will take its meaning. You say aloud.
“I missed you.” Before you can even blink his mouth is on yours like the first time you confessed your hearts. Your kiss lasted long enough to leave you breathless and panting. Calling his name again you lie back down with again open legs speaking to him in no words, but he still understands as though you gave him full direction. He makes haste to see his waist coat rid of him. Followed by each other article of clothing he was wearing. Your hand lays atop his shoulder as he looks down to you. Chemise gone in the time he removed the rest of his clothing.
His hand brushes over your belly now round and truly seen by the both of you. His palm lay against the bottom side of your belly, thumb moving in soothing circles. Harvey smiles once more to lean down to press another kiss upon your lips.
“I can’t believe I did this.” He speaks his mouth still against yours.
“Me neither,” You respond back while playing with the edge of his moustache. With one last kiss he enters you fully. His arms instantly wrap around you to hold you close as he began his thrusts. Groaning into his neck planting hot kisses and small suckles against his flesh. For the first time you hear Harvey growl in your ear. You were nearly going to ask why when his hips gained speed, and your head lulled back with a moan that was unmasked in anyway.
Harvey releases you to sit up straight again, hips never stopping in their movement. He places his hands over the roundness of your abdomen and speaks,
“I love you.” You moan to his words.
“I know.” You say through a whine.
“I’ve loved you this whole time.” His hips gain more momentum, and your head is thrown back one more time as you answer him again. This time the words that leave you are strained, “I know.” You say again. You hear him moan this time. His hands remove themselves from your belly to sit at your hips. His fingers grip onto the bone and flesh that lie there and use it for further leverage to increase the speed even more so. This time your moans turn to full cries of pleasure as he brings your hips down to meet his thrusts. The sound of obscene coupling filling the space of Harvey’s main office. Harvey looks to you once more.
“I want you to marry me.” He croaks through his own ecstasy. Your hand moves to hold his wrist as you fight to breathe. You open your mouth to say something and the only thing that leaves your mouth was another cry in pleasure. Gathering breaths in hard pants you are able to speak.
“I will.”
-
Some years later.
“Harvey! Sybil!” You yell from down the stairs. You hear sets of feet falling on each step. You see as the two of them wander into the kitchen.
“I need you to wash up before dinner, your father will be home from the clinic any minute!” You usher the two small children towards the sink for them to rinse their hands before they sit at the dining room table.
It doesn’t take long before Harvey is walking through the door. He gradually draws near before bending to place a deep kiss to your lips. Returning the kiss with equal fervour you eventually break.
“My dearest wife.” He says to you while smiling.
“My most darling husband.” You say to him while touching your nose to his.
Fin.
[1] A Pinard Horn. Invented 1895 but its close enough idrc
Set between 1880-1890, You have been feeling and acting off. After visiting the doctor's he sends you off to stay in Pelican Town where you are set to receive treatment for your condition. Upon arrival you learn the doctor administering these treatments is better than you think.
Harvey/ unnamed afab!reader
2nd pov
trigger warnings: reader is diagnosed with hysteria, mentions of depression, cheating/ adultery, doctor/ patient relationship, mentions of infertility, unplanned pregnancy, somewhat real descriptions of medical procedures
smut tags: No smut this time folks
notes: i do have this posted on ao3 if you'd prefer to read it there.
“You willingly spend time here? It seems that if I were to spend more than an hour here I may freeze through!” You tighten your cape over your shoulders to preserve heat.
“I suppose it may take some getting used to if you aren’t familiar with the dwelling.” He laughs looking down to you.
“I must agree with our friend here. It is most cold.” Haley added as you all walked down the hallway that leads to the court room. All feet walking in different paces, heels click harshly on the dark wooden flooring. Each step bringing you closer to ending this. The grey limestone walls of the outside pay no tribute to the ornately decorated wood that adorn the walls inside. Pictures of old judges, framed papers and patterned wallpaper line each inch of the hallway.
Mr. Acunin pauses his steps before a grandly large and even more elaborate wooden door. You see how the grain of the wood swirls in lighter and darker patterns. View the handles of a tarnished brass for the handles that curl onto themselves. He directs you and Haley to sit on a bench that sits perpendicular to the entrance itself. The floor now turned to tile that moves into more of a pattern of storytelling if you had the time to truly pay attention.
Your attention was called away by your lawyer beckoning you into the chamber. You look to Haley, worry etched across your face, and bile rising into your throat. You hold the tear in your eyes for a single moment. A blink and deep breath is most certainly all you will need.
“Breathe ma’am you will be okay. This will surely be over soon.”
“What if the judge finds me insane Haley?” Your prior reasoning falling fast.
“There is no time to dwell on that now. It cannot happen and it will not happen.” She shushes you with a calmness in her voice that reminds you of a mother hushing her crying child.
Taking in a deep breath from your nose again and straightening your posture you enter the room to find your lawyer. He stands tall at one of two tables facing the cherry wooded judges stand. Haley finds her seat behind where you and Mr Acunin are placed. It is not long before a few unfamiliar faces start joining as well. You watch as a few men that your husband works with join behind his side of the court room with him and his own lawyer in tow. Heavy groomed facial hair and a smell that reaches across the room fills your nose. Before you can register the disgust that rises you see a familiar face.
Seeing your husband for the first time in over a year. This is man who brought joy to you. Wrote you letters. Proclaimed his love openly and for all to see. This is the same man who once asked for your hand before the permission of your father. He had told you once upon a time that the rules be damned. He loved you and couldn’t live if he didn’t marry you at once. Seeing him now sends a chill that raises the hair up your arms. He smiles his notoriously handsome and charming smile. This captivated you once, but no more. There was a time the air was pulled away by a magic force when he stands a mere foot away from you.
Now it’s like the faerie’s glamour has fully faded away. The handsome face now reflected an ugly man. Brown hair that looks dull, skin that looks ashen, a smile that is more crooked than anything. Moreover than that, his voice, it spoke in grating tones once making full stop in front of you.
“I see you have become dough-bellied[1] in your absence. Was it all the time you had to lounge?” He speaks in a hushed tone that was intended for your ears only. Unable to form works you continue to stand and look at him.
“That is enough sir.” Mr Acunin says after clearing his throat. Your husband looks up to him and gives him a look you can’t quite decern. Your husband turns to his own lawyer and sits in the chair appointed to him.
Mister Acunin looks to you and tells you kindly, “Do not be intimidated by him. You have absolutely everything in your favor. You must let me speak and I will take care of it for you.” You nod to his words. Following his movement, you sit in the chair as well.
It’s not long before you are summoned to rise by the entrance of the judge. The judge himself is not a young man, his own hair now fully white and the showing of time pressed into every crack on his face. Upon his arrival to his chair, he looks over papers that are placed in front of him. The nobs of his knuckles addled with the unmistakeable look of arthritis clearly struggle to flip through the short stack of papers. He looks up to make eye contact with you and your husband respectively before he begins to speak.
“We are here for the dissolution of marriage between Mister and Missus Boyle, is that correct?” He speaks in a voice that is louder than you expected but doesn’t quite startle you. Both you and your husbands’ lawyers agree. You look back to Haley who has been joined by Robin in the time you were likely distracted. Smiling at seeing her here she mimics the same to you before you turn forward once more.
“Mrs Boyle it seems that you wish to end this marriage on the grounds of abandonment and adultery. Please have your lawyer present your evidence.” Mr Acunin gathers the papers that he acquired from his detective. Walking them up to the podium himself there was a long pause as the judge skims the pages one by one. Occasionally looking up towards your husband.
You watch as your husband begins to he eyes the judge nervously. He leans into his own lawyer to speak in hushed tones. You look to your own lawyer to see how he seems so confident. His face perfectly relaxed as he watches the judge with a pleased expression.
“It has been a full year now that you have seen your husband?” The judge asks as he reads the last page. You open your mouth to speak before Mr Acunin speaks for you.
“Yes, your honor. It has been 13 months and 20 days since she has last had any form of contact with her husband. As you can see, there are correspondence from her to her husband, but none such returned.”
“Is there anything you would care to add?” Directing his question to your husbands’ lawyer.
“Not at present, your honor.” His lawyer states simply.
“Am I to understand correctly that your wife’s treatments for Briquet’s syndrome[2] were fully concluded on June the twenty-third in the year 1892?”
Mr Acunin speaks once more, “As according to the statement given by way of Western Union to Mr Boyle, that would be true.”
“I have asked the husband not you Mr Acunin you should be wise to stay silent.”
Your husband clears his throat to speak, “Yes, your honor.”
“And you move for your wife to be institutionalized? Why should that be?” Time slows as you look to your husband. He has a smug smile on his face as though he were to say, ‘is it not obvious?’. Looking to Robin who had gone through something similar at a point. You see that her features take upon a look of shock as she looks to the judge for any type of statement.
“My wife has sent me many letters while she was away to be treated for her condition. If you are to read them over your honor, you will see that her increased frequency in their dates. You will also read that in her time in the countryside that she had not made any marginal progress with her mental state.” Your husbands’ lawyer walks your letters up to the judge for him to read.
The judge pages through them one by one. Each and every letter. You have begged your husband in the beginning to let you home, but in time not as much. You think to yourself for obvious reasons. The statement still stands, that all you wished to know was of your life back at home. Yet you had heard nothing, and it was worrisome. Shouldn’t anyone be worried for their family?
Mr Acunin responds to the judges statement. “Your honor if I may?” The judge looks up from the letters and grants him permission.
“You have a written statement from the diagnosing doctor of the lady’s initial symptoms. Also, a second from the treating Doctor Sullivan to the husband of her progress, yes? Doctor Harvey Sullivan had disagreed with the initial diagnosis, and it is detailed in this statement written after her treatment was concluded. I would motion that the husband wishes to alienate his wife from society for no proper evidence be tossed.”
“You wish for me to throw away Mr Boyle’s motion to see his wife insane on the grounds that her doctor had deemed her misdiagnosed? Am I to be correct?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“I should see your motion granted. With no proper evidence against Mrs Boyle, I cannot see her be institutionalized.”
“Your honor. I do think that you should reconsider. My wife has been truly wicked since she has learned that she is baren!” Your husband interjects with malice to his words. Venom seeming to drizzle heavily from each syllable
“You would do well to keep your tone inside my courtroom sir! I will not have such an intolerance, and may I remind you that you are here on word of adultery against your wife? I will not hear another word from you unless it is pre-approved by your lawyer’s council. Do I make myself clear Mr. Boyle?”
“Yes, your honor.” He squeaks defeated.
You heave a sigh of relief upon hearing his words. You turn to Haley and Robin once more to find Robin sending you a wink of approval. Haley smiling her jammy[3] smile
“Missus Boyle.” The judge says. You give him your full attention as you respond that he has as such. He continues, “I should also mention that you seek permission to remarry after your divorce today, is that correct?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“I shall allow that as well. May you find better luck in the future. Now am I to correctly understand that there is already agreed upon division of assets?”
Mr Acunin takes over once more. Speaking in his smooth and generally charismatic tendencies, “Yes, we have worked it with both sides and we have come to agreement. Mrs. Boyle here has equitable title in the cottage home in Pelican Town, Massachusetts. While Mr. Boyle owns the legal title for the land. My client wishes to keep the property that she has invested her inheritance into while allowing her husband to keep the properties that she obtained after her father’s death, in 1885, in exchange.”
“Mr Boyle do you have any objection to this?” Asked the judge. Before your husband’s lawyer was able to make proper rebuttal, your husband cut him off.
“No, your honor. That land was given to me by my grandfather upon his death. I wish to keep it in my family.”
You look to Mr Acunin for an answer. He does not make any glance down in your direction before he speaks louder than previously. His eyes filled with a drive that you had seen in yourself not too long prior.
“You honor, if I may, Mrs Boyle has invested a sum of $16, 290.93 [4] on this property over the last six years. I should say that with that amount of money put into the property for renovations, living and for fun. This sum should be much less than the three properties that generate passive income revenue that my client is willing to trade. She is willing to make this trade because before my client began renovations this property sat untouched.”
“Do you happen to have any of testimonial proof, Mr Acunin?”
“I do your honor. I have the carpenter that was employed to make these renovations.” Mr Acunin motioned for Robin to stand from her seat. She did so, standing with the skirts of her dress swinging from the speed. Her red hair sat upon her head twisted so wonderfully and she stood so tall for that moment.
“Objection!” Your husband lawyer yells. Everyone’s eyes turn to him surprised.” This woman that stands before you was a previous client of Mr Acunin. She has been persuaded by them to prove false testimony.”
Mr. Acunin looks to his opponent and speaks flatly.
“Yes, that is correct. Robin is a previous client of mine, on a wholly unrelated case. You will find not only invoices that were written by Robin herself, but you will also see the signature of my client who oversaw the financial aspect of the work done to the cottage.” The judge made the motion for Robin to continue. Mr. Acunin leads Robin out of the seats.
“Mrs. Robin. You are the carpenter who completed all the cottage’s additions in their entirety, correct?”
“Yes.” She spoke with middle tone.
“Each of these additions with renovations costs of labour and material cost a substantial amount of money. My client is the one who paid in full, is that true?”
“Yes, she was my main form of communication. Each time the couple would visit she would commission my work on what she would like seen done with the property.”
“I see, thank you Missus. I have no further questions.” Mr. Acunin departs from her and takes his seat next to you once more. Your husband’s lawyer stands after having a hushed conversation with his own client.
“Mrs. Robin you state that the commissions were requested by the wife of my client. Am I to understand that my client’s wife requested these additions without the acknowledgement of her own husband?” His lawyer raises the watch that lay in his waist pocket, flicks it open, then promptly puts it back. Robin looks to you, eyes meeting. You attempt to speak to her in her mind knowing that it is impossible. ‘We may be through’.
“Yes and no. The first addition to be added to the cottage was a kitchen. A commission that was requested upon by both parties. The lady told me she saw them using the cottage more and would require a kitchen for food to be prepared for obvious reasons.” She sang truths that you had nearly forgotten until this very moment. ‘That is correct’ you think to yourself.
“But you said there is a no. What were the commissions that were not authorized by my client?”
Robin clears her throat and shifts uneasily before she speaks, “Well you see the second addition that I made was to be a surprise. My own client in the form of work had asked me to keep discrete secret from her husband. It was one year since I was last at their cottage when she approached me. She told me she had reason to suspect that she may be in the family way at the time and wished for me to build a nursery for them. So, I did, I was told that it was to be a surprise for when the babe should arrive and next year there will already be a place for it. To my complete knowledge this is the only commission from the lady that her husband was not aware of, nor was it unwanted when the surprise was revealed.” You look to your husband who at this point is staring burning daggers into Robin for her words. His lawyer looks to him for a single second. Perhaps to offer reassurance or perhaps it was to express his discontent with the false accusations his client had given him.
“I have no further questions for the carpenter.” He said to the judge, allowing Robin to make her way back to her seat. “Although, I do have a question for my opponents’ client.” Your head turns to Mr Acunin. Who smiles reassuringly in response. Nodding you stand to your feet for the first time in what feels like two hours.
“Mrs. Boyle, based on the notes of several doctors, you seem to be a barren woman, why should you commission such a costly renovation to a property that does not belong to you.” You take a deep shaking breath. Knowing a new truth that you cannot speak to at present is something that makes your head spin. You are not barren, and you have every right to keep the property that you poured your own money into. Sucking in one more beath before answering.
“Yes sir. That seems to be the case, however in just two years and four months into our marriage I believed I still could be afflicted.” Memories flash behind your eyes of those days. You smile with a sombre recollection. The corners of your lips turning upwards, eyes flashing to your husband then back to the judge.
“I will not repeat to your honor how I suspected my affliction, but it was just that. A suspected affliction, I was too hasty in my excitement. I wished for whatever child to have his own place for once he grows. For him to bring his own family someday and there already be a space for his family to be. I did not commission this from the Pelican Town carpenter out of malice. I asked for her to allow this cottage to still run in the family for years to come. His grandfather took great care in this cottage, and I wished it to stay alive. I still do and I have grown so fond of the area that surrounds the cottage. That is why I offered to my husband that he keeps my property in exchange.” You hear your heart beating with ferocity, the blood pushing its way to the tips of your ears feels hot.
“Your honor.” You speak once more, “The properties that I am willing to exchange for operates as a way of income. With two apartment buildings. One that is a four tenant, two units. As well as one that is a six tenant, also two units. That generates on a monthly basis of $50. Not only that. My husband has been collecting this rent monthly for the entirety of our marriage. If my arithmetic is correct that is 72 months of collecting $50. That totals to $3,600 for our marriage. Plus, the apricated value of the property’s land. Making these two properties a total of $12,347.91. I understand that yes, it is lower than the price in which I have paid for the cottage. I remind you your honor, that the properties still provide income and rent will be raised allowing for more monetary allowance. I also bring to light that my husband's grandfather built this same cottage in 1825 for three-hundred-forty-two dollars and in these 68 years the cottage has actually depreciated in value. It is true that the same amount of money today would only be worth two-hundred-ninety-three dollars. I know I have put just over sixteen thousand but that does not mean that the property is worth that much your honor.”
Your husband looks shocked, jaw slack in awe of your statement to the judge. The man looks down to you, eyes narrowing then to your husband. An expression engraved on his face that seems foreign and unreadable written across the once beautiful features.
Then it hits you. He’s worried. You have never seen your husband worried about anything. He has gone through his whole life unbiddenly confident in everything he did. He didn’t even express worry in his want to elope with you. He said it as it was a fact and that was that you were to get married. Even now you look to him like he means something to you despite all the wrong he has done you. Eventually he turns his head and sees you just as you see him. Instead of a look of apology or remorse, he sneered in your direction. Nose turning high as he tilted his head back towards the judge.
“You may be excused for now. We shall reconvene in 30 minutes, and I shall have my ruling.” The judge then proceeded to dismiss everyone. Standing hurriedly, you moved your way through the building to find the temperate air of mid-April. The afternoon sun dances across your skin in wonderful warming kisses.
Standing in the sunlight for a few moments you are startled from your empty mind by Robin. She gently touches your elbow as she approaches you from behind. Turning to face her you smile to her.
“My friend.” Still holding your elbow she squeezes, “All will be well. Have faith and what you wish shall happen.” Robin drops her hand from your arm.
“I have news to share with you.” You speak to her in hushed tone. Robin leans in for her to share in your secret. “Not now. We must wait. I wish to see how this ends before I tell you.” She looks at your worried. You reassure her that all will be well.
-
Coming back to the chamber is cold. Perhaps it was your own thoughts that made it as though the stale air in the court room was fridged. Mr Acunin soon takes his place next to you and all the rest of the bodies fill in after that. A quiet whine from the door and the judge is making his way through. All rise to greet the judge once more before he beckons you all to sit. Doing so he follows suit. Tapping the pages given to him during testimony in a stack on his desk he looks up.
The nerves in your stomach rise to your throat making it tight with anxiety. The judge looks over the papers once more before casting his eyes to all those before him.
“Mister and Missus Boyle.” He states loudly enough to jolt you to attention voice bouncing from the walls behind you in an echo. You rise along with your lawyer picking your nail beds you look to the unreadable judge’s face.
“Today, by me and the state of Massachusetts, your union will no longer be considered valid. Not only that. Missus Boyle you are eligible for marriage due to your husbands’ faults. Not only did his faults neglect you, abuse you and hold you against your freedom as a citizen of this fine state, but he will also be stripped of the land that he wishes to keep from you. I will allow the trade of property even though, Missus Boyle, you hold no claim to the land even if you hold majority stake in its equitable value. Mister Boyle you may keep the two apartments that gain passive income, as you will be using that money to pay for spousal support until your previous wife becomes married once more.” Your husband moves to say something, but his lawyer stops him before he can begin.
“You are all dismissed. Congratulations Ms. Boyle.” He smiled to you before he left the chamber all together. You breathed fresh air and turned to Mr Acunin holding out your hand to him he gleefully shakes it.
“You know in another life you would have been a great lawyer.” He winks then motioning for you to follow him. Coming back out into the mid-afternoon light of Boston was as wonderful as it was just twenty minutes ago. He calls for a carriage. The horses trample ahead of you before the wheels come to a halt before the four of you. Loading you into the carriage one by one he brings you back to his home for the time being.
-
Two days have gone by since then. With a smile you said you will be returning home to the valley. Robin and Haley helped you collect your belongings along with scheduling a train back to Pelican Town.
It was two more days after that when you became settled again. Feeling happy to be back in the place that was your prison but now is your home. You can come and go as you please walk around the town as an official one of its citizens. Now it seems to be a matter of how you are going to spend your time. These however are thoughts for different days for now you have the news to share with Robin.
She arrives to your door an hour later and you answer the door yourself. Having dressed yourself today you wear something similar to what Robin wears on a daily basis. Some clothes more suited to daily living life rather than high society life. You greet each other warmly as she enters your home. For the first time you can officially call this your home, and it felt so satisfying. As Robin makes her way into the sitting area you glance out the window. Seeing nothing but the growing trees you sit across from her.
“I believe you have news to share with me.” Robin is the first to break the comfortable silence.
“Yes, yes I do. But before that. Would you like any tea?” You ask while standing from your seated position.
“Do not stall. I do not care for tea now I care about what information you have that you are keeping from me.” She blurts causing you to sit where you started.
“I guess I will just come out with it.” Taking a deep breath, Robin looks to be on the edge of her seat.
“I am with child.” You say so quietly that it was almost hard to register even to your own ears.
“I’m sorry, you’re what?” She says as starkly as she had when she commanded you tell her. Not saying a word Robin speaks again, “I wish to make sure that I heard you correctly. Did you say that you are with-”
“Yes.” You cut her off, “Please do not say it again.”
“But how? Was it Mr Acunin?” Robin leans forwards.
“No!” You blurt before calming to speak evenly. “No. No it was not the lawyer. He was a perfectly respectable gentleman these last four months I have been staying with him. It was before Boston.” Your sentence trailed off after the emphasis on before. You run your eyes over Robin’s face as you watch her deduce who could be the father.
“Surely it wasn’t…” She says to herself and looks to you. Your eyes do not meet hers as the gaze down the table that sits in front of you both,
“It was Doctor Harvey.” You say as inaudible as when you told her the news. She places her hand on her mouth in surprise then to your hand in comfort.
“What are you going to do?” She asks you after a moment of silence.
“I have yet to figure that out. Haley tells me I need to tell the doctor at once, but I am not so sure. I feel more lost than ever before.” You tilt your head up toward the ceiling with the hope that it may stop the tears that have threatened to fall.
“I wish I could know what to do Robin.” And then the well cracks again with a single scalding hot tear streaking down your cheek.
“Do not cry my friend. We will figure out something to do. I promise you this.”
Set between 1880-1890, You have been feeling and acting off. After visiting the doctor's he sends you off to stay in Pelican Town where you are set to receive treatment for your condition. Upon arrival you learn the doctor administering these treatments is better than you think.
Harvey/ unnamed afab!reader
2nd pov
trigger warnings: reader is diagnosed with hysteria, mentions of depression, cheating/ adultery, doctor/ patient relationship, mentions of infertility, unplanned pregnancy, somewhat real descriptions of medical procedures
smut tags: cunnilingus, masturbation
notes: i do have this posted on ao3 if you'd prefer to read it there.
“Harvey!” You moan smoothly as he kisses the inside of your thigh. Moustache hairs tickling you at the drag of his smoothed over lips that trail against you.
“Yes?” He speaks into the fine skin of your leg.
“Why must you insist on torturing me so?” You can feel the smile rise from him as he places a wet kiss to the point where your sex and thigh meet. You moan with knowing of a promised pleasure.
“Why wouldn’t I?” His tongue finally meeting the split of you. The familiar electric zips to the bottom of your belly with an ease that still feels exciting and even dangerous. Keening in approval with a lilt in your hips. As though they are searching for him all on their own. The tonging continues as he makes his hum of approval as he knows at this point when your end draws near. His increase in intensity marks it as such.
“Harvey..” Your voice trails and eventually breaks from your single word.
“Yes?” He responds albeit with his mouth still somewhat attached. Your hands find their home the silky locks of hazelnut that sprout from his head. Running your fingers so that his hair falls from between your fingers lovingly. He hums again with his own pleasure attached.
Tilting your head you gaze down at your lover as you drink in the sight of him once more. Your eyes cast their gaze upon him like it’s the last time you’ll see him in his brilliance. His own hand making guileful movement against himself. Trousers undone and pulled down just enough so that he may free himself. His own grip like that of which his other hand has on your knee.
You can feel his own breaths from out his nose become more stuttered against you. Fingers tightening against his hair; you find your end watching him find his within his grasp.
“Sometimes I never wish for this to end.” You speak half to him and half to the walls, should they be listening.
“Then it won’t” He takes a brief pause as though he is contemplating, “Of course, unless you find a day that you want it to.” He says casually while wiping his hands clean of his own spend. Your mind frowns at the thought of leaving.
“I think I should like to stay here in Pelican Town. It is charming here…”
“Do you say this because you have found me charming?” He laughs as he leans down beside your bed to capture your lips by his own as though he has proved his point.
“Not only you, but it’s the town. The people, the scenery, the weather. All of it. I find myself very happy here.” You smile against his lips as they connect once more.
Your head shakes free from the memory of the two of you. That day was in October only just three months ago. Now standing on the platform to leave Pelican Town felt surreal. The pine boards sit mockingly beneath foot as your train can be heard blaring in the distance. The day after meeting Robin she did as she said she would. She called on you after dinner to tell you that she had spoken to your lawyer, and you can find yourself a place to stay with him. She bid you a farewell and safe travels after placing your train ticket into your palm. You leave her with a promise to visit as soon as this was all over.
Finding yourself waiting to see if Haley will show, you rock nervously on your heels. The train is coming in with it’s dark plume visible even from this distance. You recall your husband speaking to his colleagues of the advancement in recent trains and their remarkable speeds of reaching nearly 30 miles per hour for a passenger car.
This was not such the case as the train comes to a slow screeching halt and stopping with a hiss as the attendant opens the door. Taking the case from you to board, your nerves consume you as you look for your friend. Walking to see past the nose of the engine to find nothing. Scanning the dirt path now covered in trampled snow that leads to the platform for any sign of the sunlight hair to come into view. Defeated you turn back towards your car to hand your ticket to the attendant who had put your luggage up for you.
Settling in your seat you look out of the window to have your last glance to where you have called your home for nearly the past year. Even though the town is blocked by a thicket of snow-capped evergreen trees you can see the smoke coming from chimneys as it rises and dissipates into the blanket of winter white clouds from above. The seat was surprisingly comfortable. Running a hand over the near velvet material to feel its roughness beneath your palm.
A huff came from across from you startling you away from your hypnotism of the seat. The seat giving a cough as someone sat in it abruptly. Looking up startled to see Haley sitting across from you panting. After having clearly run you can see the color in her cheeks as she spoke.
“Apologies, I nearly missed the train!” She spoke with the air missing from her words. Using her hand to move the fly away hairs from her face she smiles to you as a way to say, ‘don’t worry I’m here’. You smile back.
_
Mr. Acunin came to meet you as you arrived in the city. It’s so much louder than you remember as you hear the bustle of people, the horses pulling the carriages, the goings of more trains from beyond the current stop. You look to Haley, who has never been further than her own town. Her eyes wide in wonder as see takes in the scenery before her. Your voice greeting the lawyer is what took her gaze from that around her. Before long you are being issued into your own carriage and carted away.
“Glad to be back?” He asks as you and Haley are carted through the streets.
“There are many more of the Broomstick Carts[1] now than there were a year ago at this same time.”
“Yes, there is much more pavement laid and they’ve started the construction on what is to be the library. I suspect that they should be completed within two years with the pace they seem to be moving.”
“How exciting, don’t you agree Haley a brand-new library!” She doesn’t say anything as she continues to keep her gaze fixed on the city beyond the window of the cart.
“Haley?” You speak again.
“Oh, do not bother her. Let her see. There are worlds of people out there the girl has never seen, let her soak in the sight and be joyful. When was the last time you looked at the world like that? You may have been here before and have travelled these streets, roamed the shops but the girl has only had her one town.”
Mr. Acunin’s words struck you deeply. When was the last time you looked at the world around you with awe and innocent curiosity? When had you done something for yourself that didn’t involve someone else’s direct influence or gain? Could you recall the last time you looked at the world and saw beauty and marvel in the simplest things that you have seen every day?
You recall earlier before your ride on the train and looking at the doctor. You recall each time you looked at him and not just looked but saw. The day he came in after your argument and him wishing to talk to you. How you could see that he was tired, but through knowing him you know that he didn’t sleep. You could see it etched into each crevice of his face. Every deep line; under his eyes, beside his eyes, next to his mouth. Then you think of his smile. How he is always very polite and doesn’t smile fully around others. But with you, you can see all his teeth when he smiles. Know the sound of his full laugh and the weight of his mirth that accompanies it.
You are sick with a sudden sadness as you find yourself smiling of the man who hurt your heart. The conflict of knowing that he lied to you, in knowing that he told you he loved you in every moment he could, knowing each and every thing that has occurred was wrong because you are still married. Still married and still loved. Just not by the same person. You feel as though you are torn in two. You love the man that lives hours from here, in the same place Haley has just fled from with you, but he has hurt you. Tried to send you away, never gave you information regarding the absolute madness that was your diagnosis during the time nor would he willingly give it to you after.
And yet you are made to sit here with a stranger and someone that you met only mere months ago. You know that they are deemed to be trustworthy but in this moment it strikes you how different life can be. How quickly a single letter can make your life change, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. It can’t be known what yet lies in that for you, but it is assumed that events will occur and to that you are certain.
_
A month passes. Nothing happens. Then three more weeks after that and something does happen.
It was a seemingly normal day in early March.
The windows are still frosted as you have moved into the beginning of spring. You’re counting down the days until it has been officially one year since you’ve seen your husband last. The cold sea air still making its way into Boston from the harbor sending the occasional chill down through the lit chimney. You can feel as Haley makes her movement small to sit close to you on the couch.
Haley doesn’t so much as serve you as she is your companion on this venture. She has accompanied you on a venture out with Mr Acunin’s associate to speak with the ladies who know your husband. At first, they didn’t seem all too keen on speaking to you, but after you told them who you were you found a great deal about your husband that the man joining you transcribed down for evidence.
However, it was today that made all the difference in how you viewed the world and how you viewed yourself.
“Ma’am?” You look up from your book as you shift uncomfortably on the couch in the lawyer’s home.
“I do not wish to pry on a sensitive manner however I have a very serious question for you.” Your eyebrows push together in concern.
“Well?” You ask as to not make it sound rude but concerned.
“I don’t suppose there really is any other way to say it. When was your last menses? I only ask because I am the one who usually kept track of your supplies when such occurred. It dawned on me this morning that I have had two since being here and I haven’t recalled you saying even once.”
You’re shocked for a single moment. Then flabbergasted. Utterly silent as you attempt to recall the last time you bled. A single thought popped through like a frog rising to the surface of the water to stick his head out. Slow and tentative as it pushed its way through. And your mouth went dry.
“But surely I can’t.” You whispered to Haley.
“When?” She called your name to you softly as she tried to coax the answer from your mind.
“In February. I bled for two hours about two weeks after our arrival.” You responded. Mouth feeling sticky as your shaking hand grasped the cup of tea to drink.
“That long ago?!” She laughs to herself, “One where to think you might be-“ Haley cuts herself off before she looks to you. You had already whipped your head around to face her as she spoke.
“The night of the snowstorm. Doctor Harvey’s birthday.” She said quietly enough you could barely hear it. Nodding you look down with still shaking hands.
“But I can’t be though. Surely. I had tried for six years with my husband. I am baren! There is no way for me to-“ A tear falls from your eye as your words become more panicked before they stop all together. Haley is closer now and has a hand laid to rest on your back. You turn your head back to hers and look into her blue eyes.
“None of us have it in us to tell him that he is likely unable.” You said to Haley. She looked confused for a moment before the words dawned on her just the same as they had you. Like a fish, you feel like you’ve been pierced and left in the sun to rot.
You felt sick as you look down and see nothing. There is no pushing against your corset, no tenderness in your breasts, no illness in the morning. If you had been in the family way[2] you would have shown by now. Saying this to Haley makes her look at you with a look of pity and hope. A truly odd combination to see on one’s face, but it means nothing and to worry about it would make matters worse.
“It could be stress, Haley. After I moved to Pelican Town, it took me weeks to get my cycle.”
“This many weeks? Nearly six weeks?” She asks you with a tone in her voice that makes you less than happy.
“No, I don’t know. All I know is this cannot be an option. There can be no way that I am…pregnant. Especially not with Harvey’s child.” You respond angrily and Haley visibly winces back with her hand with her.
“I know that this is less than ideal, but is this what you wanted?” Her voice being captured by her want to make things seem better for you.
The door to the room swung open quickly as the lawyer walked in. Haley had by this point moved further down the couch. He approached as swiftly as he entered the room. You stood to greet him, and he offered to take your hands.
“Mister Acunin, what a pleasure to see you in the middle of the day. It isn’t often we see you in the light hours.” He laughs his toothy grin as you offer him your hand.
“I heard back from your husband’s lawyer. I needed to bring you the news in person.”
“Now you have raised my interest. Please do tell me, what news have you heard from my dreadful husband’s lawyer?” He releases your hand and motions you to sit. Catching his eye motion to Haley.
“She may stay, I prefer to keep her as witness.” You speak as you flatten your skirts to sit on the couch once again.
“Very well. Then great news. I have spoken to the attorneys for your husband, as you well know by now, and they have agreed that should you and your husband keep amicable separation then the only reason you should need to be seen by the judge is for the official disbanding.” You take a moment to process what he said.
“I’m sorry, I do not understand.” You say to him, and he shakes his head.
“In meaning that so long as you and your husband do not fight over what is to be divided then you should not need to have a trial with the judge to plead your case. You have already given me a listing of your shares of assets you brought in.”
“I care about the cottage and the remaining funds from my father. That is all I need. I care about nothing else.” Mr Acunin blinks for several times before speaking.
“And what of the other houses. The ones that you brought in?”
“He may have them if I can have the cottage and get to keep the remaining sum of my father’s money. Please include that when you meet with his attorneys next. I should like my own home out in the country. I rather like it there and keeping my father’s money means that I may be comfortable until I ever decide to remarry.” He nods before standing.
“Then ma’am we may be able to have this all finished come next month.” He says a thank you before leaving out the door once more.
Haley looks over to you in surprise, “You want to go back?”
“I think I do. Not for why you may think. I wish to be close to Robin. She may be my best way to properly care for this child.”
“So, you admit it then?”
“I will not admit anything until I have been properly seen and diagnosed.”
“You speak as though it is an illness.”
“Not an illness just a fright is all.”
_
Three more weeks pass after that. You are fighting the cold with Haley by your side. The spring has yet to make up its mind on whether or not it should begin to warm up again. Thus, bracing against the freshly spring air you wonder into the doctor’s office with Haley. The wooden door creaking against its old frame as you step in. The office itself has a few people littered around speaking in languages that you don’t quite understand. As you approach the desk where there was a nurse who greeted you.
“Hello Ma’am. What seems to be the issue?”
“Hello, um, I wish to see the doctor. I believe I may have a ‘condition’ and would like to see him for assurance.” You speak in a hushed tone.
“Oh, I see.” She looks down to your hand to see a still finely placed golden band on your left hand before she speaks again. “Do you have a family doctor that you would prefer to have visit your home?” She eyes you once more before she begins to handwrite into a book the reason for your visit.
“Normally yes, I would, but you see my husband and I just moved here from the country not three months ago. I just haven’t found the time for me to arrange that just yet.”
“I understand fully. May I have a last name to have on file for you?”
“Uh yes, Sullivan.” Haley coughs behind you in shock.
“Very well, Mrs. Sullivan. Please have a seat and I will retrieve you when the doctor is ready for you.” You tense as she says your name as such and look over to Haley who looks like the cat who swallowed the canary. As you and her sit on the wooden chairs with your back faced towards the window she speaks to you closely.
“So…Missus Sullivan how do you fare on such a crisp March morning?” Haley jokes adding extra emphasis on the name more than anything else.
“Do not play with me Haley. I do not enjoy having to lie, but I surely couldn’t give her my real name. Not when in just a few weeks there will be word of my divorce in the papers.”
“If you insist.”
“And I do.”
Twenty minutes of waiting falls by in a flash. You were making pleasant conversation with an elderly immigrant woman from Italy when they called you back. Leaving Haley behind and telling her you will see her once you return. The doctor was and older gentleman much how you expected Harvey to look when you first met him. His once dark hair now salt and peppered with a face that showed that the years have been kind to him.
“Mrs. Sullivan, I understand that you think you may be pregnant. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” You did your best to look as happy as you could in answering his question.
“Alright. Let me get these questions out of the way.”
After a set of the same questions you and Haley discussed three weeks prior. He seemed a fine doctor as he asked about typical symptoms. Asking you to lift your skirts so he may look closely. After a pinch of being uncomfortably spread open you begin to cry.
“Mrs. Sullivan, are you quite alright?”
“My apologies doctor. You see I have been in this position many times and not once had there been a happy outcome. My husband hasn’t always been the kindest when the news came back poor.”
“I see. I will do what I can to make this quick Missus. I am not a man who likes to have a lady cry in his presence.” After pushing and prodding and a quick poke the instrument is removed, and you are directed to lower your dress.
“Well congratulations Mrs Sullivan. Your cervix seems to be swollen and purple which by my indication tells me that you are pregnant. I may offer you an option for a midwife if I should know what side of town you live on.”
You breath out a deep sigh and cover over your stomach still in tears. The doctor takes this as a sign of happiness because he says,
“You seem like you may have waited an age for this. May your husband be better to you in the future now that you are able.”
“Thank you, sir. You have been most helpful, and hopefully discretionary. I wish to keep this as a surprise!” You lie once more through your teeth. “As for the midwife, I think I will go back to the country for the remainder of my condition. The city I fear may be too much.”
“Then be safe on your travels.”
You make a quick payment to the nurse who sits at the counter before making haste with Haley. She is fighting to keep pace with your stride as you make your way to the streetcar that will bring you back to your end of the city. After paying fare for the both of you, you both grab a bar as you wait for the car to start moving.
“Are we going to talk about what this doctor had to say?”
“This is not something we speak about in public Haley. We will wait until we are in the comfort of our secretive walls.” Haley nods in return.
_
“You must tell him.” Haley says to you in earnest.
“No.” You bite back bitterly.
“Yes, you must, it is his child.”
“This child may have been sired by him, but that does not mean that in any world that I would willingly let the man, who betrayed me mind you, believe that he should ever think to rear my child.”
Haley is struck dumb. She has no immediate response to this. All she says after a long pause is a question.
“What will happen after the child is born and begins to grow?’
“What do you mean?”
“You wish to move back, yes?” You nod to her in response. “This child will be born. You will raise it, and it will grow. Now what happens if this child is a boy? He will grow and he will look like Doctor Harvey. And what then? Will you deny him still even after a decade? People will see and moreover people will know. There are only so many people in Pelican Town, friend. You leave suddenly for a few months just after the whole of the town knows that you and he aren’t associated anymore, and then you come back. You may be able to walk freely in the town for a few weeks before you really need to stay inside or show the town that you are pregnant. There will be no way to hide that. I am telling you for the sake of your ‘so cared for reputation’ that you must tell him.” The look on Haley’s face shows that she is most serious. Nothing can help the fire that is lit under you and how it spits itself from your mouth before you can stop it.
“When did you think you could speak to me in such a sense Haley? When had you decided that we are equals in this sense?” You snap to her. Words falling from you in quick succession.
She closes her eyes and breathes in deep through her nose before she speaks, “I will choose to ignore your comment for now.” You go to speak again before she cuts you off, “Only for one reason and that is because you have nothing. You have no friends, no family and most of all you have no one else around you but me. I will not let you see me become your enemy. Not today.”
It was twice now that you feel as though you have been talked down to. You stand from the couch you have spent much of your time on here and begin to pace. Your hands fall to the front of your dress as you try to calm your mind.
“You are right. I apologise. I don’t know what came over me to say that.” You stop to look out of the window to see the city streets. Haley moves to stand to your left. Shoulder to shoulder you look down onto the pavement. The horses pulling carts, the streetcars riding down the rails placed in the street, the amount of people speaking in foreign tongues startles you. You felt homesick when first arriving in Pelican Town. The silence was eerie and uncomfortable but now that you have come back to the city something feels unsettling. Sometime during your stay you became accustomed to the sounds of nature and not people.
You see Mr. Acunin walk through his front door from the window. Upon realizing this you and Haley scramble to the couch to pick up various items. You a book and her, also a book. To look busy, you see, and to make it definitely very clear that you were not speaking about something that could, at the very least, find you in the most amount of trouble. As she enters the room you find yourself standing again like how you were just 45 seconds ago. He motions for you to sit.
“I have word once more.” He speaks cheerily.
“Only good ones, I pray.” You chuckle.
“Yes, his lawyers have agreed on his behalf. We still must see the judge to show the evidence of his wrong doings so he may grant you an eligibility to remarry.” He pauses to assess the look on your face. Eyes flicking in rapid movement across your face. Taking in a breath he speaks again, “I only say this since you expressed want previously.”
“I understand. Most certainly fantastic word you have brought Mister Acunin! When shall we set a date for then?”
“We are to have court two weeks from today, on Wednesday April the 26th.” He says to you with a smile in his voice. You turn to Haley who is already giggling with excitement. You laugh a little as well.
𓆩 summary ° ｡ eivor assists in securing your throne and your gratitude lies deeper than a mere alliance
𓆩 warnings ° ｡ queen! reader, throne sex, cunnilingus (r! receiving), fingering (r! recieving), degradation, praise, power play (eivor getting off on fucking a queen while simultaneously teasing them for letting her) usage of good girl, whore, lamb, eivor and reader having big phat crushes on each other
𓆩 wc ° ｡ 2,9k
𓆩 disclaimer ° ｡ this is a work of kink fantasy/fiction. within the world of kink and bdsm, consent is of upmost priority (also in general). even if the consent is not explicitly stated in the work, know and be assured that it is always given beforehand between all participants.
minors, men and ageless blogs dni. you are responsible for the content you read.
“are you not joining in on the merriment, my lady?”
eivor had appeared in the throne room silently, her features illuminated by the flames of the many braziers in the room. she wore a proud smirk, the victory from earlier in the day obviously still sung through her veins. rowdy shouts and songs of battle faintly filled the room from the longhouse. it sounded like the whole town was in there. you were sat comfortably in your new position, on your throne. reading through various letters from the townsfolk, in which most welcomed their new queen. that was until eivor’s gentle voice joined the crackling of the fires. she strolled towards you as her eyes took in your domestic form, pleasantly surprised. she was used to seeing you in noble wear. thick cloaks sewn with delicate designs and with the softest furs, tunics bearing rich colours, thick pants made to withstand the seasons and jewellery that vociferated your status. now, you donned a light nightdress with a shawl wrapped around your arms. you looked soft, she thought, as warmth filled her chest.
“no”, you smiled at her softly. “i would much rather be in my bed”
it had been 3 long months and a half of strategising, travelling, battles, meetings, dealing with ivarr’s bullshit, more battles because of said bullshit….you were ready to sleep for a month. to put it lightly. but having eivor by your side made it all bearable. you were taken aback by her confident demeanour at first, but that same confidence soon became a comfort that quelled your anxieties. without her, victory would not have been possible. she stopped at the bottom of the dais and her smirk grew into a smile. mischief swirling in her eyes.
“perhaps i could keep you company then?”
brazen, she was. your cheeks warmed. damned woman. you wished you had grown used to her teasing, but how could you when everything about her made you want her to plow you until you couldn’t walk?
“would you not be missed by your men in your celebrations?”
eivor shrugged. “we’ve celebrated enough victories together, i doubt missing one with them would be tragic”
“are you sure? celebrating with me is hardly any better, i’m only reading these”, you chuckled, waving the letters.
“it would be, i want to speak with you”, she said, with a hint of softness. you fought down a grin.
“you don’t have to worry, our alliance is secured. ravensthorpe now has a powerful ally”
“i trust that it is. but that’s not why i wanted to speak with you”
eivor’s gaze was suddenly intense. you adjusted, sitting straighter in your throne. “oh, is everything all right eivor?”
she said nothing and stepped up towards you. your eyes followed her until she was looking down at your form. it felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest in anticipation. she beckoned you to stand, with a feathery soft ‘come here’. you took her warm and calloused hands and they held you gently as you stood with her. your gaze shifted everywhere, : to the furs on her shoulders, her thumb caressing your knuckles, the weathered weapons belt that hung around her hips and accidentally, her lips. for far too long, you realised. cheeks warming even more.
eivor chuckled, and cradled your warm cheeks. tilting your head, making you look at her. though her rough hands were scarred and capable of cutting down men larger than her, she held your face tenderly. you've never felt more safe. as always, when eivor was around you. you melted into her affections. she hummed in approval as you softened and relaxed. your name left her lips warmly, making you look away from the scar on her cheek. interrupting thoughts of desiring to trace it.
and when she spoke, you could not believe your ears. surely, this was a dream?? you’re about to wake up and be left with an empty feeling in your chest that walked with longing alongside you for the rest of the day. you’ve had this dream before. eivor wanted you. her thumbs soothing your cheeks as she spoke is what made you realise that yes, this was actually real. because your dreams never got her touch right.
“…and as soon as your eyes met mine, the first time we met, i was yours. and i never want to not be”, eivor finished earnestly, her own heart beating frantically in anticipation of your reaction. she searched your dazed eyes for any sort of unspoken answer, worried you didn’t feel the same, and that she made a fool of herself. the longer you took to answer, the more her hands loosened her grip on you. threatening to pull away completely. really, you were just in shock and struggling to form words. losing her warm touch and the dejected look in her eyes as she fully pulled away is what made you snap out of it.
words were failing you, and there’s no doubt in your mind anymore of eivor’s feelings so…you did what you always wanted to do. you gripped her face instead and smashed your lips to hers. a surprised noise escaped her. you smiled against her lips and chuckled. eivor wasted no time. with her heart soaring she pulled you in again. trapping your mouth with hers and deepening the kiss with a groan. it was messy and desperate. it was like eivor wanted to devour you. spit started to coat both of your lips, some reaching your chin. but you didn’t care, if you didn’t have to stop to breathe, you would’ve gone the whole night tasting her. you both breathed heavily, catching your breaths.
eivor’s eyes were fixed on your heaving chest. she almost forgot she was supposed to be breathing as she focused on the sight of your nipples poking through the thin fabric. how they pressed against it each time you inhaled. her arms snaked around your waist, bringing you even closer to her. pressing your body to her own. she couldn’t help herself. she placed open mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck and revelled in the sweet noises you gave her.
it was all too much, her hot mouth on you, her hands gliding across your body and squeezing your flesh almost roughly. possesively. it was all going straight to your core, making you ache. your hips had a mind of their own. desperate for any sort of attention, you grinded against her. hoping she'll do something about it.
eivor smiled against your neck. she'd never seen you like this before. so desperate and mindless. she wanted to never forget it. and drag it out. she ignored your pleas, with a bit of difficulty and continued making her mark on your neck. by this point, your neck was decorated. they wouldn't be going anywhere, anytime soon. and eivor loved that.
you were growing frustrated. and even more wet. you pulled her head away from your neck suddenly and she made a noise of protest, but you shushed her.
"i don't think i properly rewarded you, did i?", you asked, gripping eivor’s chin. her eyes were clouded, and you could easily imagine the thoughts swimming in her mind. eivor shook her head.
you sat back down on your throne. "well, come get it then"
the second you spread your legs, eivor was already on her knees. pushing your legs up, holding them by the backs of your thighs and shoving her face into your dripping pussy. you gasped in relief. finally, finally after so long of wanting her, you had her. and she had you. eivor groaned into your folds as she lapped up your wetness and dipped her warm tongue teasingly into your aching entrance. making you arch into her with a whine.
eivor couldn't believe it. she always imagined what it would be like to fuck you. the sounds you'd make, the pretty expressions she'd pull from you, how you'd taste. but in recent weeks, she was daydreaming about a whole lot more than just that. every time you'd smile at her made eivor think of how lovely it would be to have you at home waiting for her, ready to give her that smile that was always just for her, when she came back to you. it would make her a lot less reckless in her endeavours. it didn't take long for eivor to figure out her passionate feelings for you.
her hand trailed up your stomach and pulled down the front of your dress, revealing your tits to her. she grabbed one and kneaded it as she feasted on you. her black eye paint was still striking on her, even after having it on all day. it lasted proudly through the harsh rain that lashed the battlefield and eivor's sweat. now it smeared slightly on the sensitive skin of your thighs. you always loved when she wore it. feeling your heated gaze on her, eivor met your eyes from beneath your damp curls and winked. bitch. you cursed between whimpers as she added more fuel to the fire in your veins.
eivor was purposefully avoiding your clit, as she wanted to play with you for as long as she could. the wet sounds she was making between your thighs were obscene, and they were extra loud because of the echo. eivor shoved her tongue deeper within you, and tongue fucked you. you whined and gripped her hair, pulling her in closer. desperate for more. her nose bumped against your aching clit while you shifted and you gasped, and made an effort to tighten your thighs around her head. but she still had your legs in an iron grip. your knees were pressed up to your chest and you couldn't move much. you were completely at eivors mercy.
you could feel eivor smile at your struggle, it only spurred her on even more. she quickened her pace as you grew wetter around her. it dripped onto the throne beneath you, helped by eivor’s spit. abruptly, her tongue left you and you whipped your head back to her to protest. but your curses got caught in your throat and what escaped were moans of surprise and relief. eivor sucked greedily, her lips finally wrapped around your clit. it was heaven. you arched into the feeling, babbling a series of 'yes yes yes!'
eivors need for you only grew as your taste coated her tongue and your pretty sounds filled her ears. it was getting uncomfortable at this point, but she will wait. she wanted to see her noble queen fall apart. a thick finger tentatively prodded at your entrance, teasing it, beckoning you to give your permission to be destroyed. you nodded eagerly, already clenching around nothing at the thought. eivor gave one last intense suck before removing her mouth from you, making you shiver.
"i need to hear it, princess", she smirked up at you. half of her face was glistening in the firelight with your mess. she kept her mouth close to your pussy as she spoke lowly, the vibrations making you shiver again.
"please eivor", you whined, scooting closer to her.
eivor nipped at your soft skin and you gasped in surprise. she soothed the sting with a feathery kiss. she spoke against your burning flesh. "please what, lamb?"
she wanted you to spill filth. that much is clear. a hungry and dark glint in her eyes urged you to beg and use your pretty mouth to utter lewdness. heat rose to your cheeks.
"eivor please i-i need it"
she feigned disappointment. "need what?"
she constantly teased your hole as she spoke, and while she waited for you to speak. teasing you like this, was really doing something to her. she half hoped you dragged it out. but the other half, was growing needier and needier. her underwear was ruined by now. you swallowed. eivor found herself distracted by your heaving chest again in the warm light.
"n-need you to fuck my pussy p-please", you begged and arched towards her. "take what's y-yours"
take what's yours. a bolt of pleasure and want erupted in eivors belly and she groaned. shit. she shoved her face into your heat again and furiously resumed her onslaught on your clit. you moaned, throwing your head back. she rewarded you with a finger, slowly spreading your velvet walls. she started off at a languid pace to get you used to her. which was sweet and all, but you needed more.
"a-another"
eivor chuckled around your pulsing clit at your orders and you gripped her head, pulling her in even more.
"little lamb wants another", eivor muttered to herself smugly. fuck you loved the names she'd always give you. even more so when she was knuckle deep in your cunt. two more fingers joined the first, stretching you out deliciously.
"f-f-fuck", you groaned. you'd never been this full before. eivor had her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling, watching you suck her in greedily. she stood and leaned over your desperate form. your lips crashed into hers and she swallowed your moan after she curled her fingers in you.
"how does that feel, your majesty?", she whispered against your lips, holding your gaze intensely. you clenched around her thick fingers again at the title.
"really r-really good"
"oh yeah?", she deepened her lazy thrusts.
"y-yes!"
"any more royal requests, my lady?"
you met her wanton stare. "faster wolfkissed"
it was instant. her gentle strokes were replaced by rough, animalistic thrusts that pounded your aching pussy relentlessly. eivor grunted into your sweaty neck with the effort. relishing in your delicate whimpers and the way your breath hitched every time her calloused fingers hit that spot. once she found it, she abused it.
you fisted the furs on her shoulder for dear life while eivor kissed and bit the sensitive skin of your shoulder. intent on marking that side too. after tonight, she wanted no doubt in anyone's mind that you were hers. all hers. especially to your future royal suitors. it wouldn't take long for news of a young, unmarried queen to make its rounds across other kingdoms. oh, she couldn't wait to see their faces when she would treat you like her wife right in front of them. one day, that will be true.
eivor was satisfied by the state of your neck and moved further down your chest while you continued to squeeze her sopping fingers. your juices had pooled under you on the throne and some dripped down eivor's wrist, which flew off onto the floor at her rough plowing. she latched on to your nipple and twirled and sucked around your peak. you hummed in bliss and pushed her head further into you. the coil in you was starting to tighten more and more, it wouldn't be long before you spilled all over your drengr's fingers.
your stomach tensed and relaxed with eivors thrusts, and your legs started doing the same. you wrapped your arms around her broad shoulders, holding her tight as you gasped into her neck. adorable, eivor thought as she trailed her free hand beneath your nightdress and brushed her thumb affectionately against the skin of your hip. just like she had done with your cheeks earlier.
"e-eivor"
"mmm?", she answered, still toying with your breast.
"i'm close"
eivor wetly removed her mouth from your nipple and rested her forehead against yours. she kept up her pace, wanting to rip it out of you. all over your throne. "really, your majesty? right here?"
squelching echoed back to you from the corners of the throne room and you clenched at eivor’s teasing. "right here on your throne? right where you'll sit addressing nobles, your people? where a viking made their queen cum?"
you cursed, shutting your eyes in embarrassment and renewed arousal. you shouldn't like that idea as much as you did. some locals and those outside your kingdom would have your head for having relations with a raider. you creamed a white ring around the knuckles of your raider as she continued to finger fuck you, hell bent on making her teasing come true.
"y-yes!"
"how filthy of you, your majesty", eivor smirked, loving every single bit of this. "wonder what they'd think of their queen being such a whore"
"just y-yours"
"that's right lamb, all mine", she emphasised with a particularly deep thrust that made you keen against her. and she kept doing it. words left you as she focused on that one spot within your soaked walls. her fingers laying claim to it.
"come on sweet thing, give it to me"
and like the good girl you are, you did. you gasped as bliss crashed your senses, your legs tensed and jerked as eivor fucked you through it. she watched in awe as deep pleasure took you, having you make the cutest face. she slowed her thrusts and shushed you, bringing you down gently. kissing all over your warm face. murmuring praise. not that you heard much, it was like your ears had been stuffed. so you only caught snippets of her affections.
"...so good for me"
"beautiful"
she carefully took her coated fingers out of you. you pouted at the empty feeling and eivor only chuckled down at you, before thoroughly and obnoxiously cleaning them off with her tongue. you rolled eyes half heartedly at her teasing display. eivor smiled mischievously and caught your lips in a passionate kiss that threatened to take your breath away. her strong arms snaked under you and picked you up, holding you tightly so you didn't slide down.
