#I just want them to be soft and tender with each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 20 hours

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↳ Index [Chapter 04 - Woods]

Focus on Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, i have no words to describe how much this chapter makes me cry in a romantic way, they love each other so much!!!, it's insane how much they love each other, a cute date by a forest lake, Yoongi is also very hot because he cuts wood with an axe in a tanktop🥵, sorry i have a thing for people cutting wood don't ask any further questions thank you, skinny tipping, Yoongi being a cuddly cutie, he teaches her a few magic tricks, serious talks about family but make it romantic, have i already mentioned that they're soulmates who LOVE each other??

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: i don't wanna talk, i just wanna cry

Jungkook isn’t spooning you anymore the next morning. You stretch, yawning loudly. Today will be a good day. You can feel it in your heart. You sit up and look around the room. His clothes are missing, which means he already left for downstairs. You want to see if you can meet him or your other boys somewhere.

You throw your legs out of bed and stand up with a happy swing in your movements. You slip into your house shoes and leave for downstairs.

Taehyung and Yoongi are nowhere to be found and in the kitchen, only your grandparents are currently present. Your grandfather sits by the table, solving a crossword puzzle while your grandmother is in the midst of making cooking dough.

They turn their heads upon the sounds of you coming down the stairs.

“Oh look who is awake already”, your grandfather says.

“Good morning”, you greet them, hurrying to your grandmother to hug her tightly, “good morning, gram’ma”, you say into the crook of her shoulder.

“Good morning, my honeybee”, she answers you, caressing your lower arm with tenderness.

You give her a soft squeeze and let go of her for the sake of hugging your grandfather. He chuckles deeply, leaning into the hug. A crosswords puzzle is half finished in front of him.

“Good morning, my forest strider”, he says.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask them and straighten up.

“We did. Did you sleep well?” your grandmother asks.

“I did. I love my bed here. It’s so cozy.”

“That’s good to hear. Can you remember when you and grandpa built it?”

“Of course I do”, you say, sitting down next to your grandfather, “you did all the hard work and I helped you put the glue on. And then we asked grandma to join us for the staining. I really liked those days.”

“We liked them as well.”

“We really did”, your grandfather says and pats your arm, “my girl, we really loved it when you were with us.”

You smile, “I loved it as well.”

“Mhm, my girl”, your grandfather mumbles and looks into his crosswords. He will never change and painfully enough, when he went, the thing you missed most were his nicknames for you. It feels so good to hear them in his voice again. It’s reassuring to know that your memory of his voice was so accurate. It brings a little comfort to know that the heart will never forget. Just as it never forgets smells, sounds are right there beside them, keeping people alive.

“Did you perhaps see where Jungkook went?” you ask no one in particular.

“Jungkook? No, he hasn’t been downstairs yet. But I already saw Yoongi. He helped me with the chickens this morning”, your grandfather says.

“This sounds like him. He really loves to help. His readiness to help everyone and anyone was such a big reason why I fell for him.”

“He is a very proper young man. And very knowledgeable as well. We talked about wood for quite some time. He knows a lot about woodworking.”

“He does. He made so much furniture for me already”, you say and nudge your grandfather’s arm, “sometimes we build it together. Like you and I did.”

Your grandfather nods his head and smiles to himself, “my girl, yes my girl.”

You shift your eyes to your grandmother. She is forming cookies with her fingers.

“Is he still in the garden?”

“He must be. He helped with the washing up and then spoke of going to the forest for firewood”, your grandmother says.

“Mhm, I see. I think I might look for him”, you say and stand up to walk to the fridge, “after breakfast that is.”

Your grandparents work in the garden once you come outside after washing up. You call to them.

“I’m gonna look for Yoongi now!”

“Okay, be careful!”

“Don’t go too close to the stream!”

“I will and I won’t!” you say and wave them goodbye. You turn, walking up the path in a happy skip.

You have crossed the corner and have the forest gate in your view, when someone calls your name above your head. You stop and lift your head.

Taehyung and Jungkook stand by the guest bedroom window and wave their hands at you excitedly. Taehyung is behind Jungkook, clearly back hugging him.

“Good morning, you two”, you call up, waving back at them.

“Good morning”, they say in unison.

“Where are you going with that picnic basket?” Jungkook asks.

You step closer to the window so you could talk easier. The climbing rose, crawling up the walls to their window, smells sweet.

“The forest. Yoongi went out for firewood and I want to find him and then have breakfast with him because I know he hasn’t eaten yet.”

“That sounds lovely. Have you been awake for long?” Taehyung asks.

“About an hour, I would say. I had breakfast with grams and paps. Did you just wake up?”

“Ten minutes ago. I think?” Taehyung says.

“Yes ten minutes ago. I’ve been awake for a while. You were sleeping so deeply so I didn’t wanna wake you. I went for a walk and then went to Tae for cuddles”, Jungkook says.

“Ah, that explains why you were suddenly gone”, you say fondly, “did you have a nice walk?”

“I did. The forest is so quiet in the morning.”

“It really is. You both look so handsome today.”

“Heh, thankies”, Jungkook says with a scrunch of his nose.

“You look beautiful as well, my darling.”

“Heh, thanks. Are you gonna do something today?”

“Perhaps. For now we are enjoying the morning scents”, Taehyung says and nuzzles his nose into Jungkook’s neck.

The latter leans into him, closing his eyes halfway.

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses.

They both catch them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip up the path.

“I thought the same.”

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?”

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.”

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same.

“That is something she would do.”

“Yeah right?”

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.”

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

The lovely scent of forest becomes stronger as you take the path you took countless times before. You pass the Rock and dodge the Branches. Yoongi doesn’t know these woods, so he must not have gone far and knowing your grandfather, he most definitely told him about his woodworking spot not far from here. He chops his firewood there and stacks it. You spent many afternoons by his side, watching him work or exploring the surrounding forest. Sometimes you returned with some sticks, stones and insects, asking him all sorts of questions about them. Your grandfather always took his time to answer you even if, sometimes, he had no idea himself. You know these days that some of his answers were made up lies because he couldn’t bring himself to let his granddaughter down. You still like his answers these days and even if you knew the real answer these days, the first thing your grandfather taught you will always be the most precious to you.

The firewood clearing is around six minutes from the cottage. You walk along the path and stop to look at plants. One time you stop for a small bird because it was trying to get an acorn open by hammering it against a stone and it was so adorable to watch that you had to take it in for a bit. The firewood clearing is only six minutes from the cottage, but it takes you twice as long to get there. You don’t mind the delay because it meant that you took time to see the beauty all around you. Something about these forests really reminds you how important it is to do that.

The sound of a person chopping wood is the first thing you hear. You were correct. Yoongi is on the clearing. You quicken your steps, feeling your heart flutter in excitement. Even your stomach tingles nervously. How silly of it, acting as if you still had to be nervous around him. Perhaps that is what makes it so exciting however. You still feel giddy at the aspect of seeing him, just as giddy as if he was your secret crush.

The clearing reveals itself once you walk past the stacks of firewood. A heap of unchopped firewood is to your left and to your right under the tall spruce pine, Yoongi is chopping wood. He is in a tanktop and jeans, having his grey flannel wrapped around his hips. He is sweating, frowning in concentration. The giddiness grows. Wow, you have the biggest crush on this man, it’s unbelievable.

“Yoongi”, you call for him.

He lowers the axe and turns his head. You wave at him, grinning so brightly that you can feel your cheek muscles work. He lifts his hand to wave back at you. You squeak a giggle and then run to him.

“Boongie, I saw a small bird and it was trying to get an acorn open, so it hit it against a rock over and over until it finally did it. And then I saw some ferns which had white spots on the leaves. They were so pretty, but I don’t know the name of them so I’ll have to look them up at home because maybe I wanna plant them along the forest borders”, you babble and then you have reached his side, greeting him with a kiss on the lips.

You pull back, studying his face, “how are you doing? You’re sweating. Did you sleep well? I didn’t even notice when you left. My grandparents told me that you helped them this morning. You are so cute. I brought you food. Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m so excited today that I can’t shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“I didn’t even notice”, he says sarcastically but fondly, straightening up, “you brought me food?”

“Mh-hm yeah”, you step back and lift the basket into your visions, “breakfast because knowing you, you are forgetting that you need to eat here.”

“Yeah, right. I actually forgot”, he says and touches his stomach, “shit, why did you gotta remind me? Now I’m hungry.”

“Noo, I’m sorry Boongie. But good thing is, I have food. I’ll set it up there”, you say and hurry to the spot. It is out of the way of potential fly away wood and next to some wild raspberry bushes, “I’ll tell you once I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah okay”, Yoongi says and lifts his axe. You stand still and watch him. Just this one time. You might have an unhealthy obsession with him chopping wood. There is something about his concentrated frown, his arms tensing and the nonchalant toss of the finished wood before he loads the log with a new one.

Yoongi lifts his eyes, meeting your mesmerized gaze. He rests his gloved hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“Don’t do that. You’re hot, okay?” you whine and turn your back to him to finally get the food ready.

Yoongi chuckles to himself, shaking his head in fond disbelief. He lays out the unchopped log and lifts the axe. He feels so much more motivated to work now that you were here. He glances at you. You have laid out the blanket by now, kneeling on it as you get breakfast ready for him. His heart races, his stomach flutters. He has the biggest crush on you, it’s insane. He looks away from you and tries to concentrate on chopping wood.

He manages to get through eight logs and then he hears your sweet voice call for him. He lowers the axe, looking at you. You are sitting on the picnic blanket with the food spread out in front of you. A big smile adorns your face, you are waving at him so excitedly that you are bouncing on the spot.

“Food’s ready.”

Yoongi nods his head in acknowledgement and leans the axe against the tree. He takes off his gloves, hanging them on the handle of the axe. Then he finally walks to you, feeling confident because you are basically eating him up with your eyes.

“That looks delicious”, he says, sitting down next to you, “what have you got for me?”

“I think you’ll like it. I’ve got some eggs and bacon and some sausages, but also veggies because you need the vitamins”, you explain, “and I’ve got coffee in a thermos. It’s the really strong one, the bitter one”, you say, “the disgusting one”, you tease to which Yoongi chuckles and leans in to peck your cheek.

“Thank you so much, my princess”, he says, “I can’t wait to dig in.”

“Yeah, dig in. Eat all of it. I already had breakfast with grams and paps.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “when did you wake up today?”

“A little after sunrise I guess? I didn’t check the time”, Yoongi says and begins eating, “mhm that’s really good. I like it.”

“Yeah do?”

“I do”, Yoongi says and gives you a toothless smile.

You retort it with a scrunch of your nose and a little giggle, leaning closer instinctively as your giddy eyes race over his face. Even your shoulders lifted to your ears because you were so, so giddy. Truly, you couldn’t even deny that you were utterly in love with this man. It is so obvious.

“Eat as much as you want. I made it just for you.”

“I will, thank you love”, Yoongi says and takes a big bite.

“And?” you ask him with widened eyes.

He glances at them, then his food. He nods his head, “it’s good.”

“Thank you, wow”, you melt giddily, “eat a lot, my love.”

“Mhm.”

You watch him take two bites and then you have to talk again.

“Kookie told me that you and Tae had a talk last night.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“I’m so happy”, you scrunch your nose giddily, “I love you both so much and it always made me sad to think that you didn’t get along.”

“It did?”

You nod your head, “it did. I didn’t want to say anything, because I know that you have a lot of history together and I didn’t want to force anything. But I really have to confess that it makes me happy that you are trying to become friends.”

“Yeah”, he looks out at the lake, “I guess we had a lot to clear up. I didn’t wanna dislike him, but also couldn’t get myself not to. Last night helped a lot. I want to honestly try from now on.”

“That’s so good to hear, my love.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he hums and takes a few bites before he talks again, “did you see Kook and Taehyung?”

“Yeah, they’re still in the guestroom. Tae woke up a few minutes ago.”

“I see.”

“Why?”

“No reason, just checking up”, Yoongi says and looks out at the lake. He sighs contently, chewing on his food with slightly squinted eyes. He genuinely really likes it. You are an amazing cook and the fact that he was already starving, makes it taste even better.

Yoongi enjoys the food to even the last little crumb and he drinks his coffee to even the last little drop. He gets back to his feet afterwards, walking back to the chopping area.

You chuckle. Yoongi looks over his shoulder.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just funny how you just ate in silence only to stand up and walk away without a word”, you say, “it’s funny.”

“Sorry”, Yoongi says and returns to kneel down and kiss your cheek, “I’m not a big talker”, a kiss to your other cheek, “sometimes I forget I gotta talk to other people.”

“It’s okay, I get it. You did like it, didn’t you?”

“I did. It was really good”, he kisses your lips, “thank you for cooking.”

“Mhm Yoongs”, you whisper, pulling him in for another kiss by tangling your hands in his hair. He follows with a chuckle and his teeth nibbling on your lower lip teasingly.

“You’re lovely”, he whispers.

“I am?”

“Mhm, the loveliest”, he breathes and places a kiss to your jawline, “can I chop more wood now, mhm?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah, but only if I can read and sneak glances at you.”

He chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear, “that can be arranged, yeah.”

He makes you laugh. Yoongi smiles and gets to his feet, finally returning to chopping wood. He glances at you for a while. You get a book from the picnic basket and lie down on your tummy with your head facing him. You are propped up on your elbows, meeting his eyes. You smile, he retorts it. The eye contact breaks because Yoongi turned his back to you to get back into his gear.

This is the perfect day to you. You made Yoongi happy with food, can relax with a good book and watch him chop wood. Truly, there is no better way to spend a day.

Yoongi returns to the blanket once the entire pile of wood has been chopped. A few hours passed already and you have already read two thirds of the book. You are on your back by now, lost in the story fully until you hear him sit down with a loud sigh.

You lower the book, scanning your eyes over his body. His hair is soaked in sweat, it is soaking his tanktop as well, covering his arms and neck. His cheeks are flushed, carrying a layer of sweat as well. He is leaning back on his arms. His muscles are tense from the hard work. He gives you a sweet smile.

“You look hot.”

“I am. Fuck, I’m dying it’s so hot.”

“Here, drink something”, you say, offering him a bottle of water.

He accepts it, drinking it in one go. He finishes with a loud sigh and a content nod.

“That was needed, thanks.”

“Of course”, you say and scan your eyes over his body, “you’re also really hot, just saying.”

“Tch”, he scoffs, chuckling fondly, “of course you’d say that.”

“Can I touch your arms? Just once? Please?”

“Sure”, he is grinning, flexing it for you.

“Wow, so hard”, you murmur and squeeze his arm, “and so sweaty, it’s really sexy.”

“You’re being horny.”

“No, I’m not. I’m appreciative”, you defend yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can appreciate you being sweaty after hard work without being horny.”

“Mhm, sure you can.”

You nudge his arm, “meanie.”

He laughs and lies down on the blanket. He closes his eyes halfway, running them over your face obsessively. His hand he lets trail over your knee mindlessly. His touch is hot in temperature and just a little rough because the woodworking roughed up his skin even through the gloves.

“I like this”, he says.

“You do?”

He nods his head, “you’re the perfect fucking company.”

“I am?”

He hums a yes, lifting his brows in agreement.

You snicker, scrunching your nose. He makes your heart flutter like crazy.

“Did you like the book?”

“Yeah, I did. It took me a while to get lost in it, but once I did, I forgot everything around me.”

“I noticed.”

“You looked at me?”

“Too many times. Fuck princess, you gave me a hard time staying focused.”

“Yoongi”, you gasp, nudging his chest, “since when do you talk like this?”

He laughs, “I don’t know. Fuck”, he covers his eyes with his own arm, “I’m cringing at myself. That was so cheesy.”

“No, don’t cringe please. Continue. I like it so much.”

His laugh dies down, but his smile remains, “mhm, fine.”

“Good”, you say and peck his lips. He kisses you back with a hum, sitting up when you break the kiss way too soon. The answer as to why is revealed to him instantly in the form of your naked back as you pull your dress over your head.

“What are you doing, oh my god”, Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes before turning his head away quickly.

You glance over your shoulder. He is actively looking at the blanket. He is such a gentleman, you wouldn’t even have minded if he looked.

“Undressing.”

“I can see that. Why?” he asks and goes even further by cover his eyes with his hands.

“I can hardly go into the water in my clothes. Can I?”

“The water?”

“Yeah, the lake. I wanna take a swim. I can’t do that with a dress on, can I?”

“I guess. Warn me next time, geez.”

You chuckle, “you’re so stiff sometimes. I wouldn’t even mind if you looked”, you say and tease him by throwing your dress over his head.

You hear him gasp under it and then watch his head snap up as he looks around with the fabric on his face.

“Very funny”, he says.

You snicker, “it is”, you tease, dropping your panties on his head next.

You coincidentally time it with Yoongi taking off your dress, resulting in the panties to kind of land on his hand. He takes them off to check them out, blushing vividly once he realises what he is holding.

“Fucking shit, princess”, he gasps, gawking up at you.

You merely give him a little giggle and then turn to run down the short path to the water. You jump into it with high-pitched squeaks, splashing it around you as best as possible.

“Oh my god this is cold”, you screech, sinking in deeper until the water reaches you under your neck. You laugh, twirling around a few times before you decide on looking at Yoongi instead. You grin at him, letting out a happy giggle.

He watched you, sitting with his back hunched comfortably and his head slightly tilted to the side. Your clothes are bundled neatly by his foot.

“It was so cold at first”, you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm yeah, but it’s not cold anymore. It’s nice, really refreshing”, you say and do one spin for good measures, “come join me”, you say afterwards, smiling even brighter.

Yoongi hesitates. Not because of you, but for two other reasons. One, the water is cold. Two, he would have to get naked in public. The second one is really holding him back.

“Come on, you’re gonna feel so much better afterwards.”

“What if someone sees us?”

“Nobody is gonna come here. Promise.”

“I don’t know”, he looks over his shoulder.

“Trust me. I’ve skinny dipped in this lake countless times. Nobody ever came here. Especially not in this realm.”

He looks back at you, touching the side of his neck. The boring, grumpy side of him really wants to deny you. The old Yoongi definitely would have. But Yoongi these days knows how much more fun his life feels when he says yes to your ideas.

“Fine, but look away please.”

“I am”, you say, turning around. You lean back in the water and stretch out your legs, using your arms to stay afloat. Your toes peak out of the water this way, you wiggle them happily, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either why I’m doing it. This is so insane.”

“Yeah it is, but it’s also fun”, you say and sigh happily.

“Okay, I’m coming in, but don’t look.”

“Ooh Yoongi, I’m excited”, you giggle, splashing water to handle the happiness a little easier.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold. How the fuck did you get in so easily? Wah, it’s so cold, I hate it”, Yoongi is whining, but despite that you can hear his steps come closer and closer.

“It’s because I wasn’t taking my time. The longer you take, the colder it’ll feel.”

“No, it just hurts more when you do it fast. Fuck, it’s freezing”, he says, splashing the water.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting my chest wet, I’m not risking a heart attack.”

You laugh, throwing your head back, “it’s not that cold, doofus.”

“It is cold to me”, he throws back in a whine, now wetting his back as well.

You laugh, “okay, okay if you say so.”

Yoongi curses and whines as he enters the water, stopping once it reaches him a little above his hips.

“You can turn around.”

You do so instantly, swimming to him. You stand up once you reach his side, touching his waist.

“Hey there”, you say, scrunching your nose happily, “how are you doing?”

“My balls are fucking dying off.”

“You and your struggles with your balls”, you say in laughter, tugging him further into the water by the hips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When I’m taking a hot bath, you complain about getting them boiled, now you whine about losing them.”

“Hey, my balls are sensitive to temperature. Let me complain”, he throws back with a pout.

“I am, I am”, you say and snicker, “now come in here”, you add and tug him harshly.

He stumbles, falling into the water with such force that water splashes everywhere.

“No eek”, he is squeaking, “that wasn’t cool. Why did you do that?”

“Because, I wanted to do this”, you say and hug him. You wrap your legs around his waist under the water, hooking your arms behind his head.

He frowns at you, but his eyes carry fondness. His big hands support you under your butt, holding you safely as you and he cool off in the water.

“How are your balls doing?”

He snorts, laughs softly.

“Fine I guess”, he murmurs.

“So they didn’t fall off?”

“No. Fuck, this is so cold though”, he says and pulls you closer, “you’re warming my ass, understood?”

“Mhm, I can live with that”, you say and rest your chin on his shoulder. The water ends just on the tip of your chin, splashing up and down with Yoongi’s movements, “this is so nice. Seriously.”

“Mhm, it’s good”, he agrees, looking at the view. Your body feels really warm against his’, your skin really soft. He doesn’t feel the cold where you touch and on the places he does, it’s not uncomfortable anymore because your warmth is stronger than the cold of the water. He knew saying yes to you would pay off. He never did something like this before. Both skinny dipping and cuddling with someone under water. It’s new to him and it’s only as nice because he experiences it with you.

“Do you still feel hot?” you ask him.

“No.”

“See? The swim was a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess it was”, he says, giving your butt a little squeeze, “you’re still foul for pulling me in like that.”

“If I didn’t, we would still be standing”, you say, snickering when he bites your neck gently.

“Brat.”

The sounds of the forest are especially nice. The gentle gurgling of the water harmonises with the countless songs of birds and the faint rustling of leaves in the barely there breeze. You have view of the shore, the picnic and the woodworking space behind it. Yoongi has view of the distant mountains, the forest and the rest of the lake. The sunlight reflects in its surface. It isn’t as calm as it once was and he knows that it is because you and he disturbed it. It is beautiful to him because it makes the sunlight sparkle like hundreds of gems. He likes that his eyes don’t hurt when he looks at it. Yoongi pulls you closer to him and releases a deep sigh.

“Are you okay?” you ask him. Of course you do.

“Yeah, just breathed. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s so nice.”

You give him a gentle squeeze, smiling to yourself. You like how open with his feelings he is these days and that he is saying yes to your spontaneous ideas more than he says no. Of course you would have respected it if he denied you right now, but it is still so much more exciting to share this moment with him. It is so intimate and romantic without even having to try a lot. Just nature, skin on skin contact and a relaxing play of temperature.

“I think I just touched a frog with my foot. Ew yeah, it’s moving, princess help”, Yoongi says and suddenly you get shaken around as he begins flailing under the water.

You break away from him, laughing loudly. It echoes through the forest, joining Yoongi’s disgusted screeches.

“I hate it, princess it touched my toe that was so yucky”, he whines, “I think it’s still there. Princess, take it away please.”

“God you fucking baby, come here”, you laugh, pulling him close so you could pick him up.

“Yah let me down”, he whines, wiggling in your arms.

“No, the frogs. They’re coming for you”, you joke, laughing loudly when Yoongi sends you a look.

“Come on doofus, wanna swim further out?”

“Yeah, lets do it, come on”, he pushes you gently, “I don’t wanna touch frogs again.”

“You won’t”, you say, snickering. You turn so you are facing the lake and then swim off. Yoongi follows you, using only his arms to move forward.

“Can I still touch the ground? Can you check?” he asks, looking down nervously.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes”, he insists, “please”, he adds pleadingly.

“Okay, okay I’ll check”, you say and stretch your legs to the floor. Nothing touches you, “it’s safe.”

He extends his legs carefully. Nothing touches his feet. He sighs in relief.

“Good, thanks for checking.”

“Of course”, you snicker and continue to lead the way.

You and he swim next to each with some distance to give your limbs enough space to move.

The lake isn’t the biggest, so swimming to the middle of it should only take you a minute. If you were alone, you would manage in under a minute, but Yoongi seems to be a slow swimmer. You glance at him. A careful one as well. He looks nervous, sneaking glances at the water with furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you asking?”

“You look nervous.”

“It’s fine, I just don’t trust lakes.”

“It’s safe, don’t worry. I took countless swims in it when I was a child.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “nothing can touch my feet, right?”

“No. The lake’s deeper than you might think.”

“D-deep? How deep?” he gasps, widening his eyes.

“Like thirty meters? In the middle at least.”

“Thirty?!” he blurts out so loudly that his voice bounces off the trees, “are you serious?”

“Yeah, around that I would say. Don’t worry, nothing can touch your feet.”

“I guess”, he glances again, “that’s so fucking deep though. Do you know what’s down there?”

“Fish probably?”

“Big fish?”

“Maybe? I never dove down there, so I can’t say.”

“Okay, yeah that’s fine”, he says even if his eyes don’t mean it.

You and he reached the middle. You are floating in the water and while you are relaxed in your movements, Yoongi seems to kick the water almost nervously. He also keeps glancing down.

“Are you okay? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you scared of lakes?”

“No?” he very obviously lies, “I just don’t think it’s safe to be here. What if something bites our toes?”

You laugh, “nothing is gonna bite our toes.”

“You don’t know that. It’s way too deep”, he says and looks down at the darkness. He begins kicking the water harder, pulling a face of disgust. His arms begin flailing under the water as well.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t know about that. Princess, this isn’t safe. I’m telling you.”

“Yes it is, trust me”, you assure him, “did you guys never take a swim in lakes in the past?”

“We did, doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You chuckle, “the way you’re acting makes me think that you hate swimming.”

“I do, I hate swimming.”

“Wait. Really? Is there a reason for it?”

“I guess, I don’t know. I almost drowned as a child, I think it kinda manifested itself.”

“Woah, really? Holy moly Yoongi, this must have been so traumatic. Why didn’t you say so sooner? Should we leave?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m having fun “

“Are you sure? You look nervous.”

“I am nervous”, he says, “the water’s too deep.”

“Come on, we’ll swim back to the shore. It’s not as deep there”, you say, turning in the water to lead the way.

Yoongi follows you gladly, looking over his shoulder at the scary middle.

“It’s only around ten meters here and then gets gradually shallower. Good thing that I didn’t tell you that there’s kind of an underwater cliff in the middle which is why it’s so deep all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, very good thing you didn’t”, he says loudly, gawking at you with big eyes, “why would you tell me that? I’m literally gonna shit in the water, no joke.”

You laugh, “please warn me if you do, so I can flee.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “very funny.”

“Sorry”, you apologise and reach out to caress his arm, “is your fear strong? I bet it must be. Almost drowning is so scary.”

“It’s okay, I just wouldn’t go swimming on my own”, he says and looks out at the water, “it’s weird. Why did I remember this all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had already forgotten about that event, so why did I suddenly remember it?”

“Maybe it’s because our conversation just naturally went there.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he murmurs and drifts off. It is obvious in how his eyes space out and how he begins gnawing on his lower lip.

“Do you want to tell me more?” you ask in hopes of making it easier for him to talk.

“Sorry, I was just thinking”, he says and glances at you.

“It’s okay. I’m here to listen if you need it.”

His eyes soften. He swims closer and kisses your cheek. He stays close afterwards, studying your face. You and he stopped, now floating in the water. He isn’t kicking it nervously anymore, looking a lot safer here than he did in the middle of the lake.

“I had a brother. He was older than me and in the winters we always had snowball fights.”

“Really? Gosh, this sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, I guess it was fun. He was a bully. He always chased me around and rubbed snow into my face. I was smaller than him, so it was easy for him to pin me down.”

“Noo, I’m sorry”, you say and snicker, “that’s such an older brother thing to do.”

“Yeah it really is”, he agrees and smiles softly, “I just now remembered when I remembered it again. It was during the time we had the snowball fight in my memories. Up until this moment I had forgotten that I had a brother.”

“You did?”

He nods his head, “something about you makes me remember my human days. I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re happy with me and finally have a chance to think about other things than supernatural conflicts?” you start off confident but then get shy, “I hope, I don’t know, maybe you’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy”, he says, kissing your lips. He nudges your nose with his as he pulls back, giving you a warm eye smile, “my princess love.”

You smile shyly, wiggling in the water happily, “yay, I’m happy. I sounded so cocky at first.”

“No you didn’t. Take the credit. You make my life worthwhile as fuck”, he says, making you giggle.

He kisses your cheek, “would you be mad at me if I wanna leave though? I’m so cold.”

“No, we can leave. I’m getting a little chilly as well.”

So you and he begin your journey back to shore, swimming next to each other with enough distance not to accidentally kick the other underwater.

“Do you have siblings?” Yoongi asks.

“Right, we never even talked about that yet.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“No, I don’t have siblings, but I have a cousin who I grew up with very close. I still talk to him these days.”

“You do? What’s his name?”

“Eren. He’s two years older than me and lives in Sydney. That’s why we rarely see each other.”

“Eren is a nice name. Your family has pretty names for their children. I think your name is beautiful as well.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, my love. This just made my heart race.”

“Yeah well, it’s the truth”, he says matter of factly and continues, “so Eren, does he have family?”

“Yeah, a wife and two daughters. They were really busy in their early twenties”, you say and laugh.

Yoongi chuckles, “two daughters. That’s nice. If I had ever become a father, I would have loved to have daughters. Two of them, so they wouldn’t have been lonely.”

“Being a girl dad fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re gentle and warm hearted. Your daughters would have grown up with a safe father and definitely one who would have spoiled them way too much.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true”, he agrees in a chuckle, “and one who would have been way too scared for their safety. I probably would be the kinda dad that goes no it’s too dangerous to climb and then it’s something like a small stump.”

You laugh, “yeah that’s so true. You’d be way too overly careful and I’d have to tell you to calm down because they’ll be fine.”

Yoongi doesn’t laugh. Which makes you worry. You glanced at him. He is staring at you with widened eyes.

“What? I’m sorry, was that too mean?”

“You would have told me?”

“Yeah? Sorry, why was that wrong to say?”

“You”, he says.

“I don’t get it.”

He closes the distance and pulls you into his arms so he could kiss you. You gasp in surprise, finding no time to even close your eyes before he has already broken the kiss. He seems to be able to stand because he is currently carrying you in his arm, smiling up at you.

“Yeah, I’d have loved a family with you.”

“What?” you gasp, feeling your heart speed up unbearably.

“You didn’t even notice that you made yourself the mom of my hypothetical daughters did you?”

“Oh”, you hide away in his cheek, “oh god, I did that? Sorry, that’s so embarrassing.”

“No it’s not”, he assures you, turning his head so he could kiss the tip of your nose, “my love.”

“I guess I just really liked the thought of having daughters with you. You’d be such a good dad. Way too cautious, but I love that about you as well.”

“Mhm, you’d be the best mom as well. You dedicate your all when you love, so our daughters would have been so loved. And they’d have probably inherited our magic, so we could have taught them together. We could have taught them how to care for nature and how to use their magic for good and I’d have called you my three witch girls.”

“God Yoongi stop”, you snicker, “I don’t even wanna be pregnant, but when you talk like this Imma want you to knock me up”, you say and hide away in his neck.

He chuckles, “yeah, Imma want to knock you up too if we talk like this”, he confesses, bouncing you in his arm, “that is if my balls don’t fall off first. I love you, but I really gotta get outta that water now. My nipples might fall off too.”

“God, way to ruin the moment, you cold doofus”, you snicker, giving his neck a little bite as revenge.

“Mhm, yeah”, he agrees and begins walking. He carries you until you and he are out of the water far enough that your butts are exposed. Then he lets you slide down his body slowly, setting you down carefully.

“Do we even have towels?” he asks.

“Of course we do. I planned ahead”, you say, looking at the ground in order not to step on something sharp.

“Mhm, good.”

You bend down and open the basket, retreating two towels. You turn and hand Yoongi the bigger one. He thanks you and begins drying himself off. You do the same, having your back turned to him because you don’t want to show him how you dry between your legs. Yoongi doesn’t mind because he feels shy about it himself, wrapping the towel tightly around his shoulders once he is done.

You sit down on the blanket with a sigh. The towel is wrapped around your chest, keeping you covered that way. Yoongi sits down next to you, draping his arm behind your back. He steals a kiss from you, grinning at you afterwards.

“The swim was nice”, he says, lowering his head so he could trail kisses up and down your exposed shoulder. He incorporates little nose touches every now and then, lulling you into a state of comfortable tingles.

“Yeah, it was nice. It wasn’t too scary for you, was it?”

“No, except for the frog.”

You laugh, “right, the frog.”

He shudders, “it was rancid.”

“I can imagine”, you say and snicker, reaching up to play with his hair. You play around for a bit before finally scratching him behind his ear.

Yoongi’s instinct is to purr, but it comes out as a really deep, human sound of comfort. He chuckles, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“I wanted to purr.”

“Yeah, I know. I think it still sounded like one. You’re basically a cat in every life.”

“I guess I am”, he says and laughs softly, kissing your neck before sitting up, “fuck so stupid”, he murmurs, shaking his head fondly.

“No, it’s cute”, you say and lie down, looking up at the trees above your heads.

He keeps seated for now, looking at you.

“What are we gonna do now?” you ask him.

“I don’t know. Sit around and do nothing?” he suggests.

“I like this idea. We could sort the wood later.”

“Mhm okay”, Yoongi agrees and lifts his eyes to let them race over the view. The lake, the forest, the wood piles and even more forest.

“Did you sleep well today?” you ask him.

“I did. You?”

“Yeah me too.”

“Mhm, that’s good”, Yoongi hums and get on all fours, reaching for his clothes.

You glance at him, “what are you doing?”

“Getting dressed. Don’t look.”

“I won’t”, you promise and close your eyes. You feel no rush getting dressed, relaxing in the warm air as the faint sounds of Yoongi putting his clothes back on fill your ears.

Yoongi lets you know that you could look again by cradling your cheek and kissing your lips. You chuckle, opening your eyes. He is resting on his side, propped up on one elbow and with his arm draped around your chest. From what you can see, he put on his tanktop and jeans, but left the zipper open. It’s a sexy look because somehow the tanktop has slipped up his stomach far enough that you get glimpses of his happy trail.

You meet his eyes. The adoration is so obvious in them.

“What if we make it reality?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we have a family?”

You widen your eyes in surprise, holding your breath.

“We’ll buy a house somewhere, just big enough for four and with a big garden all around it. We’ll fill it with plants and flowers and we’ll renovate the house until it’s perfect”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah and then I’ll take the cure. I’ll become human again and I can give you children. What do you say?”

“Yoongi this is��this is a really big conversation to have right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. First we gotta teach you control and then try to make the cure work. We still have other things to worry about.”

“We can have this conversation again, you know? I just don’t have a good enough answer yet.”

“I know. I understand, I really do. I just got lost in my daydreaming.”

“That’s okay. I liked this daydream as well. Especially the part with the little house with the garden.”

“Yeah, I guess. Yeah.”

You sit up, “talk to me, my love”, you say, caressing his thigh gently.

He hesitates for a moment, but gives in when you kiss his shoulder, resting your cheek against it afterwards.

“Am I stealing you of something you really want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want children?”

“Oh.”

“Sorry”, he breaks eye contact, “I know this is another big fucking question to ask. I was just, I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid. Forget it.”

“No, tell me. It’s okay. I think a couple should have this conversation at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he gnaws on his lower lip for a while, then speaks again, “I feel like I’m stealing you of something ‘cause I can’t give you children. You know?”

You shake your head, “I don’t feel this way. I never really dreamt of being pregnant, so I don’t think that I’m missing out on anything.”

“I just don’t want you to be unhappy with me. I can’t give you children with my cursed body, it’s so fucking infuriating.”

“Hey, my love”, you gasp, cupping his cheek to turn his head to you, “don’t talk like this again. I thought you didn’t want to take the cure anymore. Where is all this mortality talk coming from again?”

“I don’t know”, he whispers, looking helpless.

“Is the cure still important to you, my love? Honest answers only.”

“I don’t know”, he is shying away and so you give him his space.

“That’s okay. You know what? I’ll just get dressed real quick and if we still feel like talking afterwards, we can do that. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

You try not to rush because it gives both of you a chance to sort through your thoughts. You never dreamt of being pregnant. You also never wanted it. Perhaps you played with the thought of having children one day because you always loved the thought of taking care of someone, but you were also aware that “loving the thought of children” was not enough to make someone a good mother. You were “a thought” to your parents and it was you, innocent and needing of care like any child does, who carried the consequences of it. You never want a child to feel this way. And while you still liked the thought of children, you also knew that this wasn’t enough.

You fix the strap of your dress, looking at Yoongi. You are dressed. The conversation can continue or naturally die down. Both options are okay for you because you want both parties to be ready for it. You and Yoongi will have chances again if he doesn’t feel ready anymore.

“Do you still want to talk about it?” you ask him.

He touches the side of his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For panicking like this. I’m sorry, the talk in the water made my fucking thoughts race because you made yourself mother of my children and I got scared that I’m the reason you can’t have children one day. And, and that you’ll start to be unhappy and then you’ll start hating me because I’ll be the reason why you can’t have children.”

“No my love, you aren’t”, you assure him, “I told you that I don’t want to get pregnant and I really meant it. You don’t need to feel as if you’re stealing something from me. The one thing, I want most in life is to be with you.”

He smiles shyly, “I want this too”, he gazes at your lips, “like nothing else.”

“Me too, my love.”

He leans closer, “can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, you can.”

With your consent, he leans in. You meet him in the middle. He is the one to pull back first.

“I’m sorry I said that. With the cure, I mean. I panicked, sorry. Yeah.”

“It’s okay, really”, you assure him, “I’m not angry at you.”

“Yeah uhm, thank you for saying that”, he says and touches the side of his neck, “do you wanna see something?” he asks in hopes of changing the topic.

“Something?”

“Yeah. Uhm. Look.”

Yoongi scoots closer until your knees are almost touching. He props up one leg, resting his left arm over it. Then he lifts his right hand and snaps his fingers.

Petals fly from his fingertips. Small and wilting.

“Wait. One more chance, sorry I’m nervous”, he says.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous, you’re safe with me.”

Yoongi glances at you in shock. You give him a reassuring smile. He exhales deeply, shedding himself of so many burdens. He lowers his eyes to his hands and tries again, turning those petals into a small flower.

“Yoongi”, you gasp.

He offers it to you.

“For you.”

“For me?” you accept it with a happy squeak, “Yoongi, you just used magic. Oh my god, my love. Wow, this flower is so pretty.”

“I’m still really rusty. Three thousand years is a long time.”

“I think you did an amazing job. Look, I got a flower. This is so amazing”, you say and giggle, “you used actual magic, my love.”

“I know. How was it? Was I cool?”

“You were the coolest, wow my love.”

Yoongi smiles fondly, running his hand up and down your thigh. His eyes lower giddily, studying your face.

“I want to try the spell. What do I have to do?”

“Yeah? Wait, I’ll explain it to you.”

“Yes please, I’m so interested”, you say, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

“You see”, he begins, lifting his hand so you could see him move his fingers. Small pedals appear in the air above his hand, dancing around slowly with the movements of his fingers, “what I’m currently using is nature magic.”

“Nature magic.”

“Exactly. When we speak of magic, not every magic is the same. We draw power from different elements, objects or concepts and depending on where we draw from, the magic manifests itself differently.”

“I see. So dark magic draws power from darkness?”

“In a sense, but not really. Dark magic is everything which uses questionable power sources for its magic. Blood, pain, death. Those kind of things give you immense power, but the output will always be dark magic. You won’t really have healing results with these kind of power sources, you know?”

You nod your head, “it makes sense. If the source is bad, the result will be just as bad.”

“Exactly.”

“So nature magic is good?”

“Obviously it depends again on what you channel. Fire will be powerful but destructive. Plants will be weaker but nurturing.”

“I see. So it’s really whatever you channel will put its essence into the magic.”

“Exactly.”

“What did you channel normally?”

“My emotions, just like you”, he says and caresses your hand, “that’s why it’s important for witches like us to learn control because emotions can be a brittle thing. Immensely powerful, but also unpredictable.”

“Because we can naturally feel both good and bad emotions. That’s why I destroy things when I’m upset and brighten a room when I’m happy. Because different emotions create different magic.”

“Yes this is correct. Wow, good job princess. You’re such a fast leaner”, he praises, making you giggle.

“Yeah, thank you heh.”

He snaps his fingers, creating another flower, “with time and control, witches will be able to channel from whatever they choose. Some like to become experts in one particular field and ignore the rest, some never really settle and are acceptable in countless fields, while others concentrate on a few until they mastered them.”

“Is there a limit to how many types you can master?”

“Not really? But some sources are better left alone.”

“I know. I was just curious. I don’t ever want to channel stuff like pain or death.”

“Good. Please keep that in mind, princess. Those kinda sources poison you even if you’re careful. They even destroyed Nilrem in the end.”

“I know. I’m too scared to touch them. Believe me.”

“That’s my girl”, he pecks your cheek, “but to answer your question, in theory there is no limit to how many you can master. I think it’s a good idea to start off with fields that interest you, which benefit the kind of witch you want to be and which support each other. Plants and water for example. The moon and the stars is another favourite of many witches.”

“Wooah, you can channel the moon?”

“You can channel the moon, the stars, the sun and the planets. The moon works best however because of its already very strong influence on the planet.”

“That’s so amazing. I always loved the moon.”

“Yeah, the magic is very powerful and used for a lot of spells. Those spells are called night spells, because you perform them at night when the moon shines the brightest.”

“This is so interesting, wow”, you whisper, looking up at the sky, “so could you channel the sun right now? Because it’s day right now?”

Yoongi lifts his left hand. It begins glowing like a small sun would.

“Wow!” you gasp loudly, bouncing just once as excitement overtakes you.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” he asks just as the glow dies down again.

“That was so awesome, holy moly. Can I do that too?”

“One day, with lots of practice.”

“Wow, this is so cool”, you say and look at his right hand again. The flower petals are still dancing above his fingers, “so for this spell to work what did you channel?”

“Guess.”

“I would say plants because you created a flower.”

“Good job, that’s correct.”

You grin proudly.

“Are you proud of me?”

“Very”, he says and kisses your cheek.

You giggle happily, feeling so good about the compliment.

“What do I have to do to make the spell work?” you ask him.

“First you have to visualize the flower in your head. Then you have to tap into your magic and feel how it connects with the magical auras of the plants around you.”

“So everything has a magical aura?”

“Yes, some stronger than others, which is why they are more powerful sources.”

“I see. So I have to visualise and then feel.”

“Exactly and when you feel the aura, you have to keep that connection going and your magic will automatically draw from it.”

“Okay, okay. So I’m gonna do it now”, you say and close your eyes.

“Take your time. It’s difficult at first, so don’t worry if it still feels exhausting.”

You peel your eye open, glancing at him, “so it’ll get easier?”

“Of course it will. Once you’ve practiced a lot, drawing from your source will happen almost automatically. You’ll only really have to look for the connection with materials you’ve never used before.”

“Okay, okay I see”, you close your eye again, “I’m trying now.”

“Take your time.”

You don’t feel different at first. You are sitting on a blanket. Yoongi is with you. The sun is warm. The ground is hard. The water is cold, painting deep blues behind your lids.

“Huh?”

“You’re feeling the water, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Wow, it feels cold and never ending. It just flows and, and looks blue.”

“Good job, keep searching for more.”

The trees. Their aura looks like specks of green sunlight through a thick canopy. The sensation sways from side to side like trees sway in the wind.

“The trees sway.”

“Good job, you’re getting closer and closer.”

A mushroom. It’s magic flies like brown spores through the darkness. The scent of nourishing soil tickles your nose.

Suddenly a little jingle. Like that of the smallest of bells. The brown spores turn into white petals and the once muddy scent becomes floral.

“I think I’ve got it”, you say and sniffle, “wow, it smells so good.”

“Good job, you did it”, he praises, “now that you’ve tapped into the source, think of creating the flower with a snap of your finger and if you channelled your source correctly, it should appear just like it did with me.”

“Okay, okay so”, you say and snap your fingers, “hey! I did it!” you gasp and open your eyes, “oh…”

Dried, old petals lie in your palms.

“Oh no”, you say sag your shoulders in defeat. You pout at him.

“Hey you made petals, that’s already a start. Keep doing what you did, nobody’s perfect with the first try.”

“Okay, okay”, you say and furrow your brows in concentration. You even stick your tongue out, making a little sound of hard work.

Yoongi smiles fondly, gazing at your features with soft eyes. He thinks that you are adorable when you concentrated really hard.

You snap your fingers. Petals shoot into the air like confetti.

“Wait. Again.”

Another snap of your fingers. The smallest, most delicate of flowers appears.

“Look! Yoongi, look! A flower!”

You hold it up before his eyes, bouncing on the spot in excitement.

“Good job, you did it”, Yoongi praises.

“It’s so small though”, you pout, “I wanted it to be bigger.”

“You made a flower, that’s already the first step. Try again.”

“Okay”, you say and pull your face of concentration.

Yoongi is melting. His heart is racing like crazy. He tilts his head to the side and blinks his eyes at you slowly. Look at you. Just fucking look at you.

“Woah! Look!”

Yoongi shifts his head to your hand. You are holding a blue flower between your fingers.

“A flower”, you squeak, waving it excitedly, “Yoongi, I made a flower!”

“I can see that, good job princess”, he smiles with you, “it’s such a pretty flower too.”

“Yeah, right? And look, it’s blue. Like your favourite colour.”

He meets your eyes. They are glowing in happiness. His heart flutters.

“It’s for you”, you whisper, “can I put it in your hair?”

“Yeah”, he whispers, holding his breath as you lean closer to put the flower in his hair. He looks at your face with parted lips, feeling his heart almost give up in his chest.

You tug a strand of hair behind his ear as well, running the back of your hand down his cheek last.

“There we go, now you’re pretty.”

Your eyes meet. Yoongi is blushing. Even more than he does in the real world.

You giggle and steal a kiss, nudging him with your nose afterwards. Yoongi lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his nose against yours gently. He cups your cheek with his right hand and slides his left hand to the back of your head. He pushes you down onto the blanket for another kiss, knocking a sigh of his name out of you.

Here you are. Kissing instead of practicing magic. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms behind his head. This isn’t the worst situation to be in. As a matter of fact, it is the loveliest of lovely situations to find yourselves in. He is between your legs, he is so warm and soft and comfortably heavy. You can feel his tummy against yours, his middle melted with yours and his heart sync with yours. You and he are so perfectly one right now and it’s the best thing to be.

The kiss only breaks because humans need to breathe. How annoying indeed.

Yoongi caresses your cheek with the tip of his nose, having his eyes closed. You have your eyes closed as well, playing with his hair slowly. It feels so soft between your fingers. So, so soft.

“I’m happy”, he confesses in a barely there whisper.

“I’m happy too, my love.”

“I feel so young.”

You fix the position of your head and open your eyes so you could look at him, “you do? What does that mean?”

He lifts his head, looking at you as he talks. His thumbs caress your cheeks.

“I feel so human. I guess because I am, but this takes me back to my days as a magic student.”

“Yeah? Did you also lay under trees and practice magic?”

“I did, but not like this.”

“Not like this?”

“Not with the most beautiful woman by my side”, he rolls to his tummy and props himself up on his elbows, “not with the love of my life”, he adds and kisses your lips.

Your heart flutters like crazy and Yoongi’s does too. It flutters even more when you gaze at each other after the kiss.

“Were you ever in love as a human?” you ask him.

“Not like I am with you. I had a love affair with a girl from my village, but I didn’t love her like I love you.”

“Did you ever love someone like you love me?”

“Of course I didn’t”, he says as his eyes race between yours, “why are you asking that? Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“No, of course not, I was just wondering. Three thousand years is a really long time.”

“I didn’t feel like I deserved to love or to be loved in return, so I never really tried looking for it.”

“I see. I’m sorry you had to feel this way. I hope you know that you deserve love and that you always did.”

He lowers his eyes shyly, nodding his head slowly.

“Good”, you say and ruffle his hair gently, “maybe I can be glad that you decided to be a loner. Means I had a chance with you.”

He laughs. You laugh with him. The mood has been lifted again.

“I guess yeah”, he says, giving your cheek a little pinch.

You scrunch your nose, feeling really happy. You love when he laughs. He is so pretty doing it. You reach up and trace his cheek most tenderly. Yoongi studies your features shyly.

“I think you and I would have been lovers at school”, you say.

“What do you mean?”

“If I was born back then and we went to Nilrem’s school together, we would have been school sweethearts. I think we would have practiced spells together just like we do right now.”

Yoongi smiles and kisses your cheek.

“Yes, we’d have done that.”

“Who do you think would have fallen first?”

“Probably me”, Yoongi says, “I’m too weak for you”, he adds in a breathy laugh.

“No, Yoongi”, you get out, “you are so sweet. I thought you would say me because I’m a hopeless romantic, but this is so much sweeter. You really would have fallen first?”

“Yeah”, he says, gazing at your lips, “you’d probably have been annoyed by my daydreams and laziness.”

“You’re not lazy.”

“Back then I was. I hated studying.”

You laugh. Yoongi smiles.

“I still do.”

“And yet we met at uni.”

“Yeah, I hated every second of it.”

You laugh, “and yet you still went. I mean, I guess it was because of Alpha needing a babysitter.”

“Yeah seriously that’s the only reason I went. Stupid brats, they’re centuries old and decided to cosplay students. That’s the last thing I’d wanna be again.”

“But if they never did, we never would have met.”

“Right. That’s the only good thing coming out of it.”

“Can you imagine how that would have been? If you guys stayed at the estate and I just lived my life as a student? We would have only been twenty minutes apart and yet would have had no idea that we existed and how we could change each other’s lives.”

“Yeah…” he looks out at the lake. His eyes race from left to right as he is clearly thinking. His lips curl into a soft smile, “you have no idea what you did”, he speaks gently, “and how you changed me. Do you have an idea what you did? Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I spent three millennia looking for a cure to what I am just so I could die. Three millennia my dream was to die and I hated every day, month, year which passed where I was still alive. You make me grateful for every goddamn second I can spend on this earth.”

“I do?”

“You actually make me happy that I’m immortal because it means that I have all the fucking time in the world to love you and be with you.”

“Yoongi, my love”, you whisper, feeling so utterly overtaken by emotion.

“And I’m not saying this to be cheesy or, or romantic. I’m saying this because it’s the cold, hard truth. You make me wanna fucking live, ___”, he says with trembling emotion in his voice.

You choke down the tears threatening to spill, reaching over to hold his hand.

“I know”, you choke out, “but I can’t help to think it’s really romantic too”, you add in a breathy laugh.

Yoongi laughs just as breathily, “yeah.”

You and he spill tears. They’re not of bad nature and the soft laughs escaping you are proof enough.

“I’m happy you feel this way, my love”, you say quietly, caressing his hand.

“I’m happy too. Being happy is so, so…so”, he touches his own chest and laughs as he talks, “worthwhile. It’s so worthwhile.”

“It is. It’s so worthwhile.”

He closes the distance between you and him and hugs you. He rests his head on your shoulder and his arm around your waist.

“I think that we’re gonna have a happy eternity”, he says.

“Yoongi, I love you”, you get out and hug him tightly, “shit, you got me crying again. Stop being so full of love. I can’t do this anymore.”

He chuckles, swaying you softly.

“I can’t help it. I want to be soft and full of love.”

“And you are. Oh, you are so full of love. My softest love.”

“I like this, yeah”, he says and giggles happily as he hugs you to him.

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starboy-sirius · 16 hours

Text

may 4 | cease | @jegulus-microfic | 1057 words

“Stop,” Regulus begs, pushing James away. “Please just stop.”

James stares at him with heartbroken eyes, his face crumpled as he attempts to grab Regulus’ shaking hands. They’re in the Astronomy Tower, the night sky dark and thunderous, threatening a storm it’s waiting to unleash. The moon shines down on them and Regulus can’t help but realise the irony of losing James when the sun isn’t shining, but he doesn’t know when else he’s meant to do this.

They’ve been meeting in the tower for the past few months and at first it was fun, the two of them snarking and bickering with each other until slowly it became more physical, a push here and a jab there. Until one day James pulled. He pulled Regulus into him, his back against the bannister in the tower and pressed his lips to Regulus’ passionately. Regulus had just called him some ungodly name and James couldn’t take it anymore.

Soon the tower became a place where they not only argued but also just talked. About everything and everyone. Without realising it they had become each other’s safe space and the kisses soon turned tender and soft, and the fucking transitioned into something with a little more meaning. Regulus didn’t dive off straight away and actually allowed James to wrap his arms tightly around his middle, pulling him back into his embrace.

But that was then and this is now.

Now, Regulus is staring at James imploringly, eyes shining with tears not yet fallen and James wants to scoop him up and kiss his pain away, only Regulus won’t let him come near him. James doesn’t understand. “Regulus? What happened?”

Regulus lets out a bitter laugh, wet and humourless. “What happened? Did you get concussed whilst kissing that Prewett twin or are you just an imbecile?”

James feels as though he’s been slapped and staggers backwards, because he had kissed Gideon. Or rather, Gideon kissed him and James had spluttered and pulled away so quickly that he’d almost torn a muscle in his neck. It happened just now at the Gryffindor party, one that Regulus didn’t want to go to, preferring to be in the Astronomy Tower watching the stars. James, apologising to Gideon profusely about not being available, had rushed to get the map and find Regulus, opting to spend the rest of the night with him.

Which is where he finds himself now, staring down a furious Regulus, his eyes rimmed with red. He had obviously decided to come to the party last minute and walked right in on the worst scene imaginable.

“Regulus, it’s not what it seems at all. Please let me explain,” James begs, his heart pounding its way up his throat.

Scoffing, Regulus sniffs and wipes his cheeks harshly. The sight of his tears makes James ache something fierce. He wishes he could reach out and comfort him but he knows Regulus isn’t going to allow that. Has this horrible sinking feeling that Regulus might not let him ever again.

“What is there to explain? You kissed him, and I’m the idiot because I actually thought that this meant something to you,” Regulus’ shoulders droop suddenly and he stops wiping his cheeks, it’s all in vain anyway because the tears won’t stop. “Like it meant something to me.”

“Regulus,” James breathes, taken aback by this impromptu confession.

They never spoke about what they were to each other, just that they enjoyed finding release in each other’s bodies and didn’t want to stop. The sneaking about was fun, or at least James had thought so until his heart wrangled its way into the mix and then he sort of just wanted to snog Regulus whenever and wherever. But he refrained because he knew that Regulus was scared. Scared of what Sirius would think, scared of it getting back to his parents. They’d spoken about it, lying on blankets in the tower as the sweat cooled on their bodies, and James had sworn that he would protect Regulus from everyone that wished to harm him.

Looking at him now, James thinks that the only person harming Regulus is him.

“Just go, James.”

“No,” James declares, stepping forward with determination, because Regulus basically just confessed to him and there is no way in hell that he’s going to leave here without telling him how he feels. Even if Regulus doesn’t want anything to do with him now. He has to do this.

So he starts speaking whilst Regulus is quiet. “Gideon kissed me. We were dancing, surrounded by everyone else, it wasn't just us, and he sort of just attached himself to me. I pulled away instantly, hurt my neck a bit doing it so fast, and told him that I wasn’t available. Then I came here to find you, and well, you know the rest.”

By the end of the speech he’s shyly rubbing at the nape of his neck, eyes intently focused on Regulus. The younger boy is looking at James warily, but somewhere deep in his eyes James can see that he wants to believe what he’s saying.

“You’re not available?” Regulus asks, voice small and vulnerable. But his eyes. Merlin, his beautiful grey eyes are shining with something James thinks looks like hope, and it’s what spurs him forward.

Regulus allows him to take his hands as he approaches and soon they’re standing with their faces close. It’s intimate and it’s all James wants for the rest of his life. “I’m not. You see, there’s this really prickly Slytherin who I’m a little bit in love with. Even when he’s insulting me I can’t help but adore him.”

“He sounds like a right tosser,” Regulus says and James laughs, feeling brighter as Regulus smiles at him.

“Hey!” James scolds jokingly. “That’s my lover you’re talking about.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, cheeks staining a pretty red. The younger boy’s face turns grave once more, though. “You better not be messing with me, Potter.”

“Never,” James swears, leaning down so that his nose brushes Regulus’.

“Good,” Regulus breathes. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

James surges to press his lips to Regulus’, heart pounding as he smiles into it. Nothing has ever felt sweeter than the press of Regulus’ lips to his, and he’s sure nothing will ever be as sweet as this moment.

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #jegulus microfic #marauders #starchaser #regulus x james #sunseeker #dead gay wizards #writing #microficmay2024 #the mauraders #the marauders fandom

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hype-blue-fixation · 23 hours

Text

RadioStatic Week Day 3 - Jealous/Posessive - "Your Laugh is Mine" (SFW ticklefic)

All day he'd kept his claws off the Radio Demon and let him go about his daily business. Forced to watch as the object of his obsession talked to other people. Conducted business with them, made small talk, cracked jokes. He hated how they made him laugh and smile. How those people gave him what he wanted. Vox knew he could do better.

And it was worst with the ladies. Alastor was far too kind to them. To the point it made Vox sick. The only time he even felt the smallest pang of guilt over these emotions is when the lady was Rosie. He respected the deep connection the two shared. But if it be anyone else, jealousy was sure to run rampant.

As the day went on, Vox became more fidgety. His body itchy. Everything in him wanted that furry deer back home and in his arms. Evening felt like it couldn't come soon enough. He was already daydreaming of all the things he wanted to do, making the wait all the more agonizing.

“I'm back!” the door clicked open and in came Alastor. Vox was already there, offering to takr his jacket and even unlace his shoes. Dinner was ready. Jazz music played on the radio. Whatever the deer wanted was only a whim away. “I think you love me too much.” Alastor cooed as he was lead to the dinner table.

“Nope. I love you just enough.” Vox held out a cooked human hand, humming in adoration as Alastor leaned forward to nibble each finger off. A playful look coming to his face.

“You love me so much you're even hand-feeding me!”

Vox snorted at the double meaning. Such a charming sense of humor. “Speaking of loving you so much…” his voice trailed off as he lost himself in Alastor's eyes. A small nibble at his own fingers shook him out of the daze with a frightened shout. As much as he loved the other, he was still a beast to be reckoned with. A unique, dangerous, and downright gorgeous beast.

The TV headed man offered more food. Smiling as it was gingerly eaten away. “I couldn't help but watch how you interacted with everyone today. They gave you what you wanted. Satisfied you. Made you smile. Laugh.”

“Mhm. What's your point?” Alastor smacked his lips, signaling he was done with dinner. Vox wiped the blood from his mouth, losing himself in those eyes again. They were always so expressive, and right now they were full of love and interest. Wondering what fantasies had been running through that dumb box head.

They went to bed, Alastor the first to settle down and get comfortable. Vox was right at his side. Wasting no time in getting his claws on that furry belly. Scratching at it and digging in possessively. “This soft little thing? It's mine.” His voice was strong. Not accepting any sort of argument. Whatever Alastor tried to say was silenced at the feeling of a tummy kiss.

Warmth focused on the mouth area of Vox’s screen as he planted kisses at the waist line. He gently pushed up Alastor's shirt as he trailed kisses up to his belly button. Then a blue tongue projected out of his screen to draw buzzy lines around the sensitive spot.

“Vox, darling. You don't have to–”

“I want to.” A firm grip came on his sides as warm kisses and electronic licks graced that fuzzy deer belly. Alastor couldn't help but fluster at the tender care. One hand rested on the back of Vox’s head while the other came up to his mouth to hide the noise that wanted to come out. A task that became harder when the hands on his sides began lightly scratching the soft body.

Alastor was now biting into his hand. Desperate attempts to hold back noise. Vox was quick to tug it away. “I want to hear you. Are you really going to let all those other people hear your beautiful voice and laughter all day then keep it hidden from me?”

“I suppose that is unfair of me, hmm?”

“It's criminal.” Vox blew a strange, vibrating form of a raspberry square on that belly button. Tickling his claws into the sensitive sides. A loud laugh echoed in response. “See, I bet that felt good, right?”

“It does feel good to let loose and laugh.”

“Good! Because all those laughs are mine, you hear? Every sound you make tonight will be mine.” Vox stared directly into Alastor's eyes as his claws scribbled around the belly button. Small giggles ensued. “Every little whine, laugh, breath, wheeze, beg, and whatever comes in-between is mine.”

“No it's not!” Alastor playfully teased.

The claw dipped into the center of that tummy with a small electric shock. That seemed to bring the radio demon back into his place with a storm of uncontrollable laughter.

“Yes. It. Is.”

#radiostatic week 2024 #sfw tickle community #ticklefic #lee!alastor #ler!vox #possessive #my writing

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zillasvilla · 2 days

Text

Beyond the lights

Warnings: Smut, Foul language, use of n-word, mentions of violence and sex-trafficking. Minors DNI.

Summary: Soraya deals with the negative press of an incoming court date while focusing on a new stage of her relationship with Joshua. Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC Word Count: 7.4k words

A/N: I had meant to post this a few days ago, however, family things happened the past few weeks, so enjoy the long chapter I finally figured out how to finish.

Disclaimer: All art: pictures, drawings, music, lyrics, and videos are credited to its original creators. Characters and plot lines created are this blog's creation. Do not repost or copy work on any media platform.

Pink : Translation Green: Negative Press/Wrong Sources. Orange: Accurate Source, positive press Blue: Flashback

Song Inspiration: Leave a message (skit) x Mary J. Blidge Incapable x Keyshia Cole

Current Time: 6:15 a.m.

Stillness lay heavy on the neighborhood, the neighbors being miles away from each other in the gated community. Warmth flooded the street as rays of fiery light shot the world through, ending the night. A mess of limbs tangled beneath the ruffled-ripped silk sheets. The rapid buzzing of phones, vibrating against the bed.

"Jey.” A hand reaches out pushing at his back; feeling his naked skin between her fingers, wanting the buzzing to stop as it becomes persistent. The vibrations continued, waking them both from their deep slumber, reaching blindly for their phones at opposite ends of the bed. It was the weekend and they wanted nothing more than to be lost in each other again, uninterrupted this time.

“Put it on, do not disturb.” He tells her, immediately silencing his phone from the world, and tossing it on the bed. She looks at him with a frown. “It’s just us this weekend.” He pulls her closer to him, rough but warm hands rubbing her back.

“Not our friends though. They know now.” She silences certain people on her phone, shifting to place her arms around his neck as he nuzzles her neck, pressing soft kisses to her collarbone. Humming in agreement, he pressed his tender wet lips up her neck.

Jey felt her toss the phone somewhere, probably next to his. Her body pressed closer to his with a soft sigh. The soft glow of the sun-kissed her deep brown hue. Her eyes closed letting him caress her body.

Pulling back he calls her name. “Soraya.” The evident sleep left in his already raspy voice deepened as he looked at her. The soft hm’s that left her plump lips weren’t enough for him. His large right hand gives her ass a slap. A sharp inhale of her breath at the sudden stinging pain.

“What.” She whines, melting into his hold as he massaged the area he hit, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, watching her face with a deep chuckle.

“Look at me, baby.” He coos, beard tickling her neck as he nips along the sensitive area. She stuck to him, unable to move from his assault on her flesh. His fingers knead into the flesh of her fat ass, pressing her down against his pelvis, The only barrier between them is the sheets.

Soraya flutters her eyes open to look at him, a soft gasp at the way he was looking at her, his deep brown eyes showing nothing but love and passion, her body shivers in pleasure, hearing him chuckle.

”good girl.” He captures her mouth on his own; biting the flesh of her lip, grinding his hips up into her. Their tongues meet in a frenzied dance inside each other's mouths. The once thin sheet now pooled at their feet. The cold breeze of his fan raised goosebumps on their skin.

A soft oh left her lips at the intrusion of his swollen tip, dripping with pre-cum. Her legs instinctively went on his hip, her heel digging in his back; his girth pushing past her slick folds with a groan.

“Fuck, baby.” He rubs his hands up her side, squeezing softly with every slow thrust of his hips, biting his lip at the feel of her warm walls around his dick. Her tiny moans in his ears, almost sure he heard her whisper his name several times.

”Jey..” She let out a string of needy pants, watching as she tilted her head back, body sensitive with every stroke he gave, curving slightly to tap at her sensitive spot. A soft squeak made him groan.

"Live with me,” He tells her, her head coming forward to look at him, his face soft as he slows his strokes, pulling out only till his tip remains, making her whine at the loss and teasing, as he repeated this. Their breaths blowing on each other, the sweetness of the mangoes they ate hours ago still lingering on their breath only adding to the feeling he was putting her through, completely taking over her pleasure. Soraya almost didn’t hear the question.

“M’want me to?” Her hands grabbed his that rested on her hips, letting him roll their bodies over, her back pressed into the plush bed. Jey’s fingers entwined with her own, pinning them by her head. He freed a hand to tap his leaking erection against her sensitive mound, smearing the juices all over the warm brown-colored tip.

"So I can get you like this every day..” He leans down with a brief kiss to her bruised lips. “Hell yeah.” Jey slowly rocks down, piercing his lip with a bite at her sucking him in. Her hips arching up into his torso. Her skin is warm against his own. She still doesn’t answer him, lost in the way he slowly slides inside her; feeling the visible veins along his hardened flesh, stretching her walls with a groan.

Her mouth was slightly open, struggling to get free of the grip he had on her wrists; wanting nothing more than to scratch her nails in his back. He halts his movements, a bratty whine leaving her mouth. “Josh.”

He groans at his name leaving her lips. He braces his hands by her head, her legs and arms instantly wrapping around him like a koala. His favorite position, it pushes him deeper with satisfied groans from them both. Once chest to chest, he rocks in her slowly, building the pleasure back up as he presses kisses to her chest, nipping at the round flesh of her breasts, sucking softly into her skin to leave his mark.

Soraya’s hands felt good on his head; mostly resting on the nape of his neck, where the short patch of curls finally grew out to the length she liked, matching the beard that was freshly trimmed as it rubbed against her soft skin. Her nails scratched along his scalp, earning soft groans.

“Kahaia” a gruff mention of her own middle name in the heat of pleasure; taking them back to the moment they first met at Trinity and Jimmy’s engagement party. Only he had ever called her by her native name. It sounded better coming from him. So hearing utter Kahania in the heat of the moment filled her with a hint of pride. His arms now wrap under and around her in a hug, pressing his weight on her. Jey’s head nudges into the space between her neck and shoulder, leaving open-mouth kisses along the blade. Their hips rocked in tandem as the world around them continued on. He only wanted to be around her today and this was the only way he was going to get it. “"gaoioi i le atamai ia te au." (Move in with me).

Soraya felt every thrust he was giving her, going teasingly slow to feel every inch of her walls, her face contorted in pleasure at each new sweet spot, mentally noting it for the next time they get like this. His lips kiss the space behind her ear, a snap of his hips making her gasp. "e te le'i mafaufau ea ia te a'u?" (moving in with me?) He asks her in a way where she can say yes or no, hoping she says yes.

She couldn’t deny that she would love waking up to him every morning just like this, then tangled up in each other's arms afterward; Soraya felt like they were moving too fast. She was scared to put herself in a vulnerable position to get hurt again. Yet, the way he made her feel with every hug and every sweet kiss on her face, constantly telling her she looked good made her feel truly loved. She was scared about the world’s reaction to her relationship, but she didn’t care anymore. Any reservations she had were kissed away by his lips on hers, his hips working a steady rhythm.

"Ioe tama lapoa.” (yes big papa) She doesn’t remember what happens after whispering the words against his lips. Just the imprint of a smile, the soft crow's wrinkles surrounding his eyes, falling deeper in love with her every minute, learning the ways to pleasure her mind and body.

The way she easily meshes with his vibe, as if she belonged here with him. Joshua did believe they were moving too fast. Her soft pleased moans, and squeezing walls, begging for more of him, repeating the word yes between a steady string of moans. Her hands were on his neck, her blue acrylic tips scratching his beard in between the hurried kisses. If this was his last chance to be with her he was taking full advantage and unspoken agreement between them. If they crashed and burned along the way then they were both to blame.

Joshua knew that would never happen. In too deep as they shared a passion-driven kiss; lips locking with a slow pump of his hips. His own stuttering release mixed with hers, dripping onto the sheets. A mix of their own sounds echoed through the room which was now masked in the scent of sex and sweat. He wasn't going to ask her again, he already knew her answer was yes, she just didn’t say it. He found her sudden shyness when in bed together cute, knowing only he could get her like this. He adjusts their position, resting her on his chest as he rests against the headboard, her tiny snores making him chuckle as he reaches for the remote to on the TV. Entertainment Weekly, with a new host, displaying a man’s name he was tired of hearing, only he was watching closely at the mention of Soraya’s name.

I’m Dina Taylors with Entertainment Weekly. In recent news, Damien “Dame” Davis, has been picked up on several RICO charges by the state of Georgia, New York, Florida, and California. What the Rico charges are, we will have more as the several states share any evidence found. The bulk of the evidence comes from Soraya Attui-Dudley and her team of attorneys.

The sudden movement of her body makes him look down. Soraya, using his own to adjust her position, head resting fully on his chest, arms tucking around him. The fluttering of her eyes puts a smile on his face. He feels the soft exhale of her sigh. His own hands rubbing up and down her back.

"Mornin’ sunshine.”

She mumbles a soft good morning, turning her head to look at the TV. The mention of her name gained her attention with a frown.

Soraya over the past few years has been silent when it comes to the nature of her relationship with Damien. However, the recent police reports suggest she wasn’t a willing participant in all of his endeavors outside of music. As of now, Damien is being held in Rikers Penitentiary, awaiting bond before his approaching trial.

“It’s over, yeah?” He asks, frowning at the multiple images of her face bruised, lined with white powder beneath her nose, and smeared all over her nostrils as if someone forced her to inhale the substance. Only ever seeing the surface of his abuse on her. “I mean, his life is pretty much over.”

"I wish.” she sits up in his lap, stretching her arm out as he watches. He wasn’t sure how she still looked so beautiful in the morning. Her hair is wild from last night, framing her sleep-ridden face. “I’m sure they’re going to call me to testify, for him to maybe get what? Life with the possibility of parole.”

He frowns when she gets up, taking the sheets with her, as she walks into the bathroom. “Better behind bars, than walking free.”

Soraya doesn’t care, using the bathroom to freshen up for the day. She bites her lips at the multiple bruises he left on her neck, debating on whether she wanted to cover them up or not.

Mercedez, the mother of Damien’s three-year-old daughter, has expressed her deep regrets and apologies towards Soraya. The apology comes in full force after the release of the police images from multiple stations, showing a beaten and battered Soraya.

Funny how, you think you got the man, and he turns out to be an abuser. It was only a matter of time before we saw his true colors.

She found herself digging through his closet, the majority of her clothes still at her place, she needed something in case they were to go out, whatever she had here, going in the washer. His closet is nothing but t-shirts, and sweats. Jeans here and there, his shorts somewhere in his dressers. She spots the black Niu TAT shirts, the black cotton shirt calling her name, knowing he probably had a pair of light blue shorts in his dresser.

Does anyone think there is any truth to these documents she’s putting out. These date back years before they broke up. Gotta think, maybe she wants another come up. The dude is a famous artist. Soraya is in a league of her own. She’s up there with some of the greats. It just sucks she had the wrong guy on her side.

All the blogs were talking about this and she wanted no part in Dame and his upcoming trial. Soraya did her part, and that was it. If she can and will avoid the frenzy of the newfound history of Dame’s past, then she was a fly on the wall. The door to the bathroom opened, the steam pouring out and dissolving into the cold air. The towel wrapped loosely around his waist, the water dripping from his hair and face onto the well-defined chest of her lover.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” A knowing smirk on his face as he readied himself for the day.

“Mhm, why when the real thing is in front of me.” She innocently looks up at him, a soft bite of her lip that always drives him crazy. The seductive bedroom eyes, made him wonder if he wanted to take her back to bed or not.

“Keep playing and we’ll never leave the house.” Jey finally notices her attire. His clothes are slightly too big on her, still looking better on her than him.

“Mhm, is that a threat?” Her lips pursed at the way he looked at her, a half smile on his face as he slid on the same shirt as her, only a different color.

“Nah.” He walks over to her, grabbing her hands to pull her up. “A promise.” He gives her a quick kiss on her lips. “Let’s go eat.”

We have received word that Damien Davis has posted bail. Our sources have spotted him leaving with what we perceive is his attorney and another mysterious woman.

New sources have revealed Damien Davis as a critical part of an ongoing sex-trafficking ring, along with being at the scene of a homicide the NYPD has been investigating since last year. Damien Davis is a dangerous and manipulative man, there’s no telling what he put Soraya through during their relationship— Welcome to 106 & Park, We’re your host AJ and Free.

The channel was changed from multiple news stations to a culture-centric music station. Her favorite hosts introduced the top ten music videos. Their late breakfast, resting on the coffee table in front of them. The remnants of eggs too small to pick up scattered across their plates. She wasted no time cleaning their dishes and the kitchen to rejoin him on the couch, mostly his lap as it was her favorite spot. His own arms cradled her into his chest, the outside had patted her thigh softly, mindlessly rubbing the bare with his fingertips. His attention was on the flat screen, but his mind drifted off to nowhere.

They sat like this a lot, just relishing in each other’s company. A comfortable silence as the room filled with nothing but their soft breathing syncing with each other. The quick kisses come soon, frantic touches, clothes soon discarding as they make time for another round, christening his couch for the first time. The world around a second thought as they got lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies once again.

A pleased sigh leaves her lips, his body a weighted blanket over her own, his head resting on her chest. Her fingers scratch his scalp, as grumbled groans leave his lips at the sensation.

“Are you sleeping?” She whispers. He shifts, lifting his head slightly to nod. Probably the best sleep he’s gotten in a while. She frowns, wanting to go get food, but loving the way he is turning into a big baby. His phone vibrated somewhere in the house, as it connected to his Bluetooth speakers. Jey doesn’t make a move to answer, letting it go straight to voicemail.

"If it's important they’ll leave a message.” He mumbles, arms briefly squeezing her, too comfortable to get up.

The ringing continued making him sigh and get up, briefs he put on after the intimate moment, clinging to him, the blue shorts hanging low on him as he pulled them up.

”Must be important.” She jokes, rolling over to grab whichever shirt fell on the floor, to partially dress herself.

“For sure.” He sighs, scrolling through the multiple text messages and notifications. Her own phone went off as she joined his side. The influx of incoming texts and calls overwhelmed her, with multiple people congratulating her on her latest album, and more people offering her support during the Dame crisis. The countless emails came in to collaborate on a song, asking her to write for them and produce the beat. “Gotta go back on the road soon.” He murmurs, finally putting his phone away.

“Back to business.” A defeated sigh, head laying on her arm. Deciding right now she wouldn’t be doing collaborations with anyone, until after her next album and possible tour.

“Moving in gotta wait huh?” He jokes, putting an arm around her. Her soft laughs, and her body turning inward into his side.

“Mhm, nope. While you were in the shower, called some movers to pack.” Still rooted in their standing position, her fingers lightly traced over the intricate details on his arms. A laser focus on the detailed insect on the inside of his right bicep, the muscle flexing with every touch of her fingers.

“I want one.” She whispers.

“Want what, a tattoo or a tribal tattoo?”

“Both.” She shrugs. “Been meanin’ to get one, I just could never decide what I wanted, or someone who could do it and it looks good.”

A knowing smile spreads across his face, picking up his phone. She watches as Jey sends someone a message. His hand slid down to pat her thigh. “Go change.”

”Mhm, what for?”

“You’ll see, just change into something comfortable.”

A confused frown on her face, she jogs upstairs, pulling out the freshly dried clothes, seeing what she had that was comfortable enough for whatever he had planned. The white cropped shirt, and green cargo shorts would have to do, rushing to get dressed and meet him downstairs.

Jey lets out an appreciative whistle, loving it when she wears shorts, the fabric barely stopping at her thighs, the perfect canvas for a slew of tattoos. He watched as she slipped on her shoes. “Where are you taking me?”

“You trust me?”

A slight tilt of her head at him while grabbing her phone made him chuckle. “Blindly.” If anything her past relationship should make her wary of him taking her anywhere, yet, the warm and inviting aura of Jey washed away all doubts.

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

A promise that was well-kept as he pulled his truck into the parking space in front of one of his favorite places. The bold white lettering of the shop name gained her attention. SACRED TATAU.

“Tattoo shop?” She questions, a little confused, but partially excited as it seemed to be a shop that focused on culture art. He gets out, coming around to open her door.

“The best in Florida.” He grabs her hand in his. Their fingers already know to lock with each other. The shop provided a homey feel as they entered. The decor is a warm dark color that instantly puts her mind at ease as he talks to a woman behind the front desk.

”Josh!.”

Soraya watches as another set of girls walk in, bright smiles on their faces as they greet him, his hold still on her hand, keeping her close.

“Sienna, Savannah.”

”Been a minute Uce.” Sienna tells him, finally looking next to him. The shock and excitement on her face let them know she knew who Soraya was.

“You’re Soraya!” Sienna tells her, completely starstruck at one of her favorite artists standing before her.

”In the flesh.” She jokes.

Sienna and Savannah were big fans of Soraya, but they made her feel like any other person coming through their dad's shop. They pulled her away from Jey, wanting to get to know her more while listing off the many songs they loved. He watches with a smile as the man of the hour graces them with their presence after getting his things set up.

“Uce.” The slapping of hands gains the girl's attention. Soraya watched as the pair talked, slowly getting up to join his side. The slight glance of recognition as he wrapped an arm around her back.

“Here for another one? You’re running out of space.” He jokes, earning a deep chuckle from Jey.

“Nah, for my girl this time.” He guides her up. “Mike, this is Soraya.” He notices the sudden shyness in her. “ Soraya. This is my tattoo artist Mike and the guy who will be doing your first tattoo.”

“Hey.” They shake hands, the warm grip, comforting her anxieties. His crow's eyes showed as he smiled. “How did you end up with this one, yeah?” He points at Jey with a smile, making her giggle at the way Jey kisses his teeth, with a smile.

“He just showed up on my doorstep.” She shrugs with a smile, looking at him as he shakes his head with a flushed smile. Grabbing his hand again, she comfortably stands at his side. “I like your shop.”

“Fa'afetai (thank you), Jey says you want to get a tattoo?” The bigger man is talking to her now, Jey disappearing after spotting a jar of cookies in the back, an older woman filling them with more of what looked like a batch fresh from the oven.

“I do.” She chews her lip. “I don't know what I want.” She wasn’t sure and didn’t want to regret it someday. “I want a butterfly. It’s my favorite insect.” She then thought of the one on Jey’s bicep. “Give me a second.”

Mike watches as she skips up to Jey, gaining her attention in an instant. The soft attentive gaze he gave her, made him smile. For as long as he knew Josh, he never talked about bringing home a woman for his family to meet. He always said he would just pop up one day and he was married.

“I want the butterfly that's on your bicep.” She tells Jey. One of her favorites he had inked on his body. Always finding herself in his arms, outlining the details of the large insect resting in the middle of his bicep. The most recent one he had Mike touch up and he couldn't lie and say it wasn’t his favorite either. The thought of having matching tattoos with Soraya was a distant idea for further in their relationship.

“Just the butterfly?” He asks, making sure this is really what she wants.

“I don’t know what else I want, I really like the one you have.”

Jey nods, looking behind her at Mike who was getting his cart set up. The TV being turned on was a bit of a distraction. “How about we put the butterfly on there, and let Mike do his thing with the rest?”

The first prick of the tattoo gun on her thigh was scary, but with the constant reassurance from Jey; the pain subsided. She was finding herself falling asleep on the table.

“Not you going to sleep and you were scared.” Jey chuckles, biting into another cookie, glancing at Mike doing the tattoo to her face. Soraya's head rested on her crossed arms, letting the buzzing sounds and constant vibrations on her skin lull her to sleep.

“Shut up,” she mutters, glancing at the cookie in his hand, then back at him with a soft hum. He lets her take a bite, looking down at his phone briefly.

Welcome to THE WHOLE STORY...I’m Anderson Cooper. The United States will be moving forward with its case against Damien Davis. There is substantial evidence that will be used against him. A good portion of that evidence links back to Soraya Aititui-Dudley. The pair had their own run-in with the law, per the multiple domestic violence reports in several counties across the county of Georgia. It’s too soon to say whether or not Soraya will be called to testify, as this is only the beginning stages of the tria--

The sudden change in channels gains her attention. She watches him flip through the many programs as comfortable silence washes over the shop.

“How did you two meet?” Mike asks, the gun in his hand carefully pressing the ink into her skin in an intricate pattern as he breaks the silence

The crowded home of Jimmy and Trinity was filled with nothing but their immediate families. For Trinity that included her Mom, uncle, and cousins. The large three-bedroom home houses a multitude of food and drink options, and a family DJ playing in the backyard. They had recently announced the pair were engaged, eliciting several whoops and hollers in congratulations. Soraya had found herself in a circle of Trinity’s work friends: Bianca, and Lina. They had made eye contact the entire night until he made the first move, stopping her as she came out of the house to refill her drink. “Josh.” He greets a small smile on his face, her soft brown eyes looking at him in interest. A soft hum leaves her lips looking him over. “Soraya.” They shake hands, neither one wanting to let go first at the warm grip heating her entire body, using this chance to pull her off to the side as they struck up a conversation oblivious to another person watching them.

“That was only the first time,” Jey grumbles remembering that same night, he learned of her relationship with Dame. The pair have been together since high school.

“So, you've known each other for a while?”

It was just never the right time for them to get together. Only ever seeing each other at events planned by Jimmy and Trinity. Their interactions are limited to social environments. Her previous relationship was at the forefront of her mind. “Yeah. We saw each other here and there. I was constantly on the road at the time, was away from everyone.” Soraya sighs, not wanting to relive the past anymore.

“Imma go get sum food, you hungry?” He directs to Soraya but also extends the offer to Mike and the girls. With everyone in agreement, Jey makes sure Soraya is good before heading out to get something for everyone.

“So what does Soraya the artist have planned next?” Mike asks, cleaning off excess ink with a paper towel.

“Another album and maybe a two-leg tour hopefully.” She’s scrolling through her phone at several emails about dates and venues. Unable to look at Mike as she was lying on her stomach so he could do the back of her leg.

“Exciting, I know Josh has a few international trips coming up, gonna travel with him?” Being the current World Heavy-Weight Champion he’s going to be defending his titles more and with his current feud with Finn Balor, he is leaving soon.

“No, but you just gave me an idea too.” She laughs. Soraya hadn’t thought about traveling with him, but seeing as their dates overlap, why not. She could see him in his element and him in hers.

“Glad to be of help.” He chuckles, incorporating the flower in her necklace into the design on her thigh, the details popping against her dark skin. He noticed the necklace the moment he saw her, a tradition he did with his own wife; getting the notion that she was Samoan as well, letting the culture design translate into her personal story.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why did you go ghost after exposing your ex? '' Sienna asked, earning a few slaps and shut-ups from her mom and sister. Soraya wasn’t offended or phased by the questions, knowing it was a well-warranted question.

“It's fine…It was mostly for my safety and sanity.” Which was the truth. Dame was known for being able to find her anytime she left him, especially with them being contractually bonded at the time. Finding the loophole in those contracts saved her life and career. “In the years that I’ve known him, I knew he wasn’t going to let me go easy.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” His mom tells her. “I had a friend in an abusive relationship. She sadly didn’t make it out alive, so it's happy to hear that some women do and live to bring awareness.” A comforting smile on her face towards Soraya.

“Josh wouldn’t be as happy as he is either,” Mike adds, realizing that Soraya was the woman he always talked about, telling him about the girl he wanted but couldn’t have because of a dangerous situation. “You’re all he ever talks about.” He’s slowly finishing up the tattoo.

“Yeah. Uce is in love” Savannah laughs, getting up to grab some cream off the shelf for her Dad.

Soraya bites her lip nervously as the family cooed over Josh and his love for her. The man is head over heels for her. The instant notification she got on her phone pulls her attention away.

Current Time: 7:30 p.m.

Mike wiped the last of the cream off her thigh with a paper towel. A good five hours after Josh retired with food from Zaxby’s giving both her and Mike a break. Jey helps her stand up guiding her to the mirror.

“That shit clean baby.” Both of them admired the garter-style tattoo, the matching butterfly sitting on top of her thigh, surrounding small detailed flowers, noticing they matched the style of her necklace, the intricate detailing of Samoan culture markings making up the band of the tattoo, incorporating her mother’s culture into the design. She instantly fell in love, knowing she would be coming back to get the flowers colored in.

“It’s perfect.” She turns and gives Mike a hug, his embrace feeling like she was hugging a giant teddy bear, returning the hug, he smiles.

“Thank you for trusting me with your first.” He was honored to give her something she loved. “Hopefully you’ll be back for more.”

She laughs. "Oh for sure." She watched Jey gather their things after hugging his wife and kids goodbye.

The two of them head out together. Her thigh was still sore, hissing at the sudden pressure from sitting in the passenger seat.

“Hurts huh baby?” He looks at her. She nods with a pout, adjusting her sitting position to not put pressure on the freshly-inked thigh.

“Yeah.” She responds, digging into his middle console for the blunt he had rolled earlier, knowing the little thing would ease some of the pain. The two ride in silence for a minute, the car filling with the strong scent of weed, getting them both high.

“What if we travel together for your tour.” Jey breaks the silence, stopping at the red light to look at his now relaxed girlfriend. “Schedule your concerts around my shows and events?”

“Mhm, I travel in style.” She reminds him. Jey never really cared to pay extra for first class or personal drivers; choosing to carpool with his peers, Soraya on the other hand relished in the added luxury. She was always on some private Jet, or tour bus, even going as far as to get a driver, wanting to limit a lot of crazy fan interactions, especially with the trial going on. For her, he would do anything.

“Then we travel in style, as long as you’re next to me.” The car moves again, a giddy smile on her face at the thought of traveling with him. Her fingers moved rapidly across her phone screen, sending her manager Naraya the go-ahead to plan the tour dates around his schedule.

“Oh, you planned this already?” Jey peeks over at her while laughing.

“Of course, I was going to do it regardless.” Her hand comes up to rest behind his neck, thumb rubbing into the skin behind his ear. “Wanna see you live'” she murmurs to herself, but the cocky smile on his face signals that he heard her. He decides not to tease her as he drives them home.

Why would she stay in such an abusive relationship? See me he would look worse than me You never know what you’re going to do in a situation like that. Do you think they’ll call her to testify against him? She’s weak. Supposed to be this big bad girl and she let a nigga smaller than her pimp and drug her out. I doubt she testifies, why should she if they have all the evidence they need. He’s a scapegoat for whoever he’s affiliated with. They’re feeding him in the woods. She’ll probably run away like last time. She’s nothing without him.

The incoming notifications of the blogs talking about her killed her, frustrating not only her but Jey as well, as some particular people he was no longer friends with sent him the blogs, stating she would kill his career as well. No matter how much she tried to shut down the rumors, it always found its way into her life. The two of them scowl at their phones, calling her relationship with Dame a publicity stunt for her. Twisting her words back on her, stating Dame didn’t deserve it and that he loved her even though he cheated on her and had a child with her. Something the public doesn’t know; thinking the child was born after she went ghost.

She wanted to respond but they would only twist her words once again, It seemed the only way she knew how was through music. A light goes off in her eyes, a small smirk on her face as she looks at Jey who is getting ready to remove his shoes.

“What?” He noticed the mischievous look on her face, confused at what she was planning in that head of hers.

“I can’t believe you dragged us into this shit.” Bianca sighs, carrying a black garment bag in her hands. “Especially in this dirty-ass abandoned warehouse.”

“Oh, hush.” Trinity hits her, carrying her own bag of hair materials, behind them the twins and Montez carrying video equipment. “We got you girl.”

Soraya smiles, sipping on a Red Bull to keep her awake. “Thanks guys, this was just a spur-of-the-moment idea.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the blogs talking about you again is it?” Bianca asks, setting down the bag of clothes on a nearby table. “Or that Dame is going to trial?” She hated being called out by the girls, they were always spot-on about what she thought. A defeated sigh leaves her side.

“This is the last time.” She was certain this would end what they thought about her and focused solely on Dame and how horrible he was. She tried to stay quiet about everything, but it seemed everyone was forcing her hand, demanding she speak about it. Trinity and Bianca groan.

“Girl, no matter what you do, they will still talk.” Bianca tells her honestly confused about why she was entertaining the blogs. Trinity on the other hand understood why she was. Why would she let them continue to drag her name?

“At the end of the day B, We gotta support her.” Trinity would rather end this conversation and support her cousin in whatever she thought was best.

“Forever gon support my girl.” B raises her hands in surrender. A couple of more people came in with their things as well, confusing not only the girls but the guys as well. “Who are they?’

“The host of The Bullet Club.” Soraya grins, a set of men walking towards him with a wide smile on their faces. Jey watches confused as the two dudes pull her into a hug. He slowly walks his way up to them.

“Hey, squirt.” The taller, older man hugged her tightly, swaying them side to side.

“Hi, Uncle Cliff.” She grins returning the embrace, an oh expression on everyone’s face. “Thanks for letting me do this.”

“Anything for my niece.” He pulls back; looking behind him at his crew setting up the multiple green screens and camera equipment. “Bout time you did a legit diss, that shameful shit was whack.”

She makes a face, spotting Jey at her side. “Not too much on Shameful, she got me through it all.”

Cliff raises his hands in defeat. “Do you baby girl. You know you say the word, "I got my guys on him.” She rolls her eyes, Her uncle stays wanting to put a cap on somebody, especially if someone messing with his family. She finally introduces them to her friends, mainly Jey. Who was protectively at her side. Cliff sizing him up inserts himself. “Joshua right?”

He nods, returning the same attitude. “Yeah.”

They stare each other down as Trinity pulls Soraya away from them to possibly do damage control. Bianca made her sit down as Trinity got her things out to do her hair. Soraya has to watch from a distance at her boyfriend and uncle having a stare-down, before they break into a union of laughter dapping each other up. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Girl, you didn’t tell me the Method Man was your uncle.” Bianca scolds almost, burning her head. “My bad.”

“That’s why and he's not by blood.” She’s touching up her makeup, adding some more details to her lips, smacking them together to evenly smear the gloss across them. “Just super close with my dad.”

“Shit, he's fine as hell.” Trinity sighs, putting an outfit together for her. “If I wasn’t married.”

“If you weren't what?”

Their conversations come to a halt as their boyfriends join them. Jey going to sit in front of Soraya, watching her doll herself up. “Nothing.” Trinity deflects, hugging Jimmy’s waist.

“Mhmm, Raya, you almost ready?” He asks, looking down at her. Bianca had finally finished her hair, letting her get up and grab the clothes Trinity picked for her.

“Yeah.” She walks up to Jey, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Going to get dressed.” He follows behind her, only to make sure no one walks in on her while she changes. She had wanted to talk to him as well; unsure of how he was feeling in all of this.

“You look good.” He tells her, holding the discarded pieces of fabric, loving the way the new outfit shaped her frame. A shy grin on her face as she walked up to his leaning body perched on the metal frame. Her arms wrap around his neck.

“Thank you.” She stands on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You okay?” He shrugs, looking down at her. A slow lick of his lips as he trailed his eyes from her face to her body pressed against his. “How do you feel about me doing this?”

“I’m here to support you.” He gives her another chaste kiss, biting her lip in the process. “Let this be the last time you talk about him though.” A tiny whimper leaves her mouth at the loss of his on her own. He was cool with Soraya doing what she had to. However, if this doesn’t kill the shit then she was fighting a lost cause.

“It’s overkill at this point Soraya. I’m not staying in this relationship if you’re going to continue entertaining the nigga. Make it count.”

The empty warehouse was now set up with multiple green screens and cameras, a single microphone in the center as she stood behind it, Her uncle and his host doing their intro from or their radio station introducing Soraya as the beat started. The buzzing notifications in her friend's phone came out as this was being aired live across all social media platforms.

The first line in her diss surprised everyone. “You might wanna watch your mouth, or watch your spouse. I’m that chick, I’ll make you want to slit your wrist. your nigga tryna kiss my pics.”

youtube

It wasn’t often Soraya sat down and truly dissed somebody, especially in freestyle while being recorded live for everyone to see at midnight. However, it was brought out of her and there was no turning back. As she continued, Jey wondered if this was her way of finally releasing any negative energy she was harboring over the situation. He had also wondered if she would do the same to him if they didn't work out. Regardless if it was mutual or night. He hated thinking that way.

“Let’s clear shit out, lately it's been empty as the head that wears the crown. Niggas who want a bitch whose only talent is to mentally be challenged....” The short pause between bars; a mix of approval ooo's in the background. “chemically imbalanced.”

Yet, just seeing her in her element, the way all stress left her body in her movements, he still had to wonder how their story would end. Trinity notices the distant look in her brother-in-law's eyes, the wheels turning in his head. She instantly knew what he was thinking. “She’s not going to do you like she’s doing him.” She tells him.

“Yeah?” He looked at Trinity and then back at his girl. “How do you know?”

“She wouldn’t have gotten matching tattoos with you.” Only Trinity and Jimmy had noticed the butterfly on her leg that was eerily similar to the one Jey had on his arm. It was hard not to miss the garter-style tattoo on her leg. Trinity also saw it as a sign of her being in love. Growing up Soraya had told everyone her first tattoo would be a matching one with her future boyfriend to signify her being truly in love. She kept that to herself for Jey to find out.

He takes the newfound information into account as he watches her, finally listening to the lyrics that she is spewing out.

“Nigga listen, I can’t really explain it, but, shit I’m famous so people gon draw the picture however they wanna paint it, ain’t it.” Her uncle is in the background running around with Montez, their actions warranted at the bar, sneaking a jab at the blogs telling false stories about her.

By this time, over a million people were turned in, constantly sharing their livestreams. What the people in the warehouse aren’t seeing on the green screen are multiple pictures of her and Dame, and how she started his career, providing proof that he was a narcissistic wanna-be rapper. Debunking all the claims that he put her on.

“I’m the reason why you great nigga, I’m the one who got you eating medium and steak nigga.” If she had a real audience they would be dead as she devoured the switch-up of the beats, in the background her phone was going off with messages and notifications of people trying to save face.

“I’m not the type to hit feet when I’m targeting chest, when I met a world peace put your art to the test and now went overheads.” She had been going on for two minutes now with no plans of stopping anytime soon. “This is something I have oversaid now it's just an overkill better yet it's over dead, over heads.”

Cliff had started to slow down the beat, signaling for her to stop at some point, but she still went in on the mic, rapping to no beat as she stared straight into the camera. “Zero effort, you have zero leverage. Text me on my phone and I’ll see at zero message.”

Soraya had released so much trauma into that freestyle, no longer caring about how she was going to be viewed, using this as a reference anytime someone brought up her past. Her focus now is on the man who loved her and showed it daily. She finally looked in his direction as they wrapped up. A silent conversation was being held between them from how they held each other’s gaze. Her feet moved toward his direction. The closer she gets, his arms open letting her wrap her arms around him, his own hugging her shoulders, with a gentle kiss to her temple.

“All good?”

Akhara’s Patrons: If you would like to be added, please comment on the master list. I will try to frequently update it as much as I can.

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aphroditelovesu · 2 days

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💗 🍁😰Yandere rose x clingy male reader

[💗] - ‘’I just want to love you until the day we both stop breathing.’’ [🍁] - ‘’Everything without you is so dull, lifeless and lonely. I will never let you go, because you are what color my life.’’ [😰] - ‘’If you leave me I will kill myself.’’

❝tw: mention of suicide.

You and Rosé were lying in your bed, in the room you shared in your house. Your arms were around her waist and her head was resting on your chest. Your fingers caressed your girlfriend's bare skin.

"I love you." Rosé murmured, tucking her head into your neck. You smiled. The soft light of the room enveloped the two of you, creating an intimate and peaceful moment.

"I love you too." You whispered back, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. Comfortable silence filled the space as you just enjoyed each other's presence.

Rosé smiled at your words and kissed your neck gently. She raised her head and stared into your eyes, her soft expression turning serious.

"You know if something happened to you I would go crazy, right?" She asked, looking at your face seriously. You stared at her hesitantly.

"I know." You said and brought your hand up to her face, stroking it, "I would go crazy too if something happened to you."

Rosé's eyes shone with tenderness at your words, as she gently pressed her hand against your face.

"Promise me that you will always take care of me, even when you are away from me." She asked in a soft but firm voice.

You nodded, feeling your chest tighten at the seriousness of the moment, "I promise." You said sincerely, sealing your words with a light kiss on her lips. The love between you was palpable, and this exchange of promises only strengthened it.

Rosé laughed happily and grabbed you tighter, squeezing you. You laughed at that. One thing that always worked between you was how affectionate and clingy you both were.

"Ah! Rosie, you're choking me." You commented, hugging her back tightly.

Rosé looked at you, "I just want to love you until the day we both stop breathing."

You felt a slight shiver at her words but decided to ignore it. You tilted her head and kissed her softly on the lips. Rosé kissed you with the same softness, as light as a feather and as sweet as her.

Rosé pressed her forehead against yours and looked straight into your eyes, "Everything without you is so dull, lifeless and lonely." Rosé whispered against your lips, "I will never let you go, because you are what color my life."

Her words wrapped around your body like a warm hug, making your heart beat with renewed intensity. Each syllable carried an emotional weight that reverberated within you, touching parts of your being that previously lay dormant. The love you felt for this woman, Rosé, was a burning flame that lit up every dark corner of your soul, flooding it with indescribable joy.

"I feel the same way." You said, kissing her mouth again but this time it was more passionate. Rosé reciprocated with the same passion and devotion.

The kiss was an explosion of contained passion, a fiery expression of the love that overflowed between the two of you. The lips met in a perfect fit, each movement filled with desire and surrender. Under the sweetness of the touch, the intensity grew, and soon the tongues met in a sensual touch, dancing in harmony as if they were an extension of each other.

Rosé climbed on top of you, her body molding to yours in a natural and familiar way. Your hands found her hips, holding her firmly but gently, as if you wanted to protect her and at the same time merge with her.

When you broke apart in need of air, Rosé whispered against your lips, "Never leave me."

You looked at her, your eyes shining with doubt. Rosé took this the wrong way, however. She pursed her lips and said, "If you leave me I will kill myself."

Rosé's words registered in your mind and you swallowed hard, unable to help but feel uncomfortable with the weight of them. But you wouldn't let her know that, you didn't want to hurt her, and besides, you didn't plan on leaving her.

You were too involved to even think about breaking up with her.

#yandere blackpink #yandere rosé #rosé x reader #yandere rosé x reader #male reader #x male reader #blackpink rosé #x reader #emoji prompt #emoji #blackpink imagine

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xsleepinggoodx · 2 days

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Heloooo! could you make some hcs on bonten? on mikey, ran, rin, sanzu, koko? separate? Thank youuu!

Hi queen I AM SO SORRY FOR DELAYING THIS! I had so much to do for school but here it is finally!!❤️Thank you so much for asking!

I love bonten sm like it really only had like at least 4 panels but damn it stole the whole show💀

I don’t know if you wanted me to have some nsfw or not so I just wrote fluff, if you want me to make an NSFW please let me know 🙏 I will have no problem with writing it.

Bonten X Reader

!She/her pronouns!

characters: Mikey, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, and Kokonoi

WARNINS: drug abuse, E.D., murder, slight suggestive (for Ran obvi) angst, (Mikey :( )

Slight NSFW for Sanzu

………………………………………………….…………………………..

MANJIRO SANO (Mikey)

- I see a lot of writers writing bonten mikey as like heartless and completely cruel, especially to reader. I feel like he’d be stoic in public with you but behind closed doors, he’s on your lap, completely tender and soft with you.

- If you and him knew each other before, he begged you not to come with him when he was leaving before Takemitchi time-skipped, he wanted you to just forget about him and pretend he didn’t exist. But you just couldn’t. You were all he had. He couldn’t let you go. He’d miss you too much.

-if you guys met when he’s already in bonten, at first he’d be cold to you, like he’d be to anyone. But little by little he’d warm up to you.

-You’d probably be an executive there so he’d have you as his advisor instead of Takeomi. As you get closer to him, he’d definitely replace Sanzu with you. (Lmao poor sanzu)

-I just can’t picture Mikey sleeping around that much. Like he’d have a couple of women he slept with but he would be emotionally detached from anyone, well until he met you.

- has you always next to him in meetings, if you are sitting at a table, he’d have his hand on your thigh or holding your hand, it comforts him.

-When bonten is murdering hostages and Sanzu is laughing maniacally shooting them, Mikey prefers you to not attend those times, he specifically asked you to stay back. He doesn’t want you seeing those moments. However if you are there, he’d ask you to at least talk to him to distract himself from all the violence going on.

-Kisses your cheek and does small gestures that really flutters your 💜 . Even if it’s subtle, he just always wants to feel your warmth.

- He really appreciates you and values you more than anything. He’d spend times with you and suddenly he’s 15 again, hanging out with his friends. It makes him feel bittersweet. But you’re always there to comfort him.

- I feel like he takes heavy drugs. He’d completely go berserk and mass murder anyone he sees due to his dark impulses so he’d definitely use it all in drugs, he’d truly try to stop if you ask him though. (Poor guy😭)

- The more you guys would spend time together, the more he grew attached to you. Trying so hard not to fall in love, only failing when he sees small things you do that make him feel…something. He hasn’t felt anything for a long time.

-He loves you more than anything. He’d be super protective of you and always be by your side, only asking the same for him, and you’d gladly do it.

………………………………………………………………………………

RAN HAITANI

- Ran is always, always flirting with you, trying to get a reaction from you, especially if you’re the stoic type.

- He’d purposely glide his hands on your waist if he’s walking behind you, try to trip you and play the hero prince charming and catch you. It will always end up with you huffing and sticking your cute nose in air and he finds it so adorable.

- before you guys are a thing, he slept with a lot of women. Some even call him a womanizer. He’s famous in the brothel they own for sleeping with all the women. But he has his eyes on someone else~

- Always asking you bizarre questions that are unrelated to any topics you were talking about prior, just to annoy you. If you actually answer he’d be surprised and ask more.

- You two along with Rindou do hostage murders together (I seriously don’t know what rich mafia people do so sorry😭) he’s always whistle when he sees you taking the lead and getting the job done.

- if you two are dating, he’d sometimes just push you against a wall in the rich hallways and make out with you or like discretely tease you buy touching your lower back trying to get past you or playing with your hair, anything to get a reaction from you.

- Behind all the flirting from Ran, he’s actually really sweet.

-If you’re really busy with Bonten paper work, and you haven’t eaten yet, he’ll immediately buy you lunch. He knows what you like, what you don’t, what to take out, etc. HE KNOWS IT ALL.

-He’s very observant himself and takes note of everything you talk about, say you were talking about a book you wanted to Koko or Rindou, he’d listen and he’d buy it. Presenting it to you a day later.

-He’s a hopeless romantic at heart so he’ll be very romantic with you. Loves so much, he’d didn’t even realize it until Rindou pointed it out.

- He’s so silly.

………………………………………………………………………………

RINDOU HAITANI

- Rindou is less flirtatious with you and more salty.

- I honestly imagine he has a similar personality as Tsukkishima from Haikyuu. He likes to mock and poke fun at you, his own way of getting reactions from you.

- Although under all this, he’s sweet and nice with you. He’d buy you things you didn’t even ask for, refusing to take it back.

-I honestly think that even though he’s rich-rich and you’d think he’d want a materialistic girlfriend, he actually prefers someone who’s more humble than he is. Someone who doesn’t care about that stuff. And that was really hard to find until he met you.

-He definitely has his fair share of experience ifykyk. But he doesn’t do that anymore now that he has you. He’s even willing to wait for you if you don’t want to do it yet.

-Very laid back, of. He has his mean moments with others but like Mikey he’s wrapped around your finger the more he gets to know you.

-he feels foolish from his own self when he hears you talking about your innocent, priceless dreams. He thinks about how good it is that he hears another perspective on life. Especially from you.

-He’s has more intuition than Ran so he can catch your mood in an instant.

- he’s a huge listener so he’ll listen with no problem if you’re talkative. He LOVES your voice and can hear you talk all day.

-He knows everything you like, even if you guys weren’t dating, I’d imagine he’d know what you like even before hand what you like.

-You two would have a haters to lovers kind of relationship. But he’d fall first❤️

-He’s very loving to you.

-Honestly one of my favorite characters from TR

……………………………..,..,,,………………………………………

SANZU HARUCHIYO

- crazy mf.

-But I love him and he’s highly misunderstood.

-Realistically, he’s a very bipolar guy, like it’d take a while for him to finally warm up to you since he idolizes and worships Mikey. But you’d definitely be his favorite the more he hangs out with you.

- He is very protective of you. Anyone who crossed you, consider them dead. He will make sure of that.

- He always puts a facade that he doesn’t care about you, but little by little that mask breaks. He would not verbally show his liking towards you but his facial features very much tells you how he feels about you.

-he worships the ground you step on. As he thinks Mikey is a king. You’re his queen and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to satisfy you.

- If he sees you talking to a man that’s not bonten executives, he immediately stands next to you and removes you from the conversation, saying a lie like “we have something to do”

-when you’d ask him why he did that he just leave you with, “you’re not allowed” with no reasoning at all.

-He does very tiny things to show his feelings for you but as I said, he’s very difficult to love someone that isn’t Mikey (NO SHIP TRUST ME, tjsi is just from the manga since Sanzu refers to Mikey as a king.)

-I feel like he has very crazy thoughts, like his mind is a prison from how much he went through. (Like come on, watching his big brother figure drown himself and then watching the same thing happening to Mikey? So traumatic, on top of that Takeomi is so unfair to him. :()

- As we see from the manga, he takes a lot of drugs to make him forget and get high. He tries to chase the same feeling, but then he finds you so basically, you’re his new drug.

-Sex is another drug to him, he still does it when you’re around but lately, he’s been imagining you while fing another prostitute from the brothels. Searching for your same features and having the poor girl, ass up as he pounds her from behind. Thinking of you. Take that as you will.

- he’s severely touched starved and he doesn’t he know it, so when he realizes he falls for you, he wants your comfort but is too prideful to say so. He suffers alone where all he wants is to be in your arms :(

……………………………………………………………………………..

KOKONOI HAJIME

- Kokonoi buys things for you, things that you didn’t even ask for. He’s like a mom. He buys dresses and clothes for you and wants you to try them on, giving him a little fashion show. Any dress that you both don’t like gets returned.

- I honestly picture him with a girl who is very priceless. Like opposites attract he’s materialistic and you’re more cheap or not attracted to what money gives you. I feel like that type of person would help him break this obsessive thought about wanting money.

- you helped him get over Akane. So now he’s obsessed over you. Not so much as Sanzu but he just likes to be in your presence.

- Kokos type of girl is someone who is witty, intelligent, and cunning. He can’t stand bimbo girls. He also needs someone who’s sweet. He has a habit of overworking himself, he needs someone to burden his burdens with him.

- He buys you things even if you refuse. He has this need to spoil you, especially if you grew up with the bare minimum or below.

- He would say he doesn’t think of you as a love but does things that literally mean more than friends. He can’t help it.

—————————————————————————-

That’s all for now, let me know if you want the rest of the bonten members.

And again I AM SO SORRY RESPONDING SO LATE. I was so caught up in school!

I’d HIGHLY recommend checking out Meraki_Unwritten on Wattpad. Her stories are so SO GOOD lIKE I HAVE A CORE MEMORY READING HER STORIES IN SUMMER OF 2023. Please check her out! This is important because I’m going on Rindou’s personality based off her book “Dollface” a RINDOU X READER book! she has a Mikey one, Sanzu, Ran, Rindou. They are all finished, the Mikey one is on the road to finishing! She had a Kakucho and Izana one but it’s unfortunately discontinued since she’s graduating college, But I am happy for her! She’s such a good writer and her books will make you happy, sad, etc. SHE IS SUCH A GOOD WRITER AND IM HER BIGGEST FAN. IF SHE HAS ZERO FANS, IM DEAD!

#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader

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vibratingskull · 14 hours

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Ok so we all love Thrawn as a dad, but the idea of Thrawn coming back from exile to meet his baby granddaughter is rotting my brain and I need others to see my vision (and if you're taking requests when you get this, I'd love to hear your headcanons/thoughts about it)

Gilf Thrawn for the win! Granddad Thrawn is such a sweet thought tho... I'm melting, the softness, the sweetness, the tenderness... 😭😭😭

Thrawn & Daughter!reader

Tags: tooth rooting fluff, reunion, single dad/granddad!Thrawn, daughter!Reader

Thrawn remains silent, simply observing the house in front of him.

He is sure this is the right address, but he somehow feels tense at the idea of knocking on the door.

So many years have passed. Ten years of complete radio silence while he was exiled. So many things must have changed.

He just hopes his daughter is doing okay. You were a teenager when he disappeared, now you must be an adult, with your life sorted out, you may not want him back...

He raises his hand and presses the doorbell. He is met by silence, only hearing his pounding heart until he hears hurried footsteps behind the door.

“Coming!” A male voice responds.

Did he get the wrong address?

The door slides open to reveal a human male he has never met before.

“What do you... Oh!” The human simply says discovering Thrawn in full Grand Admiral regalia, his eyes rounding up in surprise.

They look into each other eyes in silence for a split second before the human turns towards the inside of the house.

“Thitanu! I think you should come at the door!”

New footsteps can be heard and a human female appears. Thrawn’s heart jumps. You are so grown up now!

You stop dead in your tracks with a shocked expression.

This is you, his daughter, his beloved k’eten, the joy of his heart, his pride.

“...Dad?”

“Ch’eo k’eten.” He responds, incredulous himself.

“...How?”You ask with a white voice like you were observing a ghost from a distant past.

“It will be long to explain everything. Just know that I am back for good, Ch’eo K’eten.”

You raise your hand to your mouth, a broken sob escaping you.

“Re-really?”

“Yes. I am here for you now.” He opens his arms to invite you.

You throw yourself at him. You are taller now and with a mature face, but still as beautiful as in his memories. You hug each other tight, reveling in each other’s presence and warmth.

“Thitanu...” He whispers in his bliss, pressing you against his heart, “(Y/n)”.

It is so good to finally hug his daughter, after so long...

He kisses your forehead, inhaling your scent, sending his heart into a frenzy. Now that he is back he will not let you go! You will need protection in those future confused and violent times and he is perfectly capable of offering it to you.

You will travel with him on his ISD across the universe.

If you refuse to come with him he will make you move to one of his hideouts, where nothing could ever reach you and harm you. Your security is his top priority now!

You part from him suddenly with eyes full of excitation.

“I need you to meet someone urgently!” And you grab his hand and pull him inside in a hurry, so much so that he almost bumps into the human man.

You pull him all the way up the stairs, never letting him go for a second. You giggle and almost fly across the corridors of the house. You reach a door and you press your finger on your lips, ordering him to remain silent.

He nods, curious about that person you so desperately wants him to meet. You slowly opens the door to let him discover... a nursery.

His heart skips a bit, he turns back to you and you smile, absolutely radiant, inviting him to enter. He passes the door gingerly, not making a single sound, not even a breath, like the nursery would evaporate at any moment, and with it all its promises.

The room is colorful, filled to the brim with toys and plushies. He remembers buying some for you when you were still a very little girl. He is glad you kept them with you. He slowly approaches the crib in the middle of the room, holding his breath, full of anticipation.

He slowly discovers a baby, sleeping soundly with a snow bunny in their little fist. He leans forward to observe them closer. They must be between 4 to 6 months old, still tiny and fragile. They have the same skin tone as the human male, but the nose and hair are yours indubitably.

Magnificent... Simply magnificent.

He observes, fascinated, the baby wiggling under their plaid, pressing the plushie against themself. They suddenly stop moving to yawn a big time, opening their mouth in perfect ‘O’, letting out the most adorable sound he ever heard.

“Take her in your arms.” You invite, approaching in his back.

“She is deeply sleeping. I would rather not disturb her.” He refuses.

“Nonsense. She can still sleep in your arms. Go on, take her, I know you want to.”

It’s true, he really wants to hold her in his hands.

But she is so small, and him so big...

What if he hurt her in some way? She looks so fragile, like she was made of thin glass.

“Go on. You will not hurt her, you never hurt me when you held me.” You insist.

He tentatively reaches for the baby, making sure to take her head delicately and support her body correctly.

Warrior, now that she is in his large hands she appears even smaller...

He lifts her slowly and carefully to bring her to his chest. She doesn’t seem to wake up, perfectly at peace. Now that he has her in his arms, reality settles in his mind and heart.

He is a grandpa.

He has a granddaughter.

A legacy.

Another dear one to protect with all his might and power.

He never guessed he would have another family before adopting you when you were only a three-year-old. Grandchildren were a concept so far away, like an impossible dream. And then he got exiled to Peridea, never to see his daughter again.

In his mind, his family would stop with you.

But you kept going, you flourished and pushed through. You found yourself a companion and gave birth to a magnificent baby girl. His family is alive and well against his worst fears...

His family... is safe.

And now he is back.

With you.

Nothing will ever separate him from his family again!

He presses the baby against himself, reverently kissing her forehead like she was a saint figure that came to grace his dark existence.

“What is her name?” He whispers to not disturb the baby’s sleep, eyes fixated on the most beautiful being he ever saw beside you.

“Thisaima.” You smile, caressing your baby’s head.

His heart jolts.

You chose a Chiss name.

To honor him.

Back when he met you on this now far away planet ravaged by war, the only miraculous survivor under your birth house rubbles, he asked you your name and kept it. He always addressed you as Thitanu, your Chiss name, and (Y/n), your birthname, leaving you the choice of your identity.

And today you chose a Chiss name for your daughter.

He is so grateful to you, you are giving him so much!

“What happened when I disappeared?” He asks finally.

“Aunt Karyn took care of me. When you left us both on Coruscant to go to Lothal she stayed at our apartment for a bit. Then we learned your disappearance with the Chimaera. She really stepped up and took responsibility the best she could. She pushed me to get my diploma and helped me find a job. She did her best with me.”

He owes a lot to Karyn Faro and way more than several years of diligent and loyal services it appears.

He looks back at his granddaughter, looking even more precious and fragile now. He cannot lose anyone else again.

He will not allow it.

Not anymore.

He kisses the baby’s forehead again, reveling in the softness of the skin. She giggles in her sleep.

“I am back to protect you both. I will not fail again.”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #fanfic #vibratingskull

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bitter-pyre · 2 months

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♥️💚

#bitter pyre draws #kirideku #krdk #sketch #kiss #kiss kiss #I started writing that winter au that’s been rotting my brain uwu #as if I don’t have enough stories on the docket #I just want them to be soft and tender with each other

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sukugo · 6 months

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i really hate the soft sukuna hc before but with sukugo it just works?! sukuna is the king of douches and i have a hard time seeing him stopping at it but in sukugo it is not hard to imagine he would go softie. it is something for satoru alone.

i could see sukuna just hate fucking everyone else but he would go slow and deep for satoru just to torture him. he would gently fuck him for hours until satoru cries and begs because he wants it hard and fast. satoru wants to be destroyed but sukuna denies him and makes him feel good with a gentleness satoru believes he did not deserve but desperately needs.

then when satoru finally gives in to the softness offered, sighing into the slow rhythm of their bodies, sukuna would suddenly fuck him like there is no tomorrow. he would slam relentlessly into satoru's prostrate to make him keen again and again. sukuna fingers would leave bruises blooming like purple roses all over satoru's hips and thighs. he keeps him spread open as he drove himself sharply and deeply inside satoru.

sukuna enjoys the show satoru puts up under him. his white hair spread like a halo over his head and framed his blue eyes clouded by too much pleasure. tears and drool glistened on his blushing face. his porcelain skin a canvas of blood red vines and blooming purple and blue bruises.

the best part for sukuna was how satoru keeps up with him. his body naturally dances to the rhythm sukuna sets. his cock bounces and weeps in perfect timing with every thrusts. each slap of their skin is highlighted by satoru's sighs and moans. and when the man under him keens and cums, his body bows and tenses so beautifully in harmony.

then sukuna would slow their pace again with satoru following obediently like a dancer enslaved to his patron. he would grind inside him for minutes before thrusting shallowly in demand for an encore. satoru would groan and cry but he would still welcome his demand to perform once more.

NNGFGFHHGFHFDGGGGGHHHHHGSFHGSDJKFHJFHKSJDHFJKSDHFJK FHRUFIDHHDIKADKHJFDHFKJSDLKSLJFAS

#f.ask #ANON????????#DO U THINK U CAN LEAVE THIS IN MY INBOX AND EXPECT ME TO BE FINE??????#ive actually read this multiple times since u sent it and it has made me crazy every single time. fuCK #that's so hot that's so fucking hot #LIKE YEAH #it's a back-and-forth between soft and slow and fast and rough bc that's how it is with them!!!!!#sukuna's relentless. but satoru takes and takes. bc that's what he wants. and that's what sukuna wants to give.#and at the same time.#tender. sukuna giving his love to gojo with every slow drag along his walls.#fsijahdkasgjsdhlkfskdjfsdkfasjfglskada *explodes*#they're just perfect for each other OTL #jjk #sukugo #ns4w #and FUCK bruised gojo oh god. do u understand how crazy i am abour bruised gojo.#sukuna leaving him completely marked all over. blood gorgeously blooming on his pretty flawless skin 😩😩😩😩#it's fine im fine #he's so pretty u described it all so gorgeously OTL

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reanimatedgh0ul · 2 years

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while i love danny and valerie being soft tender and wholesome w each other i have yet to elaborate on why i personally get equal if not more enjoyment out of them specifically in a pre reveal context being allowed to love each other in a way that's messy imperfect and flawed

#like before i get into this to clarify is MY personal take on the relationship and what i would like to get out of it #LIKE THE NARRATIVE POTENTIAL THAT HAS IS SO JUICY AND INTERESTING TO ME OK #THE DRAMA THE TENSION THAT HAS #the metaphorical delicate tightrope these two walk and balance off of when it comes to their relationship #one wrong move and it could snap like twine #it's this push and pull these two have #them being soft and tender w each other HITS DIFFERENT post reveal in this context #bc it's abt them being tired they just want to care for and love the other w/o ever hurting them again #heck them being soft and tender w each other before the reveal adds another weight to it when it finally happens #they can't go back to the status quo bc everything's changed now #it's this i want to trust you i want to know that i don't have to have my guard up around you that you won't hurt me #that i can lay myself bare and be honest w you go back to the way things use to be but idk if i or if we can anymore #LIKE DO YOU SEE THE VISION YET #robi rambles

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rxttenfish · 9 months

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no more monster prom as comfort media, now every character is solidly fucked the hell up and have more than a few things to be very reasonably angry/frustrated about in a notably un-presentable way

#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#aka Why I Write Things The Way I Do #dont get me wrong the primary feeling of all of them together is very much #very close friends who care deeply for each other and sincerely just want the best for each other #and are going to stay here with each other through the storm and through hell #but also like. there is still hell out there. its fuckin Rough.#the world is scary and the world is hard and everyone is someone elses worst nightmare #so its up to you to be soft and tender with each other.

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arklay · 2 years

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oh. just thought about how shit it would feel for diana every time [redacted] is tender with her after she told him she loved him and he hadn't said it back. big oof

#like i have said right like it didn't matter to her if he said it back right? and that she just wanted to tell him cause that's how she #feels and she wanted him to know. and that's all true like if he never says it back then so be it like she will deal with it and move on #(aka her denying she really wants this and just rationalising her emotions rip in pieces) but that doesn't change the fact that her stomach #drops every time whenever he is soft with her because she's still so confused. she doesn't know if he feels anything back for her but then #why would he be so tender with her? she hates that she let herself have feelings for him. hates that she's in love with a man who might not #be able to give that back to her. because for as much as she says she doesn't care for romance or that she doesn't need it deep down she #has always wanted such a connection with someone and she has that with him. they get each other. she's never felt so *known* before but #then why doesn't he love her back? and it's like diana pleaaase he does!! he does so so much!! he just doesn't want to admit it to himself!#like them both just having these overwhelming emotions for each other which they haven't really felt before and both don't know how to deal #with it oughghg and diana just like knowing okay yeah we are friends and he's shown he cares for her but does he love her? and she just #doesn't know. she's so confused. so him being soft always makes her tense up a little bit after she tells him she loves him and he just #stayed quiet. it didn't feel like a slap in the face at a time but after all this time oh boy it sure does now... like arhghghgggh idk if i #am wording what i'm trying to get across properly but i am having so many emotions about them tonight send help #and yeah this was about the somft spicy thought i had like literally okay so beforehand like not even very soft moments but she was #standing in the doorway while he was just relaxing in bed and he reached a hand out and she got so like eeeee right but then sitting on the #edge of the bed and tentatively taking his hand cause her stomach just feels so tight and she's so oughg bye i am passing away #pair: ewskers #leah.txt

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joelscurls · 5 months

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best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

#joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction

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