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gojonanami · 6 months

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GOT YOU - SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time. (in other words, feral dub gojo had me by the throat). ☆ cw: 18+ only, dead dove, do not eat, smut, yandere!gojo, non/con (at the start), dub/con, mentions of noncon masturbation w/ clothes/in bed, manipulation, gaslighting, light choking, degradation (slut, whore), fingering (f!receiving), panty sniffing, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink, cumplay (slightly), multiple orgasms. ☆ wc: 3,132

“Got you,” a familiar voice hums in your ear, and the floor was yanked from under you - mentally and physically, because now you were pinned to the floor, looking up at the same blue eyes you had prayed you would never see again, “miss me sweetheart?”

And he knew the answer from the wide eyes and trembling lips, but that only made him all the more eager. He leans down, pressing his lips to your soft cheek, “come on, baby, not even a hello? I’d even settle for a kiss or a smile,” he pouts, feeling your hands squirm under his grasp, as he straddled you, “trying to wave hello? Thought we were closer than that,” he hums, “don’t I deserve a warmer welcome, after all the effort I took to find you? To wait here all day for you,”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, harsh and bitter, as bitter as the words you wished to scream at him - but you know that would get you nowhere, “how about you let me go, and I’ll give you the welcome you deserve?” And the quaver in your voice isn’t what gives you away, he knows you all too well, and you know he won’t let you go that easy.

“Aw baby, I'd love to believe you,” he sighs dramatically, “but after I lost you for two years, I can’t risk you slipping away again,” he noses your neck, inhaling deeply, “I had to have such patience over the last few weeks, had to make sure you hadn’t picked up on my presence, and you didn’t,” he grins, as he traces a finger down your jaw, “you know how hard it was? I spent so many mornings in your bed after you went to work, slept in it, still warm from your body, and I could smell you,” his lips curled into a smile that would have been so gorgeous, if it weren’t terrifying, “made me so needy for you baby, I had to relieve myself,” he admits with a sigh, “luckily, your hamper was full of clothes with your scent, and in your bed, it made it even easier,”

And your stomach twisted at the thought of him touching himself in your bed — and oh god, with what clothes?

His thumb brushes against the length of your cheek, “why did you run from me, baby?” and you’re silent — he knows why you ran.

Satoru Gojo was perfect when he was your best friend — the perfect shoulder to cry on when one of your crushes didn’t work out, when a job prospect didn’t pan out, or a friend had hurt your feelings. What you didn’t know was he was the reason none of these crushes ever had worked out, why a job prospect that took you too far from him didn’t hire you, and why these friends who hurt your feelings and took up too much of your time had left shortly after. But to you, he was your savior, his compassion limitless, his patience infinite — and so you fell for him, just as he knew you would. It was a drunken kiss one night when he knew you were vulnerable, when he knew that your feelings for him were so close to the surface, you couldn’t help but kiss him. And kissing lead to a confession, and then the two of you were together.

It was perfect — for a while.

Soon, you couldn’t deal with his jealousy — over coworkers, friends, even your family, and with his controlling tendencies — he wanted you to spend every waking moment with him, he even wanted you to quit your job, to let him take care of you, and you couldn’t handle his constant suspicion — the constant questions of where you were (even when you had told him) and the accusations that came along with them.

So you tried to break it off — tried. The first few times, Satoru sweet talked his way back into your heart — and your bed — with false promises and sweet kisses. But that soon wore old when his promises remained broken and his kisses left you with a bitter taste in your mouth. And when you tried to leave for good once — your bags packed — he had grabbed you, held you down, and stared at you with the same paralyzing look he gave you now, lips twisted into a smile you had never seen before, as he whispered the same two words he said when he greeted you now, “Got you,” and then he added, “and I’m never letting you go.”

“Are you going to answer?” the present Satoru snaps you back to reality with a gentle hand around your throat, his thumb running over the hollow, before he kisses it, “or should I make you?”

“Satoru, please, stop—”

“That’s what you always say, baby,” he rolls his eyes, as if he was exasperated, “and then you always end up under me, begging for more,” and he squeezes your throat lightly, “nothing but a little slut, aren’t you?” and you gasp, as he loosens his grip again, “have you whored yourself out to any of those men at work?” and he’s grazing his teeth against your jawline, “if I leave a mark, that should keep them away, right? They’ll know you have a loving boyfriend — one who’s not afraid to claim what’s his,” and he’s smiling again, “now, tell me, have you slept with anyone else?”

And you don’t want to answer — the answer’s no, you hadn’t, but you didn’t know whether that would make it worse or better. But his hand around your throat tells you, you don’t have a choice.

“No, I haven’t,” you confess — and his smug grin only serves to irritate you, as he sighs far too contently, parting your legs as he moves to settle between them, “please don't—”

“I have to check, don’t I, princess?” he murmurs, and his hand is drifting up your tight skirt, “such a slutty skirt for someone who hasn’t been sleeping around. Did you wear it just for me?” and he’s raising a brow, as his fingers roll your skirt higher, fabric straining as he did, “well, I don’t want you wearing it for anyone else, so—“ and the fabric tears apart, your legs jumping as he does, and his lips press to your knee, “there’s my perfect baby,”

Your hands are free as his hands busy themselves with spreading your leg, inhaling your scent, as his fingers trail up your inner thighs. Your hands are trying to push him away, kicking your legs helplessly, but he’s got them under his grasp. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh a little too hard, and you know he’s going to leave bruises at some point or another.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he hums when he finds a wet spot on your underwear, “look, you’re already ruining your underwear, and I’ve barely even started — you’ve been wanting this too,” and your hand finds his face, trying and failing to push him away, but he only licks the space between your fingers, “now be a good girl for me or I’ll make you,” the last words a growl, “and you don’t want me to do that,” but he feels you grow more damp with your slick as his fingers press against your clit through your underwear, “or maybe you do.”

“Satoru, please don’t do this,” you’re begging, but his crystalline gaze only grows more cold, as his lips curl as he sees hot, fat tears well in your eyes, “just let me go, I won’t run. I just don’t-“

“C’mon now, what’s wrong? How could I ever let you go?” He coos, as he watches the first tear roll down your cheek, as he leans down and tastes it, “I need you, baby, and now that I got you,” his two fingers sneak into the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin, “I’ll never let you leave my sight again,”

You flinch from his touch, squirming underneath him, “Please, I-I’ll do anything, just don’t—“ and his thumb pressed against your lips, as his lidded eyes and smirk only draw nearer.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, don’t you remember? You asked for this — you made me promise to never leave you,” twisting the words you had muttered to him that drunken night, whispered after your first kiss with him and now he purred them as he bent down, breath warming your lips, as he tilted your chin up, “and I always keep my promises,”

“Now tell me,” he smiles that same smile that had caught your heart, “tell me you want this,” he’s nibbling at your neck, and you’re melting into his touch — and he knows you’re so close to submission, “tell me, baby,”

And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your body burning from his touch, “I want you,”

His lips curl into a wide grin, teeth flashing.

He kisses you, lips sliding against yours, and your lips shut even as his tongue tried to slip inside. And he bites your bottom lip, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips, and his tongue plunges in, as you moan, boneless and helpless.

And his hands slide down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, “Fuck, baby, I’m addicted to you — you taste so good,” and he’s tugging your shirt over your head, as his lips attach themselves to your jaw. You whimper as his teeth draw marks along your jaw, before trailing a path down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, before leaning down to the swell of your breasts right above your bra.

His fingers press against your soaked panties, the fabric doing little to prevent the full force of his touch, thick and mean fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit, “Too fast,” you whine, back arching against the rough carpet of your living room, “too much,” your mouth falling cutely open and eyelashes fluttering, as your slick leaks through the thin material making his fingers grow sticky.

“But your pretty cunt doesn’t agree, sweetheart,” he reaches around and unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, his teeth grazing your nipple before sucking, a grunt leaving your throat, heat blooming a trail down between your legs, “it wants me to fill you — fill you like you deserve,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs and then pulls them to his nose, “so fucking sweet,” and he’s pocketing them for later use — your cum not going to be the only thing staining it later.

And he’s slipping down your body, kissing down your breasts, mouthing each nipple, before placing wet kisses between the valley of your chest, and down your stomach, pausing to slip his tongue into your bellybutton to make you gasp, as he hums against your skin.

“Been dreaming of tasting this sweet pussy,” he sighs dreamily, as he settles between your thighs, his large hands spreading you open for him, fingers spreading your dripping folds, making you clench around nothing, before, not one, but two fingers slip inside with ease, making you choke on air, as he steadily begins to fuck you open, “you sure you haven’t whored yourself out baby, or do you just want my cock that badly?” and he tuts, “nah, can’t be. You’re too tight, so fucking gorgeous,”

And you swallow thickly, hating the way his words make your resolve buckle — want seeping through the cracks, leaving only need behind — why were you weak for him like this? He knew you too well — knew where to touch, knew what to say to make you lose all sense, and he knew he could.

And he would do it too.

Soon enough, he’s pulling his digits from you, only the tips pressed inside as he spreads you, his mouth leaning do to press a sloppy kiss to your weeping cunt, “this pretty thing was made f’me, wasn’t it, princess?” and his hot tongue dragging your release up and down your pussy, before his fingers sink again for a hot minute, deeper than they had until they find that spot that has you seeing stars, making you moan louder, “Ah, this is where you’re weak, right, pretty baby?” And his mouth latches to your clit, sucking as his fingers bully your walls, “fuck, you’re so wet f’me, practically leaking all over your carpet, now what will your guests think?” he hums, a grin on his lips, “maybe after I fuck you, I’ll make you lick it all up f’me, clean up your mess,”

And his words drive you over the edge, making you cum all over his fingers, your slick slipping onto his palm, as he pulls his fingers from you as you moan wantonly, his tongue darting out to lick and clean his fingers clean, pressing his digits into his mouth, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, baby,” and he’s parting you again with the tips of his fingers, before his tongue slips in.

And his tongue parts your cunt, beginning to fuck you in earnest now, as his jaw aches as he does, hot and warm muscle reaching depths you didn’t know were possible. He’s licking, prodding, and sucking, and your soft grunts and moans only made him even harder, straining in his pants, “g’nna make me cum in my pants baby from your taste and sounds alone,” and you’re already so close, too close — your first orgasm making you so sensitive, but right as you give that telltale clench, he’s pulling away a moment, to watch your chest rise and fall with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, pretty, pretty cunt quivering from the lack of sensation, and a long whine leaving your lips.

“Want you to cum on my cock this time, baby, not in my mouth,” he says, lips and chin glossy with your slick, “we have time for that later,” and now you’re growing desparate as he just watches you, cleaning up your release from his mouth, tongue darting out to lick what he could, before using the back of his hand to wipe away what he couldn’t.

And the plea leaves your mouth before you realize it, “Please,” you swallow thickly, your words weak and broken, “Satoru, please,”

“Please, what?” he teases, as he pulls his shirt cover his head, your eyes raking over his abs and lingering on the v-line as his sweatpants rode low, doing very little to hide the large bulge that your eyes were glued to, “want me to split you open with my cock?” and he wanted nothing more, as he slips his pants and boxers off with ease, his dick nearly slapping against his stomach as he did, a pearly white bead of pre-cum resting on the flushed red tip, his hand grasping it, as he pumped it slowly to spread his release, “gonna have to use your words baby, don’t care if they’ve been fucked out of that little brain of yours,”

You pout so beautifully, bottom lip quivering, all of your resistance and fear eroded away by lust and need, “I want you, need you to fuck me, please, Toru,” you squirm, thighs parting for him, “need you inside me, please,”

It doesn’t take more than a second before the tip of his dick is pressed to your folds, “Look at you now, baby — you were begging me to leave, and now you’re begging for this cock,” and you’re moaning as he feeds your insides his dick, inch by inch, “fuck, practically swallowing me up — want to be fucked that bad baby?” And finally he’s inside you, fully seated in your sweet cunt, “or maybe, you want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy, sweetheart? Make me a daddy?”

And he’s starts to fuck you, hips snapping against yours — and he was unrelenting in his pace, cock breaching and bullying your insides, brushing against your sweet spot again and again. Your teeth bared down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back your noises, but he can’t have that, can he?

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “Wanna hear every pretty sound, sweetheart, wanna hear you scream my name as I fuck you,” and he begins to fuck you even harder, hips slapping against you, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching from his cock, your sweet moans of his names, and lust glazed over gaze was almost too much for him.

But it only made him more desperate to fuck you harder, until all you could feel was him between your legs for the next month, as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, making himself sink even deeper, deeper, deeper.

And it was too much, too much for you, as you came around his cock for the first time in two years, and god, it was the most beautiful thing Satoru had seen. Your mouth parted in ecstasy as your release slicked up his cock, as he fucked your cum back into you, as your princess cunt clamped down on him hard, again and again.

You were moaning his name again and again, the only word you knew now, mouth parted open as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, pretty pussy was made just for that. Gonna make you cum again and again, until you can’t live without my cock between your legs. You’d like that, huh? Make you walk around with my cum inside you, even when I get you pregnant, I’ll fuck you again and again, until you’re leaking with me.”

And you’re just moaning, nodding and broken, lost to the pleasure, as he grits his teeth, cock twitching at the sight before him, watching his dick slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release around the base of his cock.

It wasn’t much longer, until he notched his cock as deep as he could, holding himself as he gave only shallow thrusts, his hot release pumping into you, continuing to fuck it deeper, “gotta make sure it sticks, don’t we, sweetheart” he murmurs with a smile, as he captures your lips in a kiss, cock still stuffed inside of you, “can’t let you get away from me now. It’d be much harder with a baby, won’t it?”

And he’s easing himself out, groaning as he watches your mixed releases beginning to trickle out as the tip of his cock slaps against your weeping cunt. He pools the cum on his fingers, pushing it back in, making you flinch and moan, utterly blissed out, eyes fluttering as you gazed up at him.

He only smiles the same way he always did, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.”

☆ a/n: i usually don't write things like this (i.e. non/con), but the dub feral gojo lines lived rent free in my head, until i wrote this (they still do, it's fine) I also don't post fics this often, but I am writing a lot of fics.

☆ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @miss-nightray

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk smut #satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru smut #yandere!gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere x reader

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huramuna · 4 months

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foxfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in.

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head.

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold.

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a fox, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him.

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be.

And so it shall be.

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children.

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was.

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late.

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice.

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet.

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you.

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot.

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.”

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders.

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him.

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there.

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him.

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head.

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it.

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–”

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough.

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #my writing

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within-your-eyes-if · 26 days

Text

April 1st Progress Update

Hello everyone!

First, this update isn't an April's Fools joke, as much as I wish it were. Secondly, maintaining a level of transparency is important to me. It lets you all understand where I'm at and what to expect. With that, I apologize there was no March update.

In my last update, I hinted at some hardships in my life, and things were looking better. Unfortunately, sometimes life tends to kick you down when you're trying to get back up, and that's what happened not long after that update. This time, however, it took a heavy toll. I really tried, but I could not get back up on my own this time.

I had to step away for the most part and work on healing. I'm genuinely starting to feel better now, with each day being a little clearer and brighter than the last. Writing is slowly becoming easier again, which is a huge relief. It's strange how little time has passed, yet it feels years away.

As I believe I've stated before, I have no intentions of abandoning my story; this still rings true. There's just a regret I lost the momentum I gained.

Progress hasn't been at a complete standstill, and I'm still slowly working on drafts. It's hard to explain without delving into personal details — know I'm trying my hardest. I'm unsure what the word count is at the time of writing this, as I'm still going over and refining it. However, I have finished a few more scenes and I'm nearing the finish line.

Lastly, I'm sorry I disabled the asks. There are quite a few I need to catch up on, but answering was, and has always been, hard for me. I'll probably put together a FAQ post in the next few days (as well as finish a certain post I've been neglecting). Anyway, I hope to enable asks again in the near future.

Thank you all once again for your incredible patience. I'm sorry if this update isn't what you hoped for. Regardless, I hope Part Two is well worth the wait!

#within your eyes if #wye progress update

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freedomfireflies · 10 months

Text

Lost

Summary: An extra for Mine*

Harry's worst nightmare has finally come true:

You've been taken.

And he plans to do everything in his power to find you.

Word Count: 3.4k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

It’s been two days, six hours, and forty-seven minutes since you were kidnapped in the middle of your living room.

Two days, six hours, and forty-seven minutes since you were placed in this warehouse, strapped to a chair, with nothing but some stale bread and a bit of water.

Two days, six hours, and forty-seven minutes since you’ve last seen him.

Harry.

About the only thing you’ve been able to think about since they threw a bag over your head and bound your hands behind your back. The only name, the only constant.

Harry.

Your one saving grace in this endless abyss of terror and intimidation. The idea of him. The idea that he’s out there, looking for you, and most likely tearing the Earth in two just to find you.

You spend a lot of time alone. Or rather, lonely. You’re constantly surrounded by guards, but they’re posted around the room, and they’re not exactly chatty.

You replay old memories of the two of you. Replay the day you met. Replay how he looks in the morning, curls disheveled, and skin fresh. Replay the sound of his voice. Over and over and over.

You imagine him talking to you now. Imagine him helping you through the problem, whispering delicately into your ear. A conversation meant to save you.

Doing so good, mama. You’re okay. Promise. They’re not gonna fucking touch you. I’m gonna find you.

“I know,” you murmur quietly to yourself. “Really wish you’d hurry.”

I know, sugar. But I’ll be there. You’ll see. And I’ll take you home. Never gonna let you go again.

“What if you can’t find me?”

I will. Rip through every goddamn corner of the Earth to find you.

“I don’t know what they’re gonna do with me.”

They won’t do a fucking thing. I promise. I’ll be there. I’ll find you.

“I miss you.”

I’ll find you.

You choose to believe the voice in your head. Choose to believe that he’s already on his way. That he’ll be here. That he’ll find you.

I’ll find you.

The sound of the large double doors being thrown open forces you to jolt in your chair, eyes flying forward.

The man who took you—whose name you refuse to learn—strides in, attention on you as though he’s coming to collect a prize.

You’ve imagined this scenario before. The moment you learn Harry was unsuccessful. That he was taken hostage.

Or worse.

You don’t like this shit-eating grin your captor wears. Don’t like the way he beams with pride or the way he rubs his hands together as if to warm himself up.

You recoil in your seat, attempting to disappear altogether.

“My dear,” he calls, stopping only a few feet away from where you sit. “I come with excellent news.”

No, no, no, you think, heart sinking to the depths of your stomach.

“It seems our guest of honor has finally accepted my invitation,” the man proceeds, palms smacking together gleefully. “Lucky for you, as my patience was growing thin.”

He sweeps around the back of your chair, the unsettling and putrid smell of his aftershave assaulting your senses as you grimace.

“So we’re gonna make a deal, my dear,” he continues, dipping down until his mouth can settle near your ear. “I’m gonna let him walk in here. I’m gonna let him think he’s saved you. And I’m gonna give him exactly two minutes to feel like he actually did his job.”

You know what comes next, and the soft trickle of air near your cheek makes your muscles stiffen.

“And then…I’m gonna end him.”

With that, the rival leader snaps his fingers, and leads his guards out through the double doors.

Leaving you truly alone.

About two minutes pass before you hear a bit of commotion on the other side of the warehouse, and through your watery eyes, you manage to make out a familiar shape.

It sneaks through a back door and begins running toward you, the gaussian blurred hair and black attire making your lungs ache.

“Hey, hey. Okay, okay, all right.” Hands cautiously scope your trembling frame, hovering near your shoulders, hips, legs, and cheeks as they search for something. “Honey, I need you to look at me. Look at me, sugar, please.”

You think you already are but can’t see past these tears. Can’t understand anything past what the nasty man said to you. Can’t comprehend what you have to do.

Fingers begin pulling on the ropes around your hands, desperate to undo them and set you free.

“I’ve got you,” the voice says, and it sounds like honey. Sweet and heavy, dripping down your ears and making you feel warm. “I’ve got you, okay? Gonna get you out of here, I promise. Just look at me, okay? Just keep looking at me, baby.”

“Harry?”

The sound of his name cracking from your dry throat seems to gut him, and his entire expression falls as he nods.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmurs, pressing a palm to your jaw. “S’me. I’m here. And I’m gonna take you home, okay? Gonna get you out of here—”

“Harry,” you repeat, but it sounds weak and fragile. Can’t display the urgency you’re trying to convey. “Harry—”

“I know, baby. I know. It’s me, I’m here,” he repeats, returning his focus to undoing your restraints. He works fast, tugging hard and with all his strength as the first one finally loosens. “Breathe, okay? Just breathe—”

“Harry.” The whimper bleeds from your throat, a fresh wave of desperation rolling down your face as you try to capture his attention. “Harry, no—”

“Shh, honey. You’re okay, I promise. Gonna make it better, I swear—”

“Harry, please—”

“I know, mama. I know, it’s okay—”

“No. Go—”

“Yeah, we’re gonna go. We’ll go, sugar—”

“No.”

The hushed but urgent silence is broken by the piercing decibels of your cry. The loudest noise you’ve made in days, and it echoes around the warehouse as he stills.

Blinking, his hands slow. “What? What’s wrong, am I hurting you? Did they hurt you—”

“No.” It seems as though it’s all you can say, chest heaving with anxious breaths. “No. Harry…go. Go, you have to go—”

He looks wounded. Eyes softening as he begins to shake his head. “M’not going,” he whispers, trying to cradle your cheek once more. “I know I left you, but I never meant for this. Baby, I swear. I did everything—”

“Harry,” you try again. “Go—”

“No.” His jaw is clenched but his frown is obvious. “No. I won’t leave you. I know you have every right to make me, but I can’t. I can’t do it—”

“Harry—”

“Please.” It’s loud but so incredibly scared. Mimicking the expression on his face. “Please. I can’t go. Can’t leave you—”

“You have to,” you try again, struggling to speak in the way you want. “You have to, he’s coming back—”

“Let him,” Harry growls, and your stomach wrenches. “Fucking let him come back, and I’ll show him exactly how I fucking feel about him touching what’s mine.”

“No,” you nearly sob, arms tugging on the rope as you desperately attempt to reach for him. “Harry, no—”

The double doors fling open as the unnamed man and his army storm the building.

They shout, and they raise their weapons, and they encircle where you and Harry are settled in the middle of the warehouse.

Harry is already on his knees from trying to break your ties, but as the guard’s approach, they scream at him to get down. Surrender. Raise his hands and keep them high.

His malice is evident. Lids narrowed, teeth grinding together, and body practically trembling with rage as he slowly lifts his arms above his head.

“Harry,” you whisper, chest aching in a way you’ve never felt before.

He looks at you. Despite all the noise, the chaos, the fear. He looks at you and he mouths, “I love you.”

You have to resist the urge to scream.

“And there he is,” comes the cruel taunt of the man behind you. “After all this time, this is what it took to break you.”

Harry’s jaw raises defiantly as he shoots daggers toward your captor. He says nothing. Remains perfectly still as the intimidating weapons crawl closer to his head.

“Did you realize how weak you were?” the man goads him. “Is that why you kept her locked away? Is that why you tried to run? Because you knew you had nothing if you didn’t have her? To use as a bargaining chip?”

A hand is suddenly attaching to the roots of your hair and yanking so hard, you see stars.

Your head drops back, following the assault as you gasp, and Harry curses from his place a few feet away.

“Don’t fucking touch—”

“Easy,” the man warns, and you look up to see him shoot Harry a cocked brow of warning. “Move one fucking inch and she’s done.”

Harry stills, settling back onto his knees as the barrel of a gun digs into the side of his skull.

“Where is it?” comes the next question, sneered, and filled with years’ worth of vengeance as he tugs again on your hair. “Where?”

Harry is quiet, studying your reaction closely as he contemplates his answer. “Jersey.”

An answer given so quickly and without argument that you feel slightly shocked.

“Jersey…” the man repeats slowly. “You think that’s the truth I’ll buy?”

“I don’t fucking care whether you buy it or not,” Harry retorts coldly. “The shipment is in Jersey. You asked, I answered.”

A beat as the warehouse fills with an eerie silence.

“Far too quickly,” is the reply. “Considering how precious those items are to you. And you’d be willing to offer up their location without so much as a conversation?”

“She’s not a bargaining chip,” Harry hisses, yet he’s strangely calm. “Her life is more precious to me than anything in those fucking containers. I don’t care what you take, but you give her back to me.”

A cruel chuckle reverberates around the large, somewhat empty space as the fingers tangled in your roots go slack. “Funny…you think I’m here to make a trade.”

Harry leans back. Takes a breath. Locks eyes on the man towering above him. “Three.”

The man’s smirk widens. “She might not be your bargaining chip, but she is mine. You didn’t think I called you here just to chat, did you?”

Harry’s chest heaves. “Two.”

“I invited you here…because I want you to watch…what it looks like…when you lose…” the man continues, dipping down, “…everything you love.”

Harry’s lip curls up with disdain. “One.”

Suddenly, a small red dot appears on the man’s forehead. Directly in the middle, like a fresh zit ready to be popped. It shines brighter than anything in the room, and before you have a chance to recognize its importance…the sound of a gun goes off.

Everything happens so quickly. Harry lunges at you, pulling you from the chair as the ropes he’d already loosened fall away. He cradles you to his chest, cocooning his body around you as he pulls you to the floor and keeps you hidden.

And it’s so loud. Guns, yelling, anger. So much violence, it makes your stomach feel queasy.

But all you can focus on…is him.

Harry.

He found you, and he’s here, and he smells the way he always does. It’s strong, and safe, and you bury your face in his shirt as you attempt to crawl through his arms as if to live in his ribcage.

“It’s okay,” you vaguely hear him murmur, lips pressed directly to your ear. “It’s okay, mama, I’ve got you. Close your eyes, okay? Gonna be over soon. Gonna take you home.”

Home.

You aren’t helpless, but you feel helpless, and the sound of all this chaos isn’t helping. And almost as if left with no other choice…you disappear.

So tired, and hungry, and scared, and done that your body completely submits to the weight on your chest, and it carries you away.

You revert back to a state of mind that feels the most secure, and everything else…is just a blur.

Time passes. You aren’t sure how much. You keep your eyes closed and your focus on Harry’s voice. On his instructions. His praise. His promise that he’s gonna take you out of here. Never let you go.

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Another voice. Familiar. Far away.

You hear Harry huff. “No, she’s not fucking okay. She’s scared, and she’s shaking, and he fucking touched her—”

“Easy. Okay, all right.” You feel a third presence approach, and you warily crack an eye open to see Asher approaching, his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I mean, is she physically okay? Is she hurt, is something broken?”

Harry’s head shakes, his curls tickling your cheek. “She’s fine, I think. But she won’t stop shaking. I don’t think she’s eaten in days, and I don’t think she wants to see me—”

“Don’t do that,” Asher warns darkly, frowning some. “We just need to get her home. We’ll get her home, and it’ll be okay—”

“But it’s not her home anymore,” Harry nearly growls. “I have to completely uproot her. Again. And take her somewhere she doesn’t recognize, and she’s gonna be scared, and sad, and she’s gonna fucking hate me—”

“Boss.” Asher crouches down, palm squeezing the back of Harry’s neck. “Can’t do that. Not right now. Not here. You just need to go. Take her and go. The boys and I will clean this up…just make her feel safe again, okay?”

A long stretch of silence passes between this instruction and when Harry finally concedes and begins to stand up.

Two pairs of hands help bring you to your feet, with Asher’s familiar cologne drifting past your nose as he leans over to whisper, “You’re okay, sweetheart.”

Harry leads you out of the warehouse and toward his car. He keeps your face tucked into his shoulder as if to shield you from the bodies and the harsh light outside.

You don’t complain.

You drive for quite a while. Just you and him. No Paul. You drive until you don’t recognize where you are, and your eyelids grow heavy as the vibrations from the ride lull you to sleep.

When you wake next, you’re in a bed. You don’t know how you got there, what time it is, or where Harry might be.

But you don’t have the strength to argue.

You wrangle yourself upright, muscles sore, and head pounding. But the moment you push up, a soft lamp is flicking on, and Harry is rushing to your side.

“Easy, easy, okay,” he whispers when you sway a bit from the residual effects of your exhaustion. “You’re okay. M’right here.”

“Harry,” you breathe, cheek pressing into his palm as he cups your face and crawls onto the mattress beside you.

“Yeah, baby,” he says softly, tugging you back into his body. “It’s me.”

You take him into your lungs, inhaling his serenity until it becomes your own.

Your fingers trail up his shirt, mindlessly playing with the fabric as you work through the plethora of questions accumulating now that you’re beginning to return to yourself.

“Where are we?”

“In a safe house,” he replies quietly, nuzzling into your forehead. “Nobody knows the location but me. Not even Asher.”

You nod once. “How long have we been here?”

“Few hours.”

“How long are we staying?”

A beat.

“As long as we need to.”

You tug a bit harder on the fabric. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“…are you okay?”

You feel him go deathly still beneath you as he slowly rolls his head back to meet your eye. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

You nod again, scooting up to level the playing field. “Of course. I know that must have been hard on you. Especially switching locations so fast. And I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything, which is bad, because you should—”

“Baby.” The loving nickname that he only uses in times he needs you to know how much of his heart you really have is ushered in silent reverie. “How…how can you ask me that?”

You blink. “Because I love you? And I’m worried about you? And I know you don’t take care of yourself when you’re stressed—”

“Baby—” He sounds wounded. Almost aghast by the question as he begins shaking his head and taking your face in his hands. “You don’t…don’t. Don’t worry about me. This isn’t about me, this is about you. This is about what I let happen to you, and you don’t ever have to worry about me, okay? Especially right now—”

“Harry,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists to keep him close. “I’m always gonna worry about you.”

It’s like you’ve slapped him across the face, his features twisting into a pained wince as he curses and squeezes his eyes shut. “It is my job to take care of you. To protect you. Keep you safe. And I fucking failed.”

“No. You didn’t fail. They found the rare window of opportunity and it happened,” you argue. “You’ve always told me that nothing is certain in this field. There’s no way you could have kept me hidden through every second of every day—”

“I should have,” he retorts. “I should have done more. Should have been there—”

“You can’t be with me all the time—”

“Why the fuck not? If I had been, none of this would have happened—”

“But it did, and it’s over. It’s okay. You’re okay—”

“I fucking lost you—”

“But you found me.”

This seems to be the only thing that reaches him. In a moment so vulnerable, it catches you off guard.

He breaks.

His hands fall to your lap, his entire expression crumbles, his body wilts before you. You rush to take hold of him, fingers in his hair, tugging him closer until he can press his nose into your neck and hide.

He shakes with ragged breaths and the tears he’s trying so hard to fight. They’re hot, wet, and they seem to burn him like acid as they slide down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it’s so very broken. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

You shush him. Repeat his name like a mantra until he settles. Promise him that he’s okay. You’re okay. Everything…is okay.

It takes almost an hour for him to finally feel brave enough to lean back. But when he does, you kiss all over his forehead, and remind him that you’re here. That all you have to do now…is get better.

You nurse each other back to health. He takes you to the kitchen and cooks you your favorite meal: nachos.

You tease him about the cheese dripping down his chin and he tosses an olive at you. You watch TV just to forget. And eventually, you make your way for the bath.

You both sit in the tub for way longer than you probably should. Until the water has run cold, and the bubbles have dissipated.

But it’s nice. Sitting with him between your legs, his back against your chest as he hesitantly asks you what happened.

You tell him, keeping the details vague. You don’t want to scare him. The important thing is you’re both okay.

You fall asleep in each other’s arms, and you refuse to start the next day until way after noon.

He tries to argue a bit more about how wrong he was to leave you. How he needs to do better. How you deserve better than what he’s given you, and you spend just as much time arguing that it couldn’t be further from the truth.

He’s the only reason you’re safe at all.

He concedes but you know it’s because he intends to punish himself for the remainder of the day. Maybe week. Month.

But you’ll fight him on that another time.

You spend some of your day on the couch, flipping through magazines you found and reading an old book.

Harry spends his time on the phone, yelling with nearly every member of his team. You don’t interfere. You know it won’t do any good.

But then…something changes.

His entire demeanor shifts before he turns to look at you, eyes narrowed and hatred evident. You don’t hear what he says, don’t understand the context. But the look on his face alone is enough to tell you that something is very wrong.

When he finally hangs up the phone and steps closer, your heart drops.

You sit up. “What?”

He takes a deep breath, and says only one thing:

“Asher.”

Next Part:

~ Found (Lost pt. 2)

Previous Part:

~ Remedy* (A Mine Extra)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (If you ever need or want to be taken off, or simply excluded from certain fics like this one, please let me know!! 💞) : @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @vamprry @fdl305 @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virqinvirgo

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emthimofnight · 12 days

Text

Getting To Know You

AO3 Link:

Summary: Sonic knows Shadow as an enemy, a rival, and an ally—but a friend and co-parent? Hardly. With their newfound daughter fast asleep, Sonic takes the opportunity to get to know his other half a bit better.

“Well, Stellar is finally asleep.”

Sonic turned his head to follow the voice of his long time rival, Shadow, as he announced his entrance into the living room. He could read the exhaustion in Shadow's body language immediately, even from where he was currently seated on the couch. The game show Sonic had been watching on the TV faded into the background as his focus was drawn elsewhere.

“Oh, yeah?” He answered. “That's good. She took a while to settle down this time.”

Shadow shuffled over, grunting in half-hearted response as he unceremoniously collapsed into the couch beside Sonic. Sonic watched as Shadow craned his neck backwards, resting his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes. Now that he was closer, Sonic could clearly see how messy his quills were; something that was out of character for the black hedgehog.

Feeling brave, he reached out to pluck a loose quill from Shadow's head, flicking it away with a quick snap of his fingers. A few weeks ago, he would have surely been rewarded for such a breach of Shadow's personal space with a growl or a threat, but now all his rival could muster was a quick, non-threatening glare in his direction. Sonic smiled in return.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Stray quill.”

“You're lucky I'm tired,” Shadow grumbled, failing to sound intimidating.

“Oh, wow.” Sonic turned his body to face Shadow's more readily, the space between them thinning by a small margin. “The Ultimate Lifeform? Tired? Who are you?”

Shadow turned his head slightly in Sonic's direction, cracking a half smile. Sonic had noticed he'd been doing that more lately—smiling—and he couldn't shake the happy flutter of his heart at the sight. It was nice to get along with Shadow. As much as he enjoyed their fights, he had always wished the two of them could be friends, even in a minor capacity. Turns out, the push they needed to get along was co-parenting their illegal government experiment baby. Who knew?

“The only reason you are not tired is that I always do all the work,” Shadow replied quickly, sounding a smidgen annoyed with Sonic’s teasing, yes, but amused regardless.

“Hey, that's a low blow!” Sonic grinned. “You and I both know she likes you better. She never settles down for me!”

“That's because you spend more time goofing around with her than actually trying to put her to sleep.”

“I only try to tire her out! The kid has tons of energy!”

“You only succeed in riling her up,” Shadow retorted.

“Oh, c'mon, Shads. She loves you. I think she must have, like—imprinted on you when you pulled her outta that test tube. It's a miracle she doesn't cry whenever you leave the room anymore.”

Shadow made a soft, “hmm” in response. He seemed somewhat pleased by Sonic's admission.

“Maybe,” he said quietly. He almost seemed lost in thought for a moment, a pregnant pause hanging in the air. Sonic held his tongue, something that he was learning how to do more frequently as of late. It took him a bit to figure it out, but Shadow seems to speak his mind more often if he can just shut up and try to listen. Rewarding Sonic for a rare display of patience, Shadow continued, “It's so strange to have someone rely on you so completely.”

Shadow glanced his way, his eyes expectant. It seemed he was waiting for Sonic to interject.

Apparently, Shadow had him figured out, too.

“Yeah,” Sonic bobbed his head in a steady nod. “Honestly, I never really imagined being a dad. Never thought I’d make a good one.”

“Neither did I,” Shadow admitted. “I don’t even know if I can have children through… Conventional means, so to speak. I don’t think it was ever intended for me to be able to reproduce.”

Sonic bit his tongue, resisting the knee-jerk reaction to tease Shadow about “conventional means of reproduction” and what that might entail, knowing that would be a quick way to shut down their conversation if he wasn’t careful. He and Shadow had certainly gotten closer as a result of this parenting partnership, but there were still boundaries that weren’t meant to be crossed.

“Guess it doesn’t matter either way,” Sonic shrugged. “We’re here now, and we’ve gotta make the most of it.”

“Hmm,” Shadow hummed in agreement. “I guess so.”

For a moment, there was silence. Sonic found himself at a loss as to what he should say next, something that was happening to him more regularly in Shadow’s presence. Keeping the peace between the two of them meant he had to make an active effort not to antagonize the other hedgehog, but that also left him a bit confused as to how he should interact with him. This whole situation caused him to realize that he and Shadow rarely had regular, non-world-destroying contact, and now the guy was around all the time! He was so used to punches flying between them that casual conversation had him floundering awkwardly.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Shadow said suddenly, cutting through the haze of Sonic’s thoughts. It was like he could read his mind, sometimes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Shadow’s tone was something he couldn’t quite recognize. Shadow rolled his wrist, gesturing in circular motions with his hand, clawing at the air as if trying to conjure his thoughts into something tangible that he could grasp. “It’s… Hard to deal with.”

Sonic blinked incredulously, his surprise apparent on his features. Shadow gave him a glare and a curl of his lip, showing the pointed tip of one of his fangs, frustration creasing his brow. For once, Shadow was filling the silence between them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shadow growled.

“Wait—are you saying that you like when I talk?”

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t say that. I’m just used to you talking all the time. I don’t—” a sigh, “I’m not good with conversation.”

Sonic felt his quills prickle with a foreign sense of delight. It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but it was close enough to one that it made him a bit giddy all the same.

Sonic chuckled. “You know what’s crazy? I’ve been trying to talk less.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow, face contorting in confusion. “What? Why?”

Sonic, slightly sheepish, replied, “Well, uh… You talk more when I’m not talking, so. Been trying not to steamroll our conversations.”

Confusion still colored Shadow’s facial expression, his ruby eyes focusing on Sonic’s face. Sonic chose to admire a corner of the room instead to avoid the intensity of his stare.

“You? Trying to listen when I’m talking to you? Are you dying?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Sonic answered dryly. “Just figured if we are going to be parenting a kid together, I should probably get to know you outside of how hard you can kick me in the head.”

A snort of laughter came from Shadow, a sound that felt like a reward in its own right. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’s managed to get Shadow to laugh.

“A remarkable display of forethought for someone as impulsive as you,” Shadow teased.

“Ahh, the art of the backhanded compliment. A Shadow the Hedgehog specialty,” Sonic taunted back. “Seriously, though! Tell me your favorite color or something. For all the bad guy butt we’ve kicked together over the years, I feel like I don’t know you all that well.”

Shadow was smiling in earnest—at least, as earnest as someone like Shadow could muster. “That’s what’s top of your list? My favorite color?”

“It’s a start!” Sonic replied. “Since I know you are dying to know, mine’s red. Blue is a close second, though.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, his amusement betraying his attempt at brushing Sonic off. “Why am I not surprised…”

“C’mon, Shadow! This is what the more extroverted types call an icebreaker. Humor me?”

Shadow’s eyes were on him again, analyzing his motivations for this line of questioning silently. If there was one thing Sonic knew about Shadow, whether he decided to answer would be determined by his ego. Shadow was paused in consideration, so Sonic once again chose to wait for whatever answer Shadow would give him.

“...Green,” he said quickly, eyes drifting elsewhere as he folded his arms across his chest.

Sonic felt his pulse quicken with excitement. Shadow was actually entertaining his attempt to know more about him! He never thought he’d find the idea of knowing his rival’s favorite color so appealing.

“So you do have one! I was prepared for you to tell me you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” Shadow quickly asserted. “But,” he continued, “if I had to pick, green is probably it.”

“Cool,” Sonic said softly, the knowledge of Shadow’s favorite color finding a happy little spot to nest in his brain. “How about, uh… Weather? Do you have a favorite kind of weather?”

Shadow gave him a put-upon frown. “Are you going to keep asking me dumb questions?”

“You’re allowed to ask me dumb questions too, you know,” Sonic reminded.

“Bold of you to assume I have any.”

Sonic smirked, “I’m sure you do.”

Shadow let out a bark of dry laughter, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

In a moment of honesty, Sonic replied, “Yeah, man. I would.”

Shadow stared back in silent reply, his eyes scanning Sonic’s face for any signs of deception or trickery. He clearly hadn’t expected that answer.

“...Spring weather is nice.”

Sonic perked up. “You don’t mind the rain?”

Shadow seemed almost sheepish, suddenly. One of his ears twitched in agitation, a growl escaping his lips. If Sonic had to guess, Shadow didn’t appreciate Sonic’s prodding for a deeper explanation. Even so, he still made the choice to answer, “I… Like the flowers, I guess. Maria liked flowers.”

Ah. Maria. The main reason for a lot of the things Shadow did.

“That’s a pretty good reason,” Sonic smiled, his tone of voice gentle. “Perfect weather for a long run.”

Shadow peered at him out of the corner of his eye. “What about you?”

“A nice sunny day with a good breeze is killer,” Sonic answered. “Man, I just love the feeling of the wind in my quills, yanno?”

Shadow nodded, humming in agreement. Despite the tension in his shoulders, he did seem to soften slightly as their conversation went on. It might just be a result of his exhaustion, but he seemed less rigid than usual.

“I suppose I should ask you a question, then,” Shadow said, his voice almost sounding a bit amused. He shot Sonic a knowing look, clearly recognizing his interest would get a reaction out of him.

He wasn't wrong, Sonic couldn't manage to stifle the smile that broke out across his face.

“Yeah, feel free!” Sonic encouraged, “I'm an open book.”

Shadow was staring at him again, and for a moment Sonic wondered if he had managed to scare him off from asking his question. Shadow didn't leave him hanging for long, though.

“...Why did you agree to this?”

Sonic blinked incredulously. Leave it to Shadow to ask the hard questions.

“Like… What? This game, or…?”

“Stellar,” Shadow affirmed. “Why did you agree to help me with Stellar?”

Sonic leaned back into the couch, scratching at his chin with a gloved finger. “Hmm. Good question.”

Why did he agree to this? He'd never really wanted kids, and he certainly never imagined having them with his rival. It was a concept that was so far outside the realm of possibility that to say the whole scenario blindsided him would be an understatement.

“…Well, it’s the right thing to do, for one. I could tell that you were kind of at a loss as to what you should do with her. You so rarely ask for help—especially from me—that I had to give it a try. Besides, you and I have overcome all kinds of crazy challenges in the past, how hard could this be?”

“It's by no means easy,” Shadow thought aloud. “But… It is easier than it would be if I were doing this alone, so. I suppose I should thank you for that.”

Sonic felt his heart do something funny in his chest. It reminded him of the sensation he'd get right before a roller coaster hit its first drop. He suddenly felt the urge to go on a run.

“Did you just thank me? You sure you don't have a fever or something?” Sonic teased. Even now, as he finally managed to earn genuine answers from his rival, he couldn’t stop himself from defaulting back to their usual banter.

To his surprise, Shadow didn’t growl, glare, or move to swat at him with his hand. Instead, he let out a short chuff of laughter, his gaze drifting away and up towards the ceiling.

“I must,” Shadow sighed, not sounding all that bothered. “Or maybe I’m just more tired than I thought.”

Sonic smiled, his expression softening as he observed the other hedgehog. His posture was uncharacteristically relaxed, his body succumbing to the comforts of the couch. Even the Ultimate Lifeform couldn’t fight the exhaustion that came with caring for a fussy baby day in and day out, it seemed. Granted, most baby hedgehogs weren’t capable of teleporting on a whim. Perhaps their unique circumstances were what truly crumbled Shadow’s typical unyielding resolve.

“Take it easy, then,” Sonic said gently. “Catch some Z’s while you can.”

Shadow turned his cheek slightly, peeking at Sonic suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. He was clearly looking for an ulterior motive etched into Sonic’s features.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Sonic protested. “I’m serious. I’m not going to mess with you while you sleep, and if Stellar wakes up, I can handle it!”

“I don’t trust you to handle anything,” Shadow muttered, lacking the usual bite in his words.

“Hey,” Sonic half-laughed, “you could try.”

“Hmm,” a hum of consideration. “For once, I think I might be too tired to argue with you.”

“That makes it sound like you enjoy it.”

“You’re delusional,” Shadow smirked before turning his face skyward once more, this time allowing his eyes to drift closed. “I’ll just rest my eyes for now. If you try anything, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sonic replied, shifting his weight a bit to get more comfortable in his own position. “I’ll just be thinking of more questions to annoy you with while you recharge.”

When his teasing wasn’t met with a response, Sonic allowed himself to observe the other hedgehog more freely. It was easier to absorb Shadow’s features when he wasn’t sitting on the other end of his intense stare.

‘He couldn’t have fallen asleep that quickly, could he?’ Sonic pondered, peering at the remarkably relaxed face of his fellow co-parent. His breathing was slow and steady, his chest rising with every breath, making the snowy poof of hair that resided there a distraction for Sonic’s eyes. He was never able to grow any fur on his own chest—at least, not to that length—so he had always found himself a bit fascinated with the singular spot of white on the other hedgehog. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, of course.

For a brief moment, he considered what it might feel like to touch the silky-looking tufts of fur, before quickly stamping that thought right back down where it came from. Sonic might be an adrenaline junkie, sure, but he certainly didn’t have a death wish. Without thinking, though, he must have drifted a bit closer into Shadow’s space, because he was soon met with that annoyed ruby glare once more.

“What?” Shadow growled, his hostile edge returning to his voice as his suspicion in Sonic was heightened.

Sonic moved away quickly, letting out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I thought for a second you’d already fallen asleep,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was just a bit amazed, is all. Made me realize that I haven’t really seen you sleep before.”

Shadow rolled his eyes before closing them once more, shimmying his shoulders a bit to settle deeper into the couch cushions. “I’m not going to sleep at all if you keep staring at me like that. Watch your stupid show.”

Sonic blinked, turning his head back to the TV he had been watching before Shadow had entered the room. Right. He’d actually been paying attention to that before he found himself distracted with Shadow’s presence. He wasn’t actually sure what was going on with it anymore, but it was a welcome escape from his own impulses to pester Shadow. It wasn’t like he actually wanted to bother the guy, it was just hard to adjust his behavior to fit their new normal. He was so used to their relationship being full of banter and petty competitions that he didn’t know how to just exist around the guy.

He stole a quick glance in Shadow’s direction before refocusing on the television. From Shadow’s aloofness, it seemed he didn’t know how to exist around him, either.

The silence between them was filled with the sounds of mindless reality TV entertainment, and Sonic felt himself slowly starting to relax. He hadn’t really noticed before, but his own guard was up when Shadow was around, too. It might not be the same kind of hostility that Shadow displayed, but it was still there. He might have asked Shadow to trust him, but that didn’t mean he trusted Shadow.

He felt a tiny pang of guilt—what for, he wasn’t exactly sure. Yes, he’d always wished he and Shadow could get along, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the thrill of fighting with him. Being the fastest thing alive meant he was often leaving others behind, but that wasn’t the case with Shadow. Shadow was one of—if not the only—person that could keep up with him. If they became friends, did that mean Shadow would stop chasing him? Would he stop trying to surpass him? He wasn’t entirely sure he was willing to give that thrill up just yet.

A soft, unfamiliar noise pulled Sonic from the depths of his thoughts. His ear twitched, finding the sound was coming from the black hedgehog that rested beside him. Did he just—?

A rasping exhalation of breath from Shadow’s nostrils confirmed it. Shadow the Hedgehog, the Ultimate Lifeform, was snoring. Not the kind of snore that was disruptive or cacophonous, but the sort that was soft, rumbling, and endearing. Sonic almost couldn’t believe his ears.

A smile wormed its way onto his face as he observed Shadow in his slumber, a newfound fondness settling in his chest at the sight.

‘Just going to rest your eyes, huh?’ He thought to himself, amused.

Maybe he and Shadow’s relationship was going to be different from now on, but perhaps that didn’t have to be a bad thing. If the giddy feeling in his chest was any indication, there might be some thrills to find in this new alliance after all.

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katz-chow · 8 months

Note

hiiii, i love your writing so much <33 can you do a cod ghost x afab reader where maybe ghost gets emotional while they’re being intimate with each other? (in a good way, he’s overwhelmed with how close they are and how gentle the reader is being.) reader stops and comforts him and he gets very verbally vulnerable which is rare for him. i guess this would be sort of a fluff hurt/comfort sort of thing? preferably a shortfic, but you can make it long if you want to (i just wanna give simon a hug :((( )

heaven's outreached hands

synopsis: after a long, long time, simon has decided that in the warm glow of your shared lamp in your shared bedroom, that he wants to feel you and truly take back what is his: his body aka: what the ask said!

warnings: smut, hurt/comfort, allusions to prior SA, gn!reader, mentions of attempted suicide/OD, mentions of depressive episodes

a/n: i, too, want to give this poor man a hug as i've said in my previous fic with him. maybe this is our hug to him...honestly, i needed this hurt/comfort more than i thought i did. thanks anon for this!! so sorry this took longer than i expected, i got sick :(

Dating Simon is a test of your patience and determination. And you took on that responsibility like the champ you are. He made it clear when you had first started seeing each other that he’s not…a typical partner, that he needs you to be patient with him, and be gentle with him.

And so you did, You did everything you could, letting him have a few days to himself after every time he came back from his mission. You cooked for him when he could only make cup noodles for himself every few days or so. You even made him take vitamin supplements and locked up his meds, coming over to his flat every day to give him his dose. He loves you for everything you’ve done for him, so he saved up and asked you to live with him.

It’s been months and he’s been acting weird around you, more shy than usual and almost hesitant. He lays next to you in bed, a hand caressing yours as you smile at him—nothing but the warm sheets and his fingers dancing around yours.

“Lovie…there’s something I’ve…wanted to ask you,” He started slowly, again with that hesitant tone filling his voice.

You smiled at him, holding onto his finger as a sign of comfort, urging him on. “What is it?”

He pulled you closer to him by your hand and you agreed, shuffling under the covers to get closer to him. He whispered, taking your hand and kissing it, “I want to try and…get intimate with you.”

You’ve both talked about this before, having sex that is. And the most he’s ever told you was that he doesn’t have a good relationship with sex or anything regarding that. You held his hand and sat across from him, listening and telling him. You both decided to wait a while longer until he was sure he was willing and okay with it; you assured him you could wait. And you did. And he was okay with it now.

“Are you sure, baby?” You asked him gently, your thumb rubbing his hand and then sliding up slowly, hovering near his cheek.

He looked at you, anticipating your touch against his cool skin. Your gentle fingers brushed against his skin softly, he let out a downturned smile. “Yeah…I am. Is that okay with you?”

You nod, letting your hand fall entirely onto his cheek, fingertips messing with his growing blonde hair. You told him you liked his hair, he grew it out for you.

He smiled and pulled you close with a strong arm, kissing your lips lightly. You leaned into him, allowing him to kiss you with more rigor. Simon’s arms snaked around your waist and hoisted you up and over him, teasing at the hem of your shirt. You pulled away from him and took it off, allowing him to take in full view of your bare chest.

Eyes gazed up at you, glossy, adoring, and lustful, a way you’ve never seen them before. “You’re so beautiful, Lovie.”

“I wish you could see yourself in the same way my eyes do.”

You’ve lost track of time with him, the way he carves you with his soft, but powerful grip on the flush of your skin. The warmth of his cock, slowly dragging against your slick, velvety walls. It was different; it was gentle. He whispers against your ear in between his groans and grunts when you squeeze around him. Simon chants “I love you”s like it’s a prayer against the newfound gloss of both your skins.

He had you straddling him, your chest in his face, as he gripped your hips, guiding you down unto him. Big arms wrap around your waist, his face burying into your stomach. Your hands raked through his hair, holding onto him while you bounced on his stiff cock. But soon, you felt him tremble underneath you, and a small “you okay?” made its way out of your mouth.

Simon looked up at you, tears prickling his eyes, “Lovie…”

You gasped as you lifted yourself off of him, his arms still loose, but against your skin nonetheless, allowing you to sit on his thighs. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He gasped as small tears fell from his eyes. Like his hero, your thumbs wiped them off as you held his face. “It just…feels good with you.”

Your face falls and you give him a slight grin, “Aw baby, I know…I know.” You cooed at him, getting him to chuckle and hide his face into your neck.

“Feels different with you, ‘m not used to it,” he sighs, letting you pet his hair. You kept your promise with him, you weren’t fast and rough, using him like he’d fear. You treated him like porcelain, not just some toy for your own pleasure. “Not like…like before. Wanted it this time.”

It clicks in your head what he was saying and you can hear your heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. He feels warm underneath your touch like he burns for you. You provide, he hesitantly takes. “I’m so sorry, Si…I didn’t know.” “It’s alright, I like this.” He pulls you in close to him, breathing in your familiar scent. “Love you…and your smell.”

Simon is here with you, truly here with you. His mind and body and spirit and all that he has is displayed for you to consume as yours. No longer will he recoil at the slightest of touches, flinch at an outreached hand when he’s naked of his gear, no, he’ll accept you as you accepted him.

“I’m not scared of you, Lovie, never will be.”

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Text

Adam had never known someone to have unwavering patience like you had.

No question or inquiry Adam had was deemed too absurd nor too dumb for you to answer whilst also giving him the room for him to come up with his own verdicts based on his personal experiences.

However there was something that still eludes the seemingly perfect being and that happened to be the emotions he felt within your presence that only seemed to linger long after you were out of his sight; Which in due to his need to look out and protect you from practically everything he deemed a threat, was almost nigh impossible.

Adam wasn’t exactly certain what they meant in the grander scheme of things but in those moment where it’s just you and him, he couldn’t help but put all his focus on how you made him feel and it was confusing in the most beautiful way. You took up a majority of his thoughts that throughout the day Adam would wonder what you were doing, where you were and if you were okay, if you were with anyone and finally Adam would wonder if there was a slight possibility that you were thinking about him also.

Sure, it may sound childish of him to wish that you were, but to Adam it would only further prove that you may be fated to one another. The thought of that being the case brought a weird warm sensation that of which spread throughout his body as he rested his hand against his chest, while he looked down at it with the expression of a confused child; Adam was in dire need of your wisdom but unfortunately by the time he came to you for it, you were more then just about ready to hit the hay.

‘Y/n, I apologise for the intrusion but I have an serious matter I wish to discuss with you that can not wait, if you’ll be so kind as to hear me out.’ You sighed, really wanting nothing more then to go to sleep but but considering the look upon his handsome face, you made an exception. You sat on the edge of your bed, gesturing him to take a seat beside you, which Adam did post haste, remembering to leave some room between you both. ‘What’s up Adam, what did you want to discuss?’ You asked.

‘How do you know when you feel something so strongly for someone that they just take over your every thought and what is is called because I’ve been feeling this way for a while now and I’m at a loss as to what to make of it all.’ Adam says, looking at you expectedly like he always did; He was always one to value knowledge above all things, seeing as he was already quite powerful. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder whether or not you had something to do with these feelings he’s been feeling so strongly lately; Considering you were practically the only person he’s been within the company of, to the point where it has became a running gag amongst your friends that where’d you went, Adam wasn’t too far behind like a lost duckling.

‘What is it that you feel Adam, is it a good feeling or a bad feeling that you have about this person?’ You asked.

‘They’re on my mind as though my mind was built with the sole purpose of thinking of them and only them,’ Adam begins but as he does so, a smile stretched across his lips as a soft expression permeates his face. ‘From the light of the morning to nightfall, I’m wondering where they are, worried if they were in need of me but I just can’t hear them, can’t be there with them when they need me most, and mostly…I wonder if they think about me as much as I think about them because they are very special to me…so much so that I couldn’t fathom existing without them.’ Adam finishes before placing his hand over your own. ‘You are very special to me y/n. You’re the one I think about.’

Having already expected this being the case, you still were somehow taken aback but that was short lived compared to the overwhelming relief that your feelings weren’t as one sided as you assumed. You smiled softly at Adam before intertwining your fingers with his, grasping into him tightly, as though afraid of letting him go now that you got him. ‘You’re feeling love Adam.’ You explained. ‘And love is the most powerful, most important feeling you could ever feel because it comes in all forms, all of which are just as equally powerful as the last. It’s an all consuming feeling that can make one act upon irrational but sometimes acting upon that irrationality does one good but at the end of the day, love is a power that has yet to meet it’s match.’ You finalised, hoping to have gotten the point across clear enough for him to understand.

Adam made a face and sat in silence for a few minutes and once those minutes were up, the smile and soft expression came back as he once again looked at you as though he could see all of you. ‘Does this feeling mean that I am in love with you?’ He asks. ‘And do you feel the same way?’ He adds on almost hopefully that you couldn’t help but chuckle before leaning in to press an innocent kiss to his golden cheek. ‘Was that enough confirmation?’ You inquired as you watched Adam blink twice as he raised a hand to touch the cheek you just kissed.

‘It’s more then enough.’ He tells you. ‘Thank you.’

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #Adam warlock imagine #Adam warlock imagines #mcu x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu fic #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x you #marvel fic #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel imagines #marvel fanfic

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ivystoryweaver · 10 months

Note

Would you mind writing a Miguel x f!reader fic where they are in a relationship and the reader is captured by a villain who's goal is to torture and ultimately kill her to gain information on the spider society? While the reader is missing and enduring the torture, she finds out from the villain that she's pregnant. Angst, hurt/comfort

I'm sorry this took so long, this idea is so freaking rad, i needed some time. I gave it a try!

Content: Hurt/comfort etc. See the ask above. Cursing, torture, injury, blood, pregnancy, violence

Word count: 2k

My Masterlist

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Your eyes slowly blinked open, heavy with exhaustion and burning as if you'd slept in contact lenses for a week.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Your body ached. You felt cold. And wet? Why did you feel clammy in your own bed?

Drip. Drip...

Shifting uncomfortably, you found that your arms wouldn't move. Why couldn't you move your arms? A small whimper escaped your throat as your reality became plain to you.

This was not your bed. It was dark. Damp. And your arms and legs were bound. You were tied to a hard, metal chair. Panic spiked through your chest as you struggled against your restraints.

Squinting, you attempted to make out any details about your surroundings, but it was too dark.

"H-hello?" You rasped, finding your voice. You coughed, your voice hoarse from lack of use and from a terrible thirst. "Hello?" You tried again, pulling forcefully on your restraints.

As your breathing grew more shallow, you realized you were most certainly in trouble.

But why?

"I see you're awake."

You let out a small yelp when a sinister voice made itself known as someone emerged from the deep, shadowed corner.

"W-who are you?" You cried, squirming in futility. "Where am I?"

"Patience," the voice chided.

Your eyes strained but you still couldn't see.

"I have a few questions for you." The voice was male. Deep. That's all you could tell in the darkness.

"What?" You coughed out, desperate for water. "What do you want with me?"

No matter how you struggled, blinking, staring - your eyes would not adjust to the darkness.

You smelled his foul breath before you felt it brush your ear from behind you, caging you in with sickening possessiveness. "Tell me about the Spider Society."

Whimpering, you tried to shake him off you. "I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go."

You definitely knew what he was talking about. Your husband was the damn leader of it all.

He moved in closer, the stench of him making your skin crawl and your stomach churn. "We both know that's not true...Mrs. O'Hara."

Okay, that was more privileged information. Miguel at least attempted to keep his real name a secret.

You chomped down on your lip to keep from giving anything away but the bile in your stomach was not cooperating. You weren't sure what could possibly be worse than losing your stomach contents while bound, in some unknown, pitch black location.

"Not feeling so well, are we?" The voice taunted, after you wretched pitifully. "Maybe you have the flu?"

"Leave me alone," you spat, wiping your mouth the best you could manage with your shoulder.

After a long pause, the mysterious man granted your wish.

You were left in darkness - hungry, thirsty, cold and bound.

The biggest question besides where were you, and who had taken you was - how would you get out of here? Would Miguel be able to find you? You would die before endangering him or any of his friends or co-workers.

The man who had taken you must have realized this about you, and began to test your resolve.

You lost track of time. In the darkness, it could have been days that passed, or mere hours. It took some time for you to realize that you were being tortured - just not in the traditional slice-and-dice or head-dunked-in-water type of way.

They left you alone. Dark. Isolated. Then, without warning, some sort of bright light would shine on you - the brightest you'd ever seen. It burned red-orange right through your eyelids no matter how tightly you squeezed your eyes shut.

Your skin prickled with heat and you started to sweat. Just as you felt you would burn alive, the light would shut off. You cried out, blinded as colorful spots swirled before your eyes, making your stomach roil.

The darkness would consume you until you were freezing again. Then it would start over. Blinging light, blinding darkness. Over and over. Questions about your husband. And the other Spiders. It felt like a month had passed, it was so never-ending.

They tried to feed you but you couldn't keep anything down. You felt constantly sick. Someone even cleaned you up several times, since you weren't allowed the use of a restroom.

Finally, a needle was jabbed roughly into your arm, making you whimper in protest. Maybe it was poison. Probably for the best.

"Fluids," the voice informed. "Can't have Mrs. O'Hara dehydrated, can we?"

"Go to hell!" You weakly shouted. "I have nothing to tell you."

"You're lying," the man sneered, sickening you by brushing your matted hair away from your face with calloused fingertips. "You're going to tell me about your husband, I promise you."

You spat in his face, though your dehydration didn't afford you very much spit to begin with.

"I know you think you're strong," he taunted, pushing his disgusting hand over your abdomen, making your skin crawl. It was humiliating enough that people were cleaning up your messes, and now he wanted to touch you?

Miguel would rip him apart.

"I wasn't sure at first, why you can't keep any food down," he went on, rubbing your stomach possessively. "You're not sick - we tested for that."

"You...what?" You groaned, completely revolted at the feel of this man's hand, and the thought of him running some sort of tests on you.

His foul breath tickled your ear as he pushed two fingers hard into your abdomen. "You don't seem to respond well to our...techniques." He menacingly breathed. "But maybe you'll change your mind to protect your child."

Shuddering, your body went limp as tears stung your eyes. "I have no children. If you know who I am, then you know that."

Pressing your abdomen forcefully, he made you gasp in pain. "You do now." Then he nuzzled your ear. "That's why I'm giving you fluids. Can't let anything happen to your unborn child. Especially one that's half-spider."

"No!" You wailed, jerking against his hold on you. "No, I'm not! I'm not..." Tears spilled down your cheeks as you realized the truth. The nausea, the fatigue - your period was late. "No..." you whimpered.

"You know I'm right," the voice taunted. "And now that you know, I'm sure you'll be much more cooperative."

After that encounter, you were released from your bonds, given the chance to shower and change clothes. You actually attempted to choke down a meal as well.

Then it got worse. True, there was no more light/dark torture. And you weren't left in the freezing cold, but now the questions were asked with a knife to your abdomen. This was after you were shown proof of your pregnancy. A rapid heartbeat. A positive blood and urine test.

Miguel wanted to be a father so badly and you had tried for almost three years. Hell, his very favorite activity was trying to get you pregnant. He kept better track of your cycle than you did, and trying, if nothing else, had been a delicious endeavor.

So, if anything happened to this baby - if you let anything happen, Miguel would be devastated. But you couldn't endanger his life, nor anyone in the Spider Society. Despair filled your heart and mind as a choice placed itself before you.

Days upon days must have passed. You managed to not answer any important questions, but you paid like hell for it. Tiny cuts littered your body. The mysterious man used the knife, but thankfully, not anywhere near your abdomen.

Until one day, he did.

You cried and you begged, but because you wouldn't answer him, he did the unthinkable.

That was the worst mistake he ever made.

Now that you knew he was willing to hurt your unborn child and likely had already done so, there was no way you would ever talk.

"My husband will rip your fucking throat out," you croaked as warm blood pooled in the waistband of your pants, dripping down your legs.

"Like the vampire he is," the man sneered. "I know what he is. A monster."

"You're damn straight," you panted, feeling weak from blood loss. "He's going to use his talons to do everything you've done to me, cut for cut. You'll wish you were dead, I promise you."

"At least I'll die knowing I took his child from him," he darkly laughed. "If he ever finds you - which will never happen."

"Don't be so sure, pinche pendejo," the voice of your husband pierced the darkness.

Your entire body gave out, not only from exhaustion and blood loss but from overwhelming relief. A door was flung open and light was able to spill into the room.

"H-how did you..." the mysterious man croaked, calling out for his comrades.

Gripping him by the throat, Miguel lifted him several inches off the floor. "Spiders love the dark." Raising his free arm - talons fully extended, Miguel tore into the man's flesh, rapidly slicing him to ribbons, before doing just what you predicted. Baring his fangs, Miguel sank his teeth into the man's throat and ripped out his jugular.

The man's limp body dropped to the floor, making you whimper in relief...and honestly, a little bit of horror.

Whirling around, Miguel used the sleeve of his spider suit to wipe the blood from his chin before dropping to his knees.

Crimson eyes scanning you frantically, he didn't know where to touch you first.

"Baby? Baby are you hurt?" His hands flew all over you, stopping when his fingers grazed your abdomen.

"Miguel," you whimpered, hands pressing as hard as you could manage into your knife wound. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and sticky.

"I've got you, honey, hold on," he soothed, easily lifting your much smaller frame into his arms.

"More of them," you murmured, collapsing against his chest, the solid warmth of him the first relief you'd felt in days. "There are more..."

"They're dead," he answered you, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. "You're safe, mi vida."

"My stomach," you slurred, feeling consciousness slip away from you. "M-my baby..."

"Hold on, baby, hold on," Miguel whispered, gripping you tightly.

"Miguel...I'm sorry."

That was the last thing you remembered.

The next time you awakened, you didn't know where you were. Panic snaked its way around your heart until your eyes landed on the sleeping form of your husband, adorably cramped in a chair beside your bed.

Stupidly attempting to sit up, you winced, feeling the sting in your abdomen. Then you remembered - you had been stabbed. Multiple times - but those were shallow, feeble attempts to get you to talk. But then he tried to kill you. And your baby.

Fear gripped your heart, squeezing the breath out of you as you yanked your blankets away, pulling up the soft gown you wore to try and see...

"Hey, hey, it's okay."

Miguel was suddenly awake and at your side, gently grasping your arms to stop your flailing. "You'll rip your stitches."

"My baby," you gasped, your chest heaving with shallow breaths as you fruitlessly fought the massive strength of your husband's grip.

"Calm down, honey, please." Forcing your arms still, he eased onto the edge of the bed, holding you still. Dropping his forehead to yours, his heart shattered at the sight of your tears.

"I'm so sorry," you whimpered, even as he shushed you soothingly. "My baby - "

"Is fine," Miguel swore, reaching up to tenderly caress your cheek. Easing back, his scarlet gaze locked onto yours and he nodded reassuringly - the faintest smile brightening his eyes. "Our baby is okay. Strong heartbeat. You're eleven weeks along."

Shaking your head in disbelief, your lip trembled. "But - but he stabbed me. He tried to kill my baby..."

"I know, sweetheart," Miguel soothed, gingerly pulling you into his arms. "I know he hurt you. I'm sorry. So sorry." Rocking you slowly in his protective embrace, he pressed a fierce kiss to your temple. "You're safe now. You and our baby. I promise you."

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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springcourtrose · 2 months

Text

Please, stop... | Part 3

Pairing: Helion x reader (x Nessian)

Warnings: smut - mentions of abusive relationship and SA - MINORS DNI

Prompt: you’re Nesta and Cassian’s mate and yet you are so different from them. From day 1 you tried to be a good mate and do as they wanted and liked but they like it rough and you just don’t. Not only is it not enjoyable for you, it is actually painful. And not just in bed. You always excused their behavior as being overprotective but recently you started calling it something else: controlling. And one night, all changed as you uttered the words you had tried so hard never to say, but always thinking if you ever did they would listen. But they didn’t. And that night, everything broke.

(A/N: English isn't my first language)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Helion had promised himself three things:

He'd make Cassian and Nesta pay for ever hurting you.

He'd tell Rhys exactly what he thought of his 'court of dreams'.

He would make you happy again.

And he would stop at nothing to make the latter happen sooner rather than later.

He hadn't left your side ever since you woke up. He had looked after you and seen you through the withering until he was satisfied you weren't going to die from it. He had wiped away all of your tears. He had held you as you cried. Had comforted you when your thoughts took you in deep and dark places.

To his relief, you didn't show anymore sign of withering after the first day. He hadn't asked but you knew he knew. He knew you hadn't destroyed the bond completely.

That one thin thread remained. Neither of you spoke of it. You didn't even want to think about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to shut your mates off completely. To say goodbye to them forever. Perhaps that made you an idiot, or weak, but you just couldn't do it. And Helion never made you feel bad about it.

You had lost track of time. Helion had made it so easy. He had food brought to his chambers and he ate every single meal with you in his bed. He had made everything available to you. You were never alone, if only for one hour every day to allow you to bathe and for him to see to his duties. But when you got out of the bathroom, he was there, waiting for you. Every time.

That was when you had first smiled at him. Your first smile since...

You had found him on his bed, waiting for you with a plate of sweets. The sight had filled you with a warm joy. It had made you feel like the luckiest female in Prythian. The smile he gave you in return had healed a small part of you. You had felt it in your chest.

You laid in his bed, feeling content and at peace. He was lying on his side next to you, one arm propped on his elbow, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. The first time he had done so, you had burst into tears after a few minutes. You had never shared such a moment with Cassian and Nesta. They had never showed you such gentleness and patience. You had apologized to Helion for it, but he only kissed the tears away and made you promise never to apologize for crying again.

The feeling of his lips on your skin had sparked something in you. Something you had never felt before. A craving. You craved his touch and presence. You had never craved for anyone in this way. Not even your mates. No. You had feared and avoided them. And deep down you knew you would never fear or avoid him.

Slowly, you brought a hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes and hummed as you touched him.

"Thank you, Helion."

"Mmh, do not thank me, my moonshine. I am a selfish male."

"Why?"

"Because I wished for this. I've been wishing for this since the first time I met you."

His confession startled you. But only for a moment.

"I wished they were more like you. When I went back to them after our days here together. I wished they would be as nice and gentle as you. But they never ever asked me about my day. You asked. You wanted to know everything. You cared."

"I care," he nodded, taking your hand in his and bringing your knuckles to his lips. "I've always cared and I always will."

Tears filled your eyes as you inhaled deeply.

"I know," you smiled sadly, a tear finding its way onto your cheek. "I felt so horrible when I went back. Because I didn't feel safe there, but I felt safe here, with you."

"My love," he smiled back, resting his forehead against yours. "I will always keep you safe."

"Show me," you said and he blinked. "Show me, Helion. Show me how gentle you are. Show me how you'll always care for me."

"Are... are you sure?"

"Yes, Helion, yes. Please. I want to be yours. Only yours."

He growled. "Mine? As you wish, my love."

He wasted no more time as he claimed your lips and it was like being kissed for the first time. His hands and fingers traveled on your body, worshipping your skin, his tongue brushed yours and you moaned as you opened your mouth to him. There was no fear when he touched you. No tear when he undressed you. Slowly, gently, whispering sweet nothings, and it was everything.

"Are you certain?" he asked again and you nodded. "Words, my love."

"Yes," you breathed and he rewarded you by pushing two fingers inside of you. The feeling amazed you. The lack of pain surprised you.

You moaned as he moved his fingers deeper, searching, not for his pleasure, but for yours. You had never known it could be like this. His lips never left your skin. He kissed your forehead, your nose, you chin, then both of your cheeks before moving down to your throat, your neck, your breasts. You called his name as you felt your climax approach.

"Please," you begged.

"Please, what, my love?"

"May I... come, please..."

You felt him freeze but only for a second. You forgot about it the second he started moving his fingers again.

"You can come whenever you're ready, my moonshine," he encouraged you, running a thumb over your clit, "my beautiful love," he whispered before pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

Your orgasm came mercifully. And you actually enjoyed it, for once. He kissed you through it, didn't stop kissing you afterwards.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," you smiled shyly at him. "I'm really good."

"Good," he grinned as he leaned to capture your lips once more.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and you turned red as he hummed and he licked them clean.

"You taste absolutely divine, my love. Will you allow me to taste you some more?"

"Wh- what about you?"

"What about me?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it... your turn?"

"My turn? No, moonshine, this is all about you," he said, leaning over to kiss your face once more. "I won't if you don't want me to, I won't be mad, I promise," he added as he felt your hesitation.

"Okay."

"Okay? Should we stop?"

"No, I mean, yes, we can keep going."

"Are you sure?"

You gave him a small smile then took his face in your hands and kissed him.

"I'm sure," you assured him.

He smirked. "Then open your legs for me, my love."

And for the first in your life, you happily obeyed that command.

Tags: @chessebookgirl @impossibelle @esposadomd @saltedcoffeescotch

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #helion x reader #helion #nessian #nesta x cassian #Cassian x nesta

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indigogvf · 5 months

Text

Need

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of SA!!! smut (minors dni), alcohol. If I missed anything please let me know!

Summary: You and Jake have never seen eye to eye, but when a guy creeps you out at his house party, does that change?

A/N: awful summary lol sorry I’m so tired and have been wanting to post this for ages. This is not as good as I wanted it to be, or as long, but I do not have the patience for that. For some reason the ideas were just not flowing for this fic, so I feel like it’s kinda jumpy. Sorry about that!! Also, my requests are open!! Anyway, enough of me yapping. Enjoy!!

This was not your thing; parties. It’s not that you hated them, but a nine pm bed time meant a lot more to you. Drinking made you sleepy. However, parties are especially not your thing when Jake is there. Even more so when they’re hosted at his house.

Much like tonight.

You can’t deny Josh’s puppy dog eyes for very long though, and you weren’t going to let one person ruin your night. He’s hosting the party anyway, so he has much more important things to worry about than trying to piss you off. You thought.

You thought wrong. As always.

The night begun smoothly. You felt confident and sexy, your dress hugging you in all the right places. You weren’t planning on getting into anyones pants tonight, but it felt nice to know you could. With that being said, you also felt nervous. You and Jake couldn’t get along at all; you can be civil when needs be, but it never lasts long. If you can’t get along sober, you doubt adding copious amounts of alcohol is going to have a positive impact.

You made your rounds of everyone, making sure to say hi to the people you knew; also making sure to keep well away from Jake. You and Jake have been holding the battle of “who can be the meanest” for quite some time now, and you honestly can’t even remember how it started, but you strongly disliked him. You’re both extremely stubborn, so as much as you feel bad for feuding with your best friends’ brother, you wouldn’t be caught dead making amends. And neither would he.

Obviously your first point of call after saying hello was getting yourself a nice, strong drink. A necessity, in your opinion. Definitely a necessity when jake’s around. You’d already lost Josh, who you came with, and you were now left to fend for yourself. You did know a good amount of people, but everyone knew everyone else more than you knew them, so you weren’t really sure where to start.

You wondered back to the main event, scouring the room for someone you know well enough to join their conversation. As you were looking around, you caught the eyes of Jake. His shirt was buttoned up by two buttons, max. You couldn’t quite see due to the darkness of the room. Speaking of, he’s wearing sunglasses. What a douchebag you thought. I mean, seriously? Sunglasses? In an almost pitch black room?

His hair was falling nicely, though. The sunglasses were giving his hair something to flow against, and it was framing his face well. It doesn’t matter how much you hate him, you will always be jealous of his hair.

He smirks at you, mischief written all over his face. You roll your eyes and move on. You promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with Jake tonight, and you really did feel bad. You know how hard it is for them to navigate this.

However, Jake had other intentions. He started walking over; you knew you were well within your rights to walk away, but you also knew that this would happen at some point, so you might as well get it over and done with.

“You look cute.” He mentioned sarcastically, gesturing to your dress.

“Thanks. Wish I could say the same about you.” You retorted with an eye roll, taking a step away from him. You wanted as much distance between you as possible.

“Oh, c’mon. You and I both know you like what you see.” He suggested with a cocky smirk, pointing at himself. He took a step closer, closing the space between you that you had just made.

“Seriously? You have that big of an ego? Take a look at yourself for once. You’re wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Could you look like more of a dick?” You replied, taking a sip of your drink. You knew he enjoyed this a lot more than you did; you were easier to piss off.

“Look at myself? Look at you! You look like you’re begging to take someone home in that dress.” He laughed, throwing his head back. ‘Always so dramatic’ you thought.

“Yeah? Well at least I could take someone home if I wanted to, which I don’t, for the record. You can’t, not when you look like as much of an uptight prick as you.” You argued. You felt like steam was coming out of your ears. He always had to dig deep. Every time.

He began responding, but you had already started walking away. Like you said, you’d promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with him tonight, so you really didn’t want it to go any further.

You spot danny and Sam and take this opportunity to distract yourself. “hey guys, you having fun?” You asked as you waved at them.

“Hey y/n, did Josh ditch you? Already?” Sam queried, turning to face you. Danny sniggered beside him in response.

“Well, yeah. But I promise that’s not why I came to chat.” You knew that whatever Sam was suggesting was just a joke, but you also knew that if Josh hadn’t of ditched you, the overwhelming joy you felt when you saw them probably wouldn’t have been as intense.

“Yeah, whatever. How’s things with Jake? I see you’ve continued your feud.” Danny joined, subtly looking over to Sam. They know exactly how to wind you up. You will never understand how they find the humour in this situation; if it was the other way round, you would’ve grown impatient a long time ago.

“Yeah, but that’s done for the night. I’m really not in the mood for it to carry on tonight.” You said as you grabbed your drink to take another sip, taking a seat next to danny.

“Are you ever in the mood for jake, though? You say that every time, and every time the feud continues.” Sam giggled.

“You know, he’s right. How did this ‘feud’ even start? I can’t quite remember.” Danny said. Him and Sam were now laughing a little too hard considering how unfunny their comments were. At least you didn’t find them funny.

“You know what guys, maybe I will carry it on. Just for you.” You remarked, pointing your finger at both of them to further emphasis your point.

“Oh, we would love to see that.” Laughed Danny, turning to face you completely.

“Maybe you should just fuck it out. I mean, if all of our mutual friends can agree on that, maybe we’re right.” Sam added, without laughing. He was serious. He seriously suggested you ‘fuck it out’. With his brother.

“You guys suck. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another drink.” You began walking away as they laughed; obviously happy with themselves for managing to wind you up.

You made your way into the kitchen, your eyes landing on a guy stood in the corner. You smiled politely as you walked past him to make your next drink. “You on your own?” He asked. Are. You. Serious. You thought. You were not in the mood for this.

“Uh, no. My friends are just in the living room, where everyone else is.” You said bluntly. You hoped that gave him the hint that you were definitely not interested.

Obviously, it didn’t.

“Your ass looks beautiful in that dress.” He said boldly as he took a step closer, looking you up and down.

“Thanks, but I’m not looking for any of that tonight.” You smiled in an attempt to soften the blow, whilst taking a step back.

“C’mon, you can’t wear a dress like that and not want some attention.” He laughed, reaching his hand out to brush your arm. You quickly retracted.

You were starting to panic slightly as it was clear he wasn’t getting the hint. “I’m okay, really.” You reiterated, taking another step back. You were now against the counter, awaiting his next move.

As he started to take a step towards you, Jake walked into the kitchen, pausing as he witnesses the guy come closer to you; again trying to reach out and touch your arm. He flicks his eyes to you, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You really hope he can see what you’re trying to tell him.

“Hey, what are you doing, man?” Jake asked, flicking his eyes between you as he walked further into the kitchen.

“That’s none of your business, man.” He mocks, drawing his attention back to you.

“It is when it’s my house. Did she tell you she was interested in you before you cornered her?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He folded his arms and leaned on the counter, raising his eyebrows as he impatiently waited for his response.

“Well, I- no, but-“

“Enough said. Get off of her and get out of my house.” He spoke with a steady tone, pushing himself off of the counter and moving out of the way, further prompting the guy to leave.

You breathed out, not even realising you were holding your breath. “Thank you so much.” You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to ground yourself.

“Yeah, are you okay? Did anything else happen?” He asked with panic laced in his voice. He walked over to you and moved his eyes over you to check that you were okay.

You looked up at him. His eyes were laced with concern and worry; they looked softer, It was different. He always looked at you with such annoyance, but you liked this. “I’m okay. Thank you, Jake.” You replied. You really were okay, but unwanted men coming onto you will never get less daunting.

“I’m sorry that happened. If you need anything, you let me know. My bedroom is upstairs to the right if you need some quiet.” He said softly as he ran his hand through his hair, letting it fall back into place.

You were taken back, to say the least. You and Jake were never nice to each other unless absolutely necessary, but even then you were still throwing dirty looks around like there was no tomorrow. It was a moment of clarity. You would see Jake acting somewhat similarly to others; always so kind and caring. But never towards you. You wondered what it would be like to not dislike him so much, and to actually get along with him. Although this only gave you a small taste of that, you liked this a lot more than hating him. You still hated him though. You’re way too stubborn to admit that you might like him, even to yourself.

“Thanks. I’m okay, I promise. I always get shaken up when this type of stuff happens. I just need another drink.” You laughed a little, trying to soften the mood slightly. You picked up your cup and started to fiddle with it. You felt too awkward just standing there.

“Yeah, sure. Help yourself. Do you want me to stay with you and then help you find josh? So you’re not on your own again?” He suggested as he walked past you to get a drink out of the fridge.

What the fuck? You thought. You knew Jake could be nice, but you never expected him to be this caring. Not in a million years.

“Uh, yeah, actually. Would that be okay? I don’t want to steal you from your own party.” You mumbled, starting to pour a concoction of various kinds of alcohol into your cup.

“Of course. I know where he is, so it shouldn’t take long.” He reassured you with a soft smile, brushing past you to find a bottle opener for his drink.

You grabbed your drink and went with Jake to find Josh. Once you found him, you said your thank you’s to Jake and walked over to Josh.

“Was that Jake? Were you just with Jake? Did you just smile at Jake?” He asked, an excited grin on his face. He got up from his seat, eager to find out if your battle with Jake has finally ended or not.

“Yes, yes, and yes. Some guy was being a massive creep and Jake saw and kicked him out. He was really sweet, actually. It was weird.” You said, taking a sip of your drink whilst stealing Josh’s seat.

“Does this mean you both like each other?” He said, completely disregarding the small mention of the creepy guy; you didn’t blame him, though. This was exciting for him. His smile widened as he got more eager by the second.

“No. I still hate him.” You said firmly. You were not admitted the fact that you maybe, slightly like Jake. Not happening.

“Ugh, c’mon, y/n. You know he can be nice, you’ve seen it yourself. He’s even been nice to you now. Without any prompting.” He pleaded as he sat on the edge of the table opposite you.

You leaned back against the sofa and sighed. You looked at Josh’s face and you could see he was desperate for this to finally be over. “Okay, fine. I don’t like Jake. However, I’m not as inclined to gauge his eyes out when I look at him anymore. Happy?” You reasoned.

He shook his head and smiled. “Fine. This is a starting point, then.”

“Sure. You can call it that if you’d like.” You giggled. It was clear he was a little frustrated, all he wanted was his best friend and brother to get along, but it was fun to wind him up sometimes.

As the night went on, people slowly startled to filter out the party, only leaving a few people. You were thinking about jake, and how he helped you. You wanted to repay him, so you took yourself to the kitchen and began clearing up some of the used cups. You figured he would appreciate this, since no one likes cleaning up the morning after whilst morbidly hungover.

You were nearly done when Jake walked in. He paused in the doorway, “What are you doing?” He asked, not moving.

“Oh, hi. I’m just cleaning up a little bit. Thought it might help you out tomorrow when you’re hungover.” You stated, smiling at him and continuing to throw away all the trash laying around.

“You don’t have to do that.” He began to walk over and attempted to take the bag from your hands. You pulled your hands away.

“You didn’t have to help me earlier.” You looked up at him and sent him a reassuring smile. You really wanted to help out.

“How are you doing after earlier?” He asked, ignoring your previous statement.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you helped.” You replied, setting the bag down on the floor when there was no more trash left on the counters.

“How are you getting home?” He wondered, picking up the trash bag and moving it to the doorway so he could take it out later.

“Oh, I was just going to get a taxi.” You said as you fiddled with your rings, again feeling awkward with this new tone of conversation between you.

He shook his head, “No, you can stay here.”

“Why do you care how I get home?” You retort. It came out slightly harsher than you expected, and he took a step back.

“Why do i care?” He repeated. “Look, we might not see eye to eye, but what happened to you tonight wasn’t okay. He might not have done anything, but who knows what might’ve happened if i didn’t show up at the right time. I know you know that, and I also know that you’re going to have overwhelming anxiety about getting into a taxi, by yourself, at night. I’m not willing to let you do that whilst you’re also drunk and vulnerable. What kind of person would that make me if I didn’t care?” He said, raising his voice. He began to walk away from you, making his way out of the kitchen.

You rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to pull him back into the kitchen, “Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, I guess I’m just used to keeping my guard up around you.” You apologised, looking up at him. You realised you were still holding his hand, so you hesitatingly let go. You’d never really been this close to him, and you weren’t complaining. You studied his features, moving your eyes around his face.

“I know, me too. I’m sorry for shouting, it’s just annoying because I was being nice, and you sort of threw it back in my face.” He said as he did the same to you; studying your features.

You wondered what it would be like to kiss him, or what his calloused hands would feel like against your bare skin, or how he would feel insid- stop. You still hate him. You thought.

He wondered the same about you. He wondered how soft your lips would feel; how you would taste. He was willing to find out. In a moment of boldness, he began to move closer to your lips. He was getting closer, closer, clo-

“Hey guys- wait a minute. Did I just interrupt something?” Josh said as he walked into the kitchen, a smirk beginning to spread on his lips.

You both moved away from each other, not wanting to let on that you were making up with each other; or whatever you were doing. You weren’t really sure what just happened.

“No.” You both spoke at the same time.

“I was just clearing up, and then Jake came in. That’s all. What were you going to say?” You stuttered. You fiddled with your rings again, looking down at your hands.

“Oh. Well, I’m going to bed. I’m staying here tonight by the way, Jake.” He turned around and made his way out of the kitchen and upstairs to the spare room.

You giggled at Josh as you turned round to face jake again. “So, am I staying here, too?” You asked. You felt bad asking, but he was pretty clear on his opinions about you getting a taxi.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He responded. He reached his hand to the back of his neck, playing with his hair. He obviously felt nervous. Or awkward. Probably awkward, you assumed.

“Yeah, thanks. Can I take a shower?” You asked. You felt gross, you always did after drinking. You noticed his eyes move over you, sparking a warm feeling in your belly. You tried to push the feeling away, not prepared or ready to feel this way about him on such short notice.

“Yeah. The bathroom is upstairs, opposite the top of the stairs. The towels are in the cupboard next to it.” He replied whilst pointing upstairs. Neither of you moved, you just started at each other. You were both equally as confused at what happened before Josh interrupted. Was it a moment? Was it not a moment? Who knows.

After a few seconds of painfully awkward silence and staring, you left to go upstairs and take a shower. You found the towels in the cupboard that Jake mentioned, and turned the shower on. You adjusted the temperature so that it was a little warmer, and peeled off your dress. It felt good to get it off of you; you never found tight dresses as the most comfortable option.

You tied your hair up in a bun after seeing the stingy amount of options for shampoo. You also didn’t fancy sleeping in wet hair. You stepped in and immediately relaxed at the feeling of the water hitting your back, making every effort to not get your hair wet. You took your time washing yourself, not wanting to leave the warmth of the shower. Your mind wondered to Jake. You’d always thought he was attractive, but you were never attracted to him. Probably because he was never nice to you. But after tonight, after seeing the caring side you’d only ever observed, you felt differently about him. It was hard to dislike him as much when you had been on the receiving end of his selflessness and kindness. You wondered what this meant for your relationship with him. Were you still enemies? Or were you walking into new territory with him? You weren’t sure.

Eventually, you decided to get out and began drying yourself. You wrapped the towel around you and tried to find Jake to ask where you would be sleeping, and if he had any clothes for you to wear. Both questions which should’ve been asked before you got in the shower, you realised. You found him in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed in just his trousers. You’d never seen him shirtless, and you’d never say no to seeing it again; that’s for sure.

You knocked gently on the door despite it being open, to let him know of your presence. He looked up and raked his eyes down your figure. You felt exposed.

“Hey. I was just wondering if you had anything for me to wear, and where I was sleeping?” You asked, speaking gently to not wake Josh up.

“Uh, yeah. You can sleep in here, if that’s okay with you. I’ll find you some clothes to wear, just give me a second.” He said, getting up from his bed and making his way to the chest of drawers to find some clothes for you.

“But where will you sleep?” You asked, feeling confused as you watched him dig through his clothes.

“On the couch downstairs. Here, you can wear this top. You can wear these pyjama bottoms if you want, but they’re a little big on me, so they’ll probably be big on you, too.” He muttered as he handed the pile of clothes to you. Your hands brushed together, the small amount of contact bringing back the warm feeling in your stomach. Stop. You thought.

“No, I’ll take the couch. I can sleep anywhere, it’s okay.” You responded, moving your hand to the top of your towel to stop it from slipping.

“Honestly, just take the bed. Take it as my formal apology for the last however many years of shit.” He smirked, attempting to make a joke out of the ‘however many years’ of torture.

“Oh, we’re apologising now?” You countered, returning his smirk.

“I think it’s about time, don’t you? Anyway, it’s your turn now. I just made my apology.” He said as he moved closer to you, leaning on the doorframe.

“Not to erase all of our progress, but that was not a very good apology.” You argued. God, he looked good without a shirt. You thought.

“I think it was a great apology. I’m offering you to sleep in a nice, warm, comfortable bed.” He retorted, gesturing to the bed behind him.

You shook your head and laughed. “It didn’t even include the word “sorry”, Jake.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry, y/n. Better?” He said, still sporting the same smirk.

You wanted to kiss him. You’d been trying to ignore this fleeting thought since you were in the kitchen together, but it was becoming insufferable. You squeezed your legs together at the sheer thought of him touching you.

“Better.” You responded, “I’m sorry, too. Truly.” You said, setting the tone to something more serious than before. You had less of an issue apologising to him now that he had initiated it, but you were so ready for this battle to be over between you.

He stared at you, not really knowing where to go from here. He also really wanted to kiss you; he thought you looked good in only a towel, and imagined how easy it would be to remove it. He imagined how you’d look underneath it, having to stop himself from finding out. He could see the swell of your breasts under the towel and felt himself starting to get hard. He saw your eyes flick down to his lips and linger there, before moving back up to his eyes. Does she want this, too? He thought. He took this as a signal that you felt the same and leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You were in shock. You had been wanting this, but you did not realise he wanted it, too. You leaned into the kiss, feeding your hands into his hair. You tugged it at the roots slightly, earning a little groan from Jake in response. This felt so wrong; but it made sense. You wondered if all of your friends were right; maybe it was just built up sexual tension.

His hands moved round your waist, squeezing at your skin. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip begging for entrance, which you granted. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling and grabbed his arms, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You needed him, and he needed you just as much. You felt his hard-on press against your lower stomach. You could feel yourself getting wet at the thought of him inside of you, and reached your hand down and palmed him through his trousers. He sucked in a breath and pulled away, “Stop. Are you sure you want this?” He asked with concern and desperation written all over his face, pushing you away from him slightly.

“Yes, Jake.” You whined. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that; you were aiming for a steadier, firmer tone, but you found it hard to care, It’s not like you weren’t getting a little impatient.

He leaned back in, kissing you with more passion than before. He moved his hands to the top of the towel, silently asking you to take it off. You obliged, taking your hands away from his neck and unravelled it, letting it slide down your body.

He moved his eyes over your body, groaning at the site of you. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and kissing you again.

You moved your hands to his belt a second time, undoing the buckle and chucking it on the floor. You undid the buttons and he slid them off, stepping out of them and kicking them out of the way. You saw his growing bulge through his boxers; you wouldn’t be lying if you said your mouth started watering at the sight. You wanted to taste him.

So you did just that. You got down on your knees, using his thighs as an anchor to ensure you didn’t keel over; that would be embarrassing. He looked down at you, his jaw slack and his hair draped around his face. He took his hand and gently cupped your cheek, slowly guiding your head forward. “You want a taste, baby?” He whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nodded your head yes whilst you took your hands to the tops of his boxers, he stopped you. Again.

“Words.” He demanded, tightening his grip on your jaw.

“Yes, I wanna taste you.” You muttered, still gripping his boxers.

He nodded, giving you permission to carry on. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. There was pre cum dripping out of the head, and you swear you almost started dribbling at the sight.

You leaned forward, his hand still pressed against your face, and licked up the side. He took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, moving his hand so that he could grip your hair.

You took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. You wanted to tease him. You moved down slowly, hollowing your cheeks ever so slightly. “Ah, fuck. Don’t tease.” He uttered. His breathing was starting to get irregular as you continued down his length.

He was getting impatient. He needed to be inside of you, and you were taking too long. He moved his hand to the back of your head, edging you forward and testing the waters. You hummed around his cock, giving him approval.

He moved your head forward, forcing you to take almost all of him into your mouth. He was huge; to say the least. You hollowed your cheeks as much as you could as he created a rhythm for you. You moved your hand from his thigh to the base of his cock, jerking him off slowly as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

He hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him. His hand faltered as he threw his head back, “Jesus, y/n.” He growled, pulling your hair harshly. You could start to feel him pulsing in your mouth, and you knew he was getting close. He was panting, at this point. His hair was sticking to his face and his jaw was slack. He looked hot, and the need you’ve been feeling for him has just increased by an obscene amount.

Almost as if he could sense your increasing desire, he pulled you off of him. “I nearly couldn’t stop myself.” He admitted sheepishly whilst he helped you off of your knees, bringing you in for another kiss. He could taste himself on your tongue; he could’ve come if he carried on, the images of you on your knees flooding his head.

“Get on the bed.” He uttered, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto the floor. You obliged, swaying your hips as you walked over to the bed.

He joined you on the bed and pushed your legs further apart, “Now it’s my turn to taste you. You want me to taste how sweet you are, honey?” He whispered as he placed soft kisses around your dripping cunt.

You moaned at the sheer thought of his mouth on you, “Yes, please.” You whined, moving your legs further apart as a way to prompt him.

He liked a stripe down you, causing your hips to buck into his mouth at the sudden sensation. You grabbed his hair in your hands, tugging slightly. “Eager, are we? I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunted, smirking to himself at the thought of getting you so worked up.

Your cheeks turned a crimson colour from embarrassment. “Please, do something. I need you.” You pleaded. It was getting too much now; you just needed something, badly.

“Be patient.” He muttered into you, pressing his mouth against you again. He circled your clit with his tongue, and with no warning, pushed his fingers into you; setting a relentless pace. The noise you made was inhuman, and as a reminder of the sleeping beauty next door, Jake smacked his hand on your thigh. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to hide the noises coming from you.

The rate at which he was pumping his calloused fingers was sending you to the edge at an embarrassing pace; he could feel you squeezing his fingers, “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” He asked, somehow pumping his fingers even faster than before.

He sucked on your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You were trying to speak, but you were sure your words were incoherent. Your orgasm was imminent; you were bucking your hips, desperate to come. His fingers hit a particular spot within you, and a wave of pleasure crashed into you full force. You were chanting his name like a mantra, though you were sure it made no sense. He took his fingers out of you and began lapping you up, striving to collect every little bit of your orgasm on his tongue. “So sweet.” He groaned.

You tried to push his head away; but he was stronger than you and carried on. “Can you give me another one? I know you can, sweet girl.” He prompted, pushing his fingers back inside of you and, yet again, setting a relentless pace.

“I need you, Jake.” You begged, still trying to pry his head away from yourself. You threw your head back into the pillows as the slight pain of overstimulated faded, being replaced with pleasure. “God, Jake.” You moaned.

“You gonna come around my fingers again, hm?” He taunted, placing his mouth back on your clit straight away.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes.” You whimpered, feeling your second orgasm approach quicker by the second.

“See? I knew you could do it for me.” He remarked, “C’mon, sweet girl. You can do it. Just one more and then you can have my cock, yeah?”

His words of encouragement egged you on, and you pulled at his hair in an attempt to bring him even closer. He groaned into you; the vibrations sending you over the edge. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. You were beginning to wonder why you hadn’t listened to your friends because you did not want to wait any longer for him, and you were already half way there.

He pulled his head away, and slowed down the pace of his fingers, slowly working you through your high. He climbed on top of you, and the cold metal of his necklaces touching your chest sent a chill down your body.

You leaned in, starting a heated kiss with him. You couldn’t get enough of him; eager to feel him inside of you. He moved down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking harshly. You arched your back into him, “Please, Jake. Please, I need you so badly.” You cried, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You moved your hand down to his cock and stroked him softly, “you want my cock, baby?” He uttered, trying to conceal the groan he let out from such a delicate touch.

“I can’t take it any longer, I need you, Jake.” You demanded, quickening your pace on his hard cock. He could’ve come right there and then; the combination of your touch and your shameless begging making it hard to control himself. It was painful, and he wondered how he didn’t just fuck you up against the wall the second you removed the towel.

He removed your hand, replacing them with his own, giving himself a few languid strokes before guiding it to your entrance. “You sure about this?” He asked, his tone switching from demanding to concerned.

“Jake, if you don’t fuck me right now, I might go insane.” You stated, looking up at him with pure desperation. You genuinely thought you were going to combust with how impatient you were getting.

He needed no further confirmation, and thrusted into you. You yelped at the feeling of him; the burning sensation from his cock stretching you out catching you off guard.

“Shit, y/n. You feel so good. So ready for me.” He panted, setting an unforgiving pace. His thrusts were deep, and reached all the right places.

You wrapped your arm around his back and dug your nails into him, needing something to grip onto. He groaned at the feeling, gripping the sheets beneath him. You could feel yourself getting closer already, and so could he, “Are you close? I can feel you- fuck, I can feel you squeezing me.” He groaned into your neck, “I wont last much longer if you keep doing that.” He moaned as he started to suck on your neck, leaving reminders of tonight for tomorrow.

You tried to respond, but the immense pleasure you were feeling caused your mind to go blank. You were trying to hold your orgasm off; not wanting this to end, but to no avail, your third orgasm came crashing down. You dragged your hands down jakes back, most definitely leaving scratches for him to discover tomorrow. He fucked you through your high; not faltering once, whilst whispering sweet words of encouragement into your ear, “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You came down from your high, feeling utterly fucked out. “Can you do one more for me? I know you can- fuck, just one more, please?” He said, his steady facade slipping in an instant.

“Jake, I can’t. It hurts.” You pleaded. On one hand, you never wanted this to end. But on the other hand, you were exhausted and the overstimulation hurt.

He moved his hand down to your clit, circling his fingers around it quickly. “You said that last time, and you did. Stop being pathetic.” He growled, leaning his head into your chest to start sucking on your nipple.

Pain turned into pleasure; as usual, and your fourth orgasm was fast approaching. “You can do it, please do it.” He begged, his hips faltering as he tried to hold off his orgasm. “I need to feel you come around my cock.” He pleaded, quickening his fingers which were circling your sensitive clit.

He toyed with your clit faster, silently pleading with you to hurry up.

It worked.

Although not as intense as the last three, you were still sure you were sent to some other dimension as your fourth orgasm hit you. You could feel jakes hips faltering as he fucked you through your orgasm, whilst also keenly chasing his own.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come, y/n. Where do you want it?” He asked, his face screwed up and seconds away from coming.

“Inside! Please, I wanna feel you fill me up.” You urged as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips stopped, and he let out a guttural moan that you wish you could play on repeat. You pulled his head away from your neck, trying to see his face as his come filled you up. His hair was stuck to his face with sweat, and his cheeks were a crimson red.

He collapsed on top of you, his heavy breaths heating you up even more. You brushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ears, wanting to see his fucked out face.

He rolled off of you and got up to the bathroom, leaving you on your own to reflect on what just happened. When he came back, he had a wash cloth and kneeled beside you to clean you up. “You okay?” He questioned gently, stroking the outside of your thigh.

“Yeah. Just tired, is all.” You replied, smiling at him. He thought you looked cute; sprawled out on his bed looking all fucked out and tired.

He discarded the cloth and came to lay next to you, pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your leg around his waist, and absentmindedly started to draw patterns on his bare chest.

“Thank you. For helping me earlier.” You mentioned quietly. You felt bad. Now that you had seen, first hand, just how caring he is, you felt bad for the way you had previously treated him.

“Look, y/n,” he sighed, “I’m not a bad person. I know we haven’t gotten along for some time now, but it doesn’t feel good to think that you assumed I’d ever leave someone to fend for themselves in that type of situation; or any type of bad situation. I personally think I just adequately apologised by making you come four times, but I think you’d disagree. So, I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, and for all of the comments I’ve made towards you. I’ll be honest, I’ve seen the way you are towards others; the real you, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that. Now I know that you’re a great person, and always have been.” He confessed, stroking your hair softly. You were overwhelmed, to say the least. You never expected to make up with Jake so fast; let alone going from hating him, to having sex with him, all in one night.

“I’m sorry, too. I know, and knew, you weren’t a bad person. If we’re sharing secrets now, I’ve wanted to make it up to you for a while, but I was too stubborn. I would agree that you adequately apologised, but hearing you say the words made it a lot better. The best apology I’ve ever received, if you will.” You giggled softly, admiring his face. He always thought you were attractive, but seeing you in this knew light made it different for him. He wasn’t just attracted to the way you looked anymore, but you as a person, too.

You wondered what this meant for both of you. You knew you at least liked each other now, but you wanted to know him. The small taste of the real Jake you had gotten tonight was simply not enough.

“What does this mean for us? Are we friends now?” He queried, a frown appearing on his face.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you take me out to dinner and we can find out?” You countered, your heart rate increasing at your sudden boldness. He stopped stroking your hair and looked at you with a grin.

“Deal.” He agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. You pulled away, nuzzling your head into his chest with a giddy smile plastered on your face.

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months

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Yes, Major

A/N: This is a request I'd gotten for a soft dom Buck Cleven, I haven't linked it with the ask because there were a couple of other ideas on there that I'm going to write :)

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‘Hurry up!’ you called from the bedroom as you heard Gale walking up the stairs. Tonight was Gales last night before he goes to England with the 100th Bomb Squad and you were determined to make every single second count. The two of you had been out dancing with Bucky and a girl he’d met that night and now you’d come home and you wanted nothing more than to spend the night with your husband.

When Gale appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, your breath caught in your throat when you saw him standing in his uniform. You’d seen him in his uniform before, in fact he’d spent the entire night in his uniform, but there was something about seeing him standing in your bedroom in his uniform that had you squirming on top of the sheets.

‘You took your time, Major Cleven,’ you teased, sitting up on the bed and grinning at your husband. Gale chuckled softly before making his way into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over until his face was inches away from yours.

‘I take it you like the uniform,’ he replied, smirking at you as he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to yours.

‘I do, makes you look important,’ you murmured against his lips. Your hands came up to the lapels of his jacket, moving downwards slightly to attempt to undo the jacket, only to be stopped by his hands coming up to grip your wrists gently.

‘Lay down, baby,’ he murmured quietly, just loud enough for you to hear and before you realised you were doing it, you felt yourself slowly lowering yourself back down until your back was pressed against mattress again and Gale slowly made his way over you, hovering over you. His eyes made their way down your body and you suddenly felt vulnerable, with you just wearing a sheer nightdress and Gale above you, still in full uniform. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly, lowering his lips to your jaw and pressing a gentle kiss to your skin.

‘I wish you didn’t have to go tomorrow,’ you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

‘Don’t think about that right now,’ he said, pulling his head up and tilting your head to look at him. You were taken away by how bright his eyes were in the darkness of your bedroom and you couldn’t help but get lost in them. His hand came up to your cheek and you felt his thumb swipe away the tear that was steadily falling down your cheek. ‘Don’t think about tomorrow, think about us, me and you, now, you understand me?’ You nodded gently and felt Gale tighten his grip on your chin slightly, not enough to hurt you but enough to make sure you couldn’t move your head away. ‘I need to hear you, sweetheart.’

‘Yes,’ you whispered.

‘Yes what? Yes, Major Cleven.’

Satisfied with your answer, Gale hummed happily and leaned down to press his lips against yours. His tongue swept your lower lip and you couldn’t stop the whimper escaping your lips. Gale’s hands began to slowly push your dress up around your hips and you quickly slipped your arms out of the strappy sleeves, letting Gale pull the entire dress off of your body. The moment your nightdress hit the bedroom floor, your hands came up, impatiently tugging at his jacket and beginning to undo the buttons.

‘Have a bit of patience, sweetheart,’ he spoke softly as he brought his hands up to replace yours, carefully undoing the buttons and slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, making sure to drape it neatly over the chair the other side of the room before crawling back over to you and hovering over you once again. You took his tie between both of your hands and you pulled him down until his lips were pressed to yours once again. As soon as Gale deepened the kiss, you wound your arms around his neck, holding yourself to him.

Gale chuckled when you gasped against his lips when your nipples rubbed against his shirt, smiling even wider at your whine as he moved his lips down your neck, nibbling at your skin gently. As he kissed you, Gale unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to the side of the room as your hands moved down to unbuckle his belt, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself around him as quickly as you could.

The second his trousers had been kicked to the side, your legs wrapped around his waist and Gale’s arms wrapped around your body, his head trying to burrow into your neck as far as he could. Your fingers toyed with the hair at the name of his neck, so wrapped up in the feeling of his weight on top of you that you didn’t notice when his hand slipped down your body and his fingers settled on your clit.

‘Gale,’ you gasped as his thumb started to rub circles on your clit and his finger toyed at your entrance.

‘Yeah, sweetheart?’ he asked, his voice low and gravelly as he smirked at you.

‘Please.’

‘Please what?’

‘Please, Major!’ you cried out and, satisfied with your answer, Gale slid his finger inside you, crooking his finger instantly, making your back arch off of the bed. Gale lowered his mouth to your nipple, enclosing it in his mouth and sucking gently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him pressed to you as your hips began to buck up against his hand.

Just as you were about to fall over the edge into your orgasm, you felt Gale pull his hand away from you, pulling an impatient cry from your lips, making him chuckle. ‘The only times you’re going to cum tonight is on my cock, sweetheart,’ he said, his words a sharp contrast to his tone of voice and his pet name for you. The sound of your whine had a smirk forming on Gale’s lips and, quickly growing impatient, you sat up and wrapped your hand around his cock pumping slowly. ‘Don’t tease, sweetheart,’ he growled lowly as his hand cupped your jaw, making you meet his gaze.

‘Well, you were taking your time,’ you replied, your cheeks flushing as you averted your gaze, knowing that you were stepping out of the lines the two of you had created in the bedroom.

‘Don’t push it,’ he warned, his hips slowly moving against your hand as you swiped your thumb across his tip. ‘And here I thought you were going to be a good girl for me on my last night,’ he said, a mock pout forming on his lips.

‘Don’t say that,’ you replied instantly, stopping your actions and looking at him dead in the eye. He could see the fear that was in your eyes whenever you thought of him being shipped off to England and it broke his heart.

‘Lay back down for me,’ he said gently, changing the subject. He gently nudged your thighs apart before crawling in between your legs and pressing his lips to yours as he lined his cock at your entrance, pushing in slowly. A groan left his lips as he bottomed out inside of you and he broke the kiss to press his forehead against yours.

‘Gale,’ you whimpered as he began to thrust in and out of you, arms wrapping around your body to hold you close to him. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his skin and you smiled softly when his eyes fluttered closed. He adjusted his position slightly and his cock grazed against your g-spot, causing a loud cry to leave your lips and your head to tilt back.

‘Look at me, sweetheart,’ he demanded, tapping your cheek lightly before sliding his hand around to the back of your head, supporting your head so you were looking at him. A shiver ran through your body when you opened your eyes. You always loved how he automatically took charge in the bedroom and you trusted him not to take it too far. You were so pre-occupied with looking at him that you didn’t notice him slide his free hand down your body until he was rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you moan louder and Gale to speed his hips up even more.

‘I’m close,’ you cried out, bringing your lips back to his as your fingers tangled in his hair. Gale groaned and buried his head in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as both of your orgasms crashed into you simultaneously. Gales pace slowed slightly as he helped you come back down and you couldn’t stop the small whimper from escaping you when he pulled out to lay next to you.

You were quick to rest your head against his chest, his arm automatically coming around your body to keep you in place and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. ‘I love you, you know that right?’ he asked, his breath fanning across the top of your head.

‘Of course I do,’ you replied instantly, your fingers tracing patterns on his stomach, tickling him lightly. ‘Why did you ask?’

Gale sighed heavily and tightened his grip on you, almost as if he was afraid that you’d disappear if he let go of you. ‘It’s just, if something happens to me over there, I just want to make sure that - ’

‘Nothing’s going to happen,’ you interrupted, turning yourself around in his arms until you were facing him, your face hovering above his as one of your hands cupped his face. ‘Okay? Nothing’s going to happen to you, you’re going to fly your 25 missions and you’re going to come home to me. That’s what’s going to happen.’ You could feel tears filling your eyes as you spoke.

Gale looked at you a little sadly, his thumb rubbing along your cheekbone gently before sitting up and kissing you lightly. ‘Okay, sweetheart, how’s this? I’m going to fly my 25 missions and come home to you and when I get home, we’ll go on a date. How does that sound?’

‘Much better,’ you replied, smiling softly at him.

‘What was that?’ he asked, smirking at you.

‘Much better, Major Cleven.’

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sepublic · 5 months

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In lieu of my latest reblog about people taking compelling characters and projecting their writing onto some other (usually white) dude, I want to bring up a post I had drafted all the way back from April, but never posted because at the time I still had enough patience not to. But now is different. I do think this analysis is a bit outdated because it doesn’t consider the mediocre white dude angle of Belos that I find paramount, but it’s good enough for my repurposed point.

I find it funny when some people complain that the narrative was unfair to Belos despite his “trauma” and circumstances, like there aren’t multiple characters out there who parallel his issues, and get sympathy AND a redemption, in all but one case! Belos is narratively condemned not for what he has in common with others, but for what sets him apart, particularly his stubborn ego. Cases in point;

“Belos deserved to have sympathy for having an unhealthy attachment to his more confident sibling that was mixed with resentment over being abandoned for someone else, culminating in guilt over hurting them and regretting it!”

Lilith exists. She’s motivated by a massive inferiority complex with Eda, Gwen favors her. She’s clearly salty about Eda going off to have fun with Raine, and claims to Luz that she’s Eda’s ‘real’ family. She cursed her sister and felt enormous guilt over it… But in the end, Lilith IS given sympathy by the narrative, and the chance to redeem herself. And she takes just that.

A lot of the people claiming Belos deserved better theorize that stabbing Caleb was an accident, and you know what? So was the permanence of Eda’s curse, Lilith expected it to only last a day and certainly not transform her sister. But Lilith still owned up. And she learned to make other friends while respecting Eda’s boundaries.

“Belos was an orphan raised in a culture that encouraged genocide and a hatred of wild magic!”

Caleb exists, he went through the exact same childhood as Philip, but still chose to change. And while they weren’t orphans at the time, Hunter and the Collector were also raised on genocide, taught to find wild/Titan magic apprehensive. But they loved it instead.

“But Belos actually lost his brother, his loved one died!”

So did Hunter’s! And he was shown to be snappy and aggressive, pouring himself into a mission to cope! But he still owned up, apologized to Willow for rebuking her. He lost Flapjack, and instead of making replicas of his lost loved one to keep to himself, discarding anyone that wasn’t close enough, Hunter made a diverse array of palismen for other kids, to give them the loving relationship he lost! Even his own palisman was clearly carved to be different from Flapjack, reminiscent but still their own thing.

Then there’s Darius, who lost his mentor the previous Golden Guard; His own ‘Caleb’, so to speak! And he was also unpleasant about it, he took his grief out on Hunter, who had nothing to do with this! The canon audio diaries even confirm the apprehension has been going for a while… But Darius realized he was wrong to have projected onto Hunter, made up for this by practically adopting the kid and giving this kid the happy ending his mentor didn’t have; Passing the cycle of kindness the Golden Guard started. And his own grief is pointed out to the audience by Hunter himself.

“They should’ve shown how having a hero complex and a desire to live out a fantasy can corrupt anyone!”

Luz and the Collector. Luz herself makes these comparisons for Belos, and there were times where she hurt her friends trying to live out her fantasy, and/or planned to leave them under the impression she was doing the ‘right thing’. Luz makes a legitimate consideration that she could’ve been Belos, if she refused to listen to others and change. But Luz owned up! As did the Collector, whose escapism and wish to play the role of the ‘hero’, in this case Luz, causes them to do some pretty terrible things. But they still change after being called out, and are still given sympathy over the loneliness and trauma that fueled their escapism, as was Luz.

"Philip struggled with getting over a different type of fantasy, one that relied upon him conquering and hurting others!"

As did King! And King got over that, he quickly learned that other people would always be more important than his fantasies, even if the 'sacrifices' were a lot more minor. King started off the same, the difference is that he still grew up and that's why we judge his antics as so much more light-hearted.

“Well that’s not fair, Philip’s examples were more extreme!”

How about Eda’s curse? Belos never brings up his other sources of trauma as an excuse for his actions, but you know what he does invoke? His curse, claiming to Hunter and Luz that it forced him to act certain ways. But we see Eda, who got a rawer deal with her curse; She didn’t bring it upon herself, as Belos did. She legitimately loses control when it takes over. She scarred and disabled her father because of it, and you know what?

Eda never uses her curse as an excuse. She never lets that justify what she’s done to people, and she even befriends the creature at the source of her curse, the Owl Beast. The curse she deals with is objectively worse, objectively more unfair, than Belos’. But it’s only Belos who actually cites his curse as an excuse, and the palismen at the source of it? He kills them.

“Belos’ cursed form is treated as ugly and evil!”

The palismen amalgam in his mind looked almost exactly the same, to the point where Hunter, who had seen Belos’ cursed form in person before, thought they were identical. But in the end, the palismen amalgam, despite resembling Belos’ cursed form, is a sympathetic and tragic victim who is murdered. Luz and Hunter mistaking him for Belos is justified, but it’s also still regrettable that they are judged by appearances.

“It hurts people to sacrifice their morals for the greater good, you know!”

Raine did that, they felt compelled to drag Darius and Eberwolf (one of whom was a childhood friend) into a murder-suicide, because as far as they knew, they were already going to be caught and executed, so may as well take their oppressors down with them! And they aren’t called out for it, because they couldn’t have known about Darius’ actual intentions…

Because in the end, sometimes you have to punch a fascist, and sometimes you have to oppose a friend or loved one because they took the fascists’ side. It’s why Lilith is expected to change for Eda, not the other way around. Raine is not the aggressor here, it’s all from the principle of self-defense for themselves and the isles as a whole.

And in the end, it’s because Raine is approaching from a place of actual good intent and moral concern that there are lines they still refuse to cross; As soon as they learn about Luz and King, they sabotage their own plans because they refuse to orphan these kids they just found out about for the ‘greater good’. When one of those very kids, Luz, makes Raine promise to keep Eda safe, you can see the conflict between their morals and their obligations in their eyes as Eda accepts the Bard sigil, and ultimately Raine powers through the draining spell to save Eda’s life, simply because Luz asked them to.

I’ve talked since their debut of how Raine has some similarities to Belos, in particular how they both work their whole lives to infiltrate a group from within to topple it, even as they publicly support it as a celebrated leader. They both had to lie and work under the radar, and make effective rhetoric; They each wear their own masks. Raine has to constantly lie to and rebuke Eda about being brainwashed, and we can see the moral agony it gives them!

But Raine is opposed to a legitimate threat, whereas Belos is completely making one up; Raine has to work under the micro-management of tyrants with control over them, Philip has been free from his colony for centuries, and even after finding out Gravesfield gave up on its witch hunting mission in the present, still traps himself of his own will. Belos feels no guilt for any of his ‘necessary evil’.

Raine had actual morals unlike Belos that they did sacrifice, for an actual greater good, and they actually hurt over these choices. They dedicated their whole life to stop a dark and twisted parallel, which makes their inclusion in the finale as the only person outside of the core trio to help against Belos all the more deserved; They even help deliver the killing blows. And Raine is rewarded for all of their effort, allowed to see it come to fruition and rest happily afterwards, because they really were sincere, and actually did make sacrifices, something Belos preaches but never follows. Most importantly, Raine knew they couldn’t justify everything even for their morally-justified mission.

“Belos was still legitimately wronged by Caleb for nothing, he didn’t deserve to be abandoned!”

Even if we believe Caleb did ‘abandon’ Philip or whatever; The Collector was legitimately wronged by the Titan, imprisoned and isolated for millennia despite being innocent. But while he justifiably calls the Titan a bully, he never takes this out on King, or any other Titan for that matter, remembering the rest with love. Nor is the Collector expected to forgive the Titan; The Titan accepts she made the wrong call. After all, imprisoning the Collector left them in a vulnerable state to be exploited by Belos, and give him the draining spell…

The Titan and Caleb’s mistakes were very much that, but the Collector matured for others, without needing an apology from the dead person who wronged him. And based on what we see of Belos’ memories, Caleb probably DID get to deliver that apology when he was alive, and Philip still insisted on being bitter!

“His only childhood friend just ditched him for someone else!”

That’s what happened to Willow, and that’s how she understood it for most of her life; Amity leaving her behind because she was too weak, and kids like Boscha and Skara were more popular, stronger, etc. But not only does the show say her rage against Amity is totally warranted and that the onus is on Amity to apologize, even if she didn’t choose to leave Willow (keep in mind she still saw Willow as a weak person to protect without input, as we later see in Labyrinth Runners)…

Willow is still kind. She still opts to be compassionate to Gus, and to Luz, and in general a nurturing person despite her abandonment. And when Willow is given the chance to take revenge on Boscha by stealing her glory in Grudgby, she doesn’t kick the girl while she’s down to do so; But Willow is also allowed to still hold anger towards Boscha, as we see in Season 3. And assuming Caleb wasn’t malicious about leaving Philip behind, we clearly see how he welcomes his brother back and wants things to get better, just as Amity does; He had his own side of the story. And Willow doesn’t kill Amity despite being primed to very easily do so…

"But imagine finding out they CHOSE to leave you, when you thought they didn't!"

Camila?!?! In fact, Camila was THE precedent for this, and people went and applied her tragic scene to Philip to make HIM into some angsty sadboi! And last I checked, Camila didn't exactly murder Luz... Plus, Philip had infinitely more time to see Caleb and Evelyn interact, and thus figure out that Caleb wasn't being kidnapped or brainwashed; Compare that to Camila who is just dunked into that situation out of nowhere, and is barely even adjusting to Vee's existence on top of finding out Luz was someplace else the entire time, and dealing with Jacob.

"A lot of family members at least start off as well-intentioned when hurting loved ones, they could've shown that!"

Bold of you to assume that Belos' selfish entitlement towards Caleb is the same as Camila or Gwen's legitimate concerns for their daughters; They did unconditionally love and they were misguided. But when shown they were causing pain, they actually shifted gears instead of focusing on how they were fight because they knew better. And what they were doing WAS still harmful, even though they DID care.

“Belos was probably a weirdo himself, and suffered from internalized hatred for his deviancy!”

Lilith dyed her hair to fit in with the coven, and be taken seriously. Amity suppressed herself to be a stoic perfectionist, constantly trying to justify her own existence as she says; She had to work to be good at magic while others like Gus, Emira, and Edric were naturally talented, and was made to hate those who weren’t successful as witches. Hunter too loathed his own lack of bile magic!

Most tellingly, Camila herself was taught to hide her weirdness, grew up thinking she was successful for doing that, and even tried to impose the same on Luz because of that misconception! But Camila realized what was done to her was wrong, and the same applied to her daughter; Accepting Luz’s weirdness meant accepting her own.

“Even if he still chose to double down in villainy, Belos could’ve at least been given a moment where he was sympathetic, where his sadness was shown, before nevertheless deciding his fate!”

Kikimora had an entire episode where she agonized over her obligations to a mother that seemed low key abusive, given her threat to disown her. We see her hesitate, cry, and be legitimately disappointed when she’s rewarded for staying with Belos by ‘getting to live’, a reward that doesn’t even last by the Day of Unity! Even after Kikimora makes her choice to betray Luz and Amity, we still get a final scene of her looking uncertain and even regretful of her decision, before she commits. Kikimora isn’t redeemed but is still humanized, despite being less human than Belos, so to speak.

She’s even a dark parallel to Lilith, having jealousy towards the Golden Guard, an emotionally abusive mother, and an inferiority complex towards other members of the coven despite working directly with Belos! And she is given many chances to escape Belos, a few months where she is legitimately free from him, and chooses to remain in her ways because Kikimora’s difference with Lilith isn’t that life was more unfair to her, it’s that she refused to change.

Now this is a bit out there, but there’s also the other Coven Heads! Mason, Vitimir, Hettie, and Osran! The show was shortened, so who knows what they could’ve provided for the story… Mason, Hettie, and Osran especially, since they’re not included amongst the coven head loyalists who still cling to power, even after Belos’ death. The show could’ve easily set up sympathetic moments to indicate a possibility of change, paying off in the epilogue; But because of Disney, you can’t blame the writers for not delivering everything they could’ve.

“How about a character who was just… an asshole, no outside reason given?”

Boscha, who was popular and privileged. While she does allude to some pressures that motivate her, as far as we know, there wasn’t really anyone or anything that made her be so cruel towards those she perceives as lesser. But despite this, Willow doesn’t see any point in trying to take Boscha’s spotlight as a Grudgby captain, when offered by her teammates; She doesn’t kick Boscha when she’s down. And Boscha is ultimately still recognized as unhappy with the loss of her friends, so even if she does do egregious things during the Collector’s reign, Amity offers Boscha the chance to become better and improve, as she did. And she takes it!

“Well, none of these characters had to grapple with having done things nearly as bad as Belos!”

And why do you think that is? Why are Belos’ sins so monumental in comparison, how did they get so bad? Because he kept refusing to change, kept refusing each opportunity, and got worse because of that. His first confirmed murder was Caleb, who right beforehand embraced his brother during what appeared to be a manifestation of the curse. But Philip still chose to commit his first sin despite receiving such unconditional sympathy, because he wanted control, not happiness. He didn’t start off as a genocidal dictator, he worked his way up to that over centuries.

“They make it seem like Belos was born evil!”

Our earliest chronological appearances of Philip are as a happy, carefree child who plays games with the brother he loves and looks up to; That isn’t the portrayal of someone ‘born’ evil. This is the portrayal of someone who became that way, over time, because he refused to concede anything to anyone, and wore away what decency he had across centuries, until we see the Emperor that Belos is when the show starts.

An evil dictator who ravaged an entire world for hundreds of years came from an innocent little kid, and Luz becomes self-aware of how this can apply to her, even as she’s reminded that she also ISN’T like Belos because of this critical reflection and willingness to listen. Belos, on the other hand, consciously cultivated an echo chamber for centuries, killing any Grimwalker he felt disagreed with him, despite their unconditional love and support. He deliberately shut himself off from the isles and ignored the kindness of others.

Bump reminds Faust that it’s disingenuous to project malice onto children who often simply don’t know any better, and just need to be given a chance to be taught and educated. But kids also have to take initiative to mature when they get older, hence why we hold adults more responsible; The established logic is that Belos wasn’t an evil child, he was simply a child who never grew up and that’s where his evil came from, rather than being some pre-existing source.

To be honest, I think the narrative doesn’t bother showing sympathy to Belos over his trauma because he’s already HAD more than enough sympathy, across centuries, from his brother, the Grimwalkers, his followers, even Luz and the Collector! So the story doesn’t feel the need to waste tears on someone who already got them, and instead focuses sympathy to characters who haven’t received as much, if any; People like Lilith, Amity, Hunter, etc.

Belos is the culmination of other characters’ traumas (who prove you can still choose to be better and happier despite these things), and was practically coddled by the people in his life for it. But he still chose to be bitter, never opened up to accept help, and his rejection brought even more pain that he could only blame on himself. Belos’ only tragedy is his refusal to change for the better; Even the narrative has made it clear he had chances, tears wept for him by people he knew.

He is a mirror to so many characters, what could’ve happened if they looked at their own pain and used it as justification to continue lashing out, because clearly they are the underdog heroes who have been wronged and are fighting against an injustice, right? The hero of their own story, if you will. Hell, we still also get that with Kikimora, as I just said! What I’ve listed is not a double standard, but rather proof that Belos was not uniquely condemned by his circumstances, for he is alike many characters as I mentioned. And Belos does not need to be portrayed “sympathetically” in order for the audience to understand the relevance of these parallels; Namely, that Belos has no excuse to still be like this when those similar nevertheless choose not to be cruel, and will accept others’ compassion.

And besides, with how the show was shortened… Who’s to say the writers didn’t plan to throw Belos a sympathetic moment of genuine loneliness, before doubling down? Not that they really would’ve needed to. But if they planned it, the writers had to leave it out to prioritize the weirdos this show is actually about, due to the shortening.

#the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #lilith clawthorne #caleb wittebane #the owl house hunter #darius deamonne #Luz Noceda #the owl house collector #king clawthorne #Eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #raine whispers #camila noceda #the owl house boscha #fandom salt #white favoritism

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ashwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Friends to lovers with Eddie and Reader, Reader loves to watch romcom movies, and she always wonders when is she gonna fall in love, and Eddie has been in love with her for the past two years, but he's afraid that she wouldn't feel the same, so he tells Steve and Steve and Robin (and the gang) try to help Eddie in finding out if Reader likes Eddie too, but she's a bit clueless, so that makes it more difficult, until one night at a party at Steve she confess Eddie that she loves him (she started to fall in love some time ago, but she didn't realized that it was love what she felt for Eddie), and he's surprised and doesn't know what to say, and Reader thinks he doesn't loves her and she goes to her house crying, but Eddie goes to her house and he starts to throw rocks in her window and he tells her that he loves her 🩷

Hi! I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it :) thank you for requesting and your patience! 🩷

Just like in the movies

Eddie wasn't sure what falling in love would feel like, or if he was capable of it. He didn't know much about love or romance at all. Well, until he met his best friend, Y/N. The girl was obsessed with romance movies. And Eddie was forced to watch them with her. He slept through half of the movies, but the ones he stayed awake for he remembered well. He found himself understanding the movie, and he realized he felt everything for the girl next to him.

He fell in love and he had no idea what to do next.

~~~

Two years later, he was still trying to figure it out. He had no idea how to say it or how to tell her. He couldn't tell if she felt the same. She never talked about boys, but to be fair he never talked about girls. He wanted to tell her, but he didn't want to lose the one person who always stayed with him.

He did one thing he never thought he'd do in his life....he asked Steve for help.

~~~

Steve and Robin's job was to find out how Y/N felt about Eddie and if any feelings were stronger than friendship.

And it turned out to be a lot harder than they thought. She didn't quite understand what they were trying to figure out, just a tad clueless.

"Do you like Eddie?" Steve asked, Robin stood next to him.

"Of course I do, he's my friend." Robin rolled her eyes as Y/N replied. Quick to follow with another question. "Okay, but like more than a friend?"

"Duh! He's my best friend." Y/N said, not understanding what they were asking.

"Okay! But let's say, would you want to date Eddie? Like being in a relationship?" Steve tried but still fell flat.

"I don't think I've ever heard Eddie going on a date or being in a relationship. How would I know if I wanted that if I only knew him as a friend?"

Eddie didn't get any answers that helped him figure her out.

But turns out he didn't need to. And it turns out she was faster than he was at admitting how she felt.

~~~

A few weeks later, Steve threw a birthday party for Robin. All their friends lingered in the living room when Y/N pulled Eddie outside.

Eddie had no idea where any of it was going. She stuttered and rambled. He tried to understand where she was taking the conversation but he was getting lost in the wild action of her hands.

Then right at the very end, she muttered out the words that made Eddie's world stop.

"So all of that made me realize I'm in love with you."

Eddie stared at her and she stared right back. Eddie wasn't sure if his brain tricked her words into saying what he wanted to hear or if she truly confessed. He sat there trying to figure it out, not knowing with each minute he was silent, the more she was prepared to run.

"I..." but before he could continue his thought, she raced to her car. Eddie panicked and ran after her but she was faster than him. Eddie cursed himself in the head for never doing sports. She took off before he reached her car.

He quickly raced inside the house to grab his keys, wishing Robin a happy birthday as he went out the door.

He started his van and drove to her house, praying she wasn't going to hide somewhere where he couldn't find her. When he pulled up and saw her car, he was relieved. He quickly got out of his van and knocked on her door. He knocked for what felt like forever, but nothing.

He huffed and went into her yard, searching for which room was hers through the window. Once he found it, he looked around the yard for rocks. Collecting a few pebbles one by one threw them at her window.

Y/N was confused when she heard small cracks against her window. She sat up and followed the sound.

Eddie Munson was throwing rocks at her window, horribly. Half the rocks hit the window and half smacked the house.

"HEY! STOP!" she screamed, a smile on her face as he jumped.

"YOU WOULDN'T OPEN THE DOOR!" he yelled back. Neither cared that they were screaming in the middle of the night.

"DID YOU TRY THE DOORBELL?" she laughed

Eddie shook his head with an apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY DO IN THE MOVIES."

She rolled her eyes and called him back up to her room, this time going downstairs to open the door.

They settled in her room, and a little bit of silence passed between them before she spoke up.

"So, what are you doing here?" It was a dumb question, she knew why he was here but more silence was killing her.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted back there. I was just so shocked that you felt the same way as me. I've been trying for two years to say how I felt. I wasn't expecting you to beat me to it, or for you to love me back. But I do love you! I love you so much and I'm sorry I've been too chicken to say anything." He confessed, he loved the way it felt like a weight was off of his shoulders. He loved that he wasn't carrying around a big secret anymore.

"You love me too? For two years?" She was surprised. She was shocked he loved her too, but even more shocked that he's been in love with her for the past two years.

"Yeah....I had no idea how to confess it to you. I was really worried I'd scare you off or you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."

"You'd never scare me away, Eddie." She smiled, grabbing his hand as he held it in her lap.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, already leaning in as she moved closer to him.

"I'm happy it didn't take you an additional two years to ask." She joked, smiling as he flicked her nose.

"Whatever." He chuckled, cupping her jaw as he softly placed his lips on hers.

If someone was narrating this part for them, they'd describe how Eddie's body felt like it was on fire and that they both felt electricity as their lips touched.

But this wasn't a movie, it was reality and Eddie was damn grateful for that.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson angst to fluff

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captain-mj · 11 months

Text

Home Video

Soap and Gaz find mysterious home videos in Price's garage

Price had enlisted Gaz to help him do some spring cleaning of a garage he had and Gaz had complained to Soap who had immediately volunteered to help them. Price had been less than thrilled that Gaz had invited Soap to help go through his personal things, but he could admit the garage was huge and filled to the brim so maybe it was fair.

The three men stepped into it and Gaz groaned. “It looks like a hoarder has lived here for a couple of years!! How did this even happen??”

Price looked sheepish at least. “Yeah… So long story short, I uh… just shoved things in here for the longest time.”

Soap and Gaz stared at him for a few minutes before Price sighed. “Okay, maybe I am a bit of a hoarder. But that’s besides the point. I want this cleaned.”

Soap examined it for a few minutes before sighing. “Alright, I volunteered. Not going to complain.”

“Cool. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“What??” Soap whipped around.

Price sighed. “I’ll give you both twenty pounds. You don’t need to get all of it cleaned, just some of it okay?”

“Alright, Captain.” Gaz sighed and stepped into it. Soap got to work right next to him. Luckily nothing was gross, mostly just dusty, but items of all sorts were just… scattered. Everywhere. Clothes, children’s toys, model planes, military memorabilia and weirdly a box of christmas lights. Occasionally they’d get lucky and find a box. Soap noticed one of them had marker on it and it was filled to the brim with vhs tapes. Unlike everything that was boxed where it was clearly stuffed in there, these were neatly organized by year. He flipped the lid back over to see the label again and actually read it this time.

“Tommy and Riley.”

Soap frowned and tried to wrack his brain for any memory of who that could be. He was pretty sure he knew all of Price’s relatives.

His mom? Dead but her name was Brenda.

His dad? Dead but his name was Charles.

No siblings. So no nephews or nieces. And not a single person that Soap could think of who would be named Tommy or Riley.

“Gaz. I found something.” Soap picked up one of the older looking ones. It had a label, but it was smeared to hell. He could vaguely make out an S and IRTH.

“Soap, you’re not going to believe this.” Gaz lifted up a VCR player.

“It’s clearly fate.” Soap said immediately.

“Exactly, we gotta watch them.”

It took them a few minutes to set up in Price’s living room, but they managed to get everything up and running and they popped a tape in.

There were four people. A blond lady, a dark haired man and their two sons, presumably. One of them looked like the spitting image of his mom with blond hair and the other was more ginger. The two boys were clearly excited.

The lady lit a few candles on the cake in front of them. “How does it feel to be four Tommy?” She asked and her voice was so soft. It had a Manchester accent that reminded him a little bit of Ghost, but there was also a clear London influence.

Tommy, the blond one, smiled up at her. He was missing a few teeth. A few more than the average kid his age, but maybe he just lost a bunch of his baby teeth at one time. “Cake!”

She laughed and the other kid, who didn’t look much older, rolled his eyes. “Tommy! Hurry up and blow out the candles!!”

Their mom ruffled his hair. “Hey, now, a little patience okay? Make a wish and blow out the candles.”

Tommy seemed to think long and hard before blowing them out.

The man spoke for the first time and Soap’s heart jumped. It sounded like a scratchy version of Ghost’s voice and Soap did not like it. “What did you wish for kid?”

“For Simon to stop being a jerk!” Tommy poked his brother hard.

“Since you said your wish, it’s not going to come true!”

“Simon, stop antagonizing your brother.”

Simon stuck his tongue out at Tommy while Soap had a mental breakdown.

“Simon Riley.” Soap put it together. “Oh my God, it’s fucking Ghost!” Gaz shifted, staring at the tiny kids on the screen.

Soap watched the two of them squabble while their mom cut the cake. She smiled, but when she came a bit more into view, he noticed her arm was bandaged and it clearly hurt a bit to move it. Their father stayed in the same position, arms crossed over his chest and a bored look on his face. The video ended after a moment and Soap popped another one in.

Gaz looked like he was going to say something for the briefest of moments before just watching them with him.

The next one was similar. Just holiday stuff. Simon didn’t look very happy in this one, staring off in the distance for most of it. He winced when his dad hit his shoulder and quickly rubbed his arm like it hurt. His mom handed him a gift though and he beamed.

“There’s my good boy.” She ruffled his hair as he unwrapped the present. He was methodical, undoing the tape so he could take the wrapping off without tearing it. Soap was fascinated.

Gaz grabbed a video from further into the box and they were met with a teenage Tommy getting ready in a mirror. With skull makeup. It was uncanny, the only difference between the two being their eyes. Tommy’s were a bright green. Simon stood next to him, slightly shorter than him. At first, Soap thought he had to be sitting down, but no. He was in fact slightly shorter.

Simon leaned into his younger brother, makeup covered the bottom half of his face, making a giant fake Glasgow smile that Soap felt was a little ironic considering Ghost had a real one.

“You done?” Simon’s voice had just started to deepen, sounding a little more like the voice Soap was used to hearing over comms. It definitely sounded younger though, clearly a teen. He also looked like a teen, mostly thanks to him wearing dorky sunglasses and a leather jacket that didn’t fit his shoulders right.

“Give me a second, Si.” Tommy grumbled, voice still cracking a little from puberty. He looked annoyed as he once again tried to get the lines straight. He finally managed and looked proud of himself. “How do I look?”

“Like a loser.” Simon responded but he smiled at him. Tommy rolled his eyes and picked up the camera. The two of them left then with him carrying the camera around. Both of them were talking about something and then they set the camera in the back of a car. Their dad climbed into the driver’s side and he looked at Simon in the front seat.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Uh…”

His dad took them off his face and Simon’s eyes were very red. There was also some bruising where it looked like he had been decked.

“Are you high?”

“Yeah. Got some weed from Jason. You want some, dad?”

His dad laughed. “Course you’d get high on something like weed. Nah, I’m good. Got some needles in the back.” He ruffled Simon’s hair who smiled, relaxing into his seat.

Soap looked at Gaz who looked just as taken back by it. Simon fixed his sunglasses and they continued going to wherever they were going. His dad put on the radio and they all three belted out the 90’s rock.

Soap wondered if Simon still listened to it. Did he sing in the car when they weren’t around?

Once he got out, he saw that their dad also had skull paint on and he looked even more like Simon than Tommy did. He looked at the camera for a moment before hitting Tommy rather hard for it to be playful. “Fucking idiot, you ran the battery down. I swe-” The camera clicked close.

Soap decided to pick the next one, since Gaz obviously had bad taste, and he got one that was on the complete other side of the box. He slipped it in and sat next to Gaz eagerly.

An adult Simon and Tommy. Simon must’ve finally gotten taller because he was now several inches taller than Tommy. They were at a concert and clearly high on something, but they looked happy. Soap couldn’t argue that. Tommy kept glancing at Simon, clearly wanting to say something but Simon didn’t acknowledge it. The video went out for a bit, some shitty rock band playing live in the background.

“Hey Simon?”

“Yeah?”

Tommy paused before shaking his head. “I’m so-”

“Don’t be. Stuff happens. As long as it wasn’t you that got hurt.”

“But your ribs…”

“I’ll be fine. I’m your older brother. It’s my job to protect you, ya know?” Simon smiled and it looked sad.

They changed that one rather fast.

It opened to a group of fish. They were all moving about slowly.

A small child started to talk. “Did you know sharks are older than trees?

“Really?” Ghost. Soap recognized his voice right away. “I did not know that.” He sounded like he was smiling.

“Also, scientists can age sharks like a tree too!”

“No way. How could they do that?”

“They count the rings on their vertebrae.” The camera turned to them. Soap wasn’t sure who was holding the camera, but he didn’t really need to. Simon was standing there, unmasked and wearing a short sleeved shirt. His arms were covered in little tattoos and on his shoulders was a small kid. Tiny little hands were buried in Ghost’s hair to keep himself stable. “But they have to hurt the sharks to do that.”

Simon smiled, looking like the absolute gift he was. “Yeah. We don’t want that. If I meet any sharks, I’ll just ask their birthday, huh Joseph?”

Joseph smiled and they looked exactly like each other. Simon took him off his shoulders and started walking to the camera person, swinging Joseph back and forth as he walked. There were scars on his face already. Soft ones along his mouth. But he looked so pretty. So young too. Rather young to be a father, though the way he talked with the kid and the fact that there didn’t seem to be anyone else, it made sense.

Was the person holding the camera the mom? Were they married? Just dating? Were they still together? Ghost was also on leave. Was he with her right now?

Soap had never really… thought of that. He should’ve, but stuff like that doesn’t always come out during conversations with soldiers. Ghost was a lone wolf though, so Soap always assumed he was completely alone.

How old was this kid now? Based on the age, he assumed the kid would be a teen now, right?

Simon threw the kid in the air and caught him, hugging him close to his chest. He laughed. Genuinely. It was so sweet sounding. He smiled right at the camera.

“You two look cute!”

Simon blushed. “Ah, it’s all the little guy.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Joseph kicked his feet and Simon put him down. He clinged to Simon’s hand as they walked. Simon was clearly about to say something but the video ended.

Gaz looked at Soap. “Ghost is a dad??”

“Oh my God, Ghost is a dad.” Soap echoed, staring at the now blank screen. “He picked the name Joseph though. What a boring name.” He looked away and hoped Gaz wouldn’t catch his expression.

Ghost was a dad and never told him? He understood everyone else. Price obviously knew. But why not tell him? They were close he thought!

Gaz popped another one in while he was distracted. It was from the same section so it was more about Joseph. All of the focus was on the kid actually. Where before, the camera was just pointed in their general vicinity, someone was clearly holding the camera to make sure to capture everything.

Joseph tore open his presents with a fierce ferocity, grinning. He grabbed the legos and immediately looked at Simon who was just off to the side.

“Ya gotta help me build them!!”

Simon nodded. “I will, don’t worry.” He smiled at him. His hair was buzzed like the standard military cut. The rest of the birthday went with most of the focus on Joseph, who looked even more like Simon than before, and occasionally a pretty lassie with red hair.

Soap got an answer to who was behind the camera when Simon smiled at him. “Cute kid right Tommy?”

“Fucking cutest.”

“Swear jar.”

“Kill yourself, Simon.”

Simon laughed and Beth smiled at the camera too. Joseph seemed oblivious to the adults around him, still trying to tear open another present.

The next video was a little more confusing. There was jostling and it was just Tommy. He set the camera down for just a moment to fix himself. After making sure his rather casual outfit was straight, he picked up the sign that had a simple “Sergeant Simon Riley” painted on it. He held it up immediately and beamed, completely forgetting the camera on the seat.

Simon slowly made his way over. There was a very pronounced limp and he was holding himself like he was in a lot of pain. Tommy looked worried, but he grabbed everything and they got a glimpse at the bandages. They were wrapped all the way around Soap’s throat and were across the bottom half of his face. Dark circles under his eyes gave away how exhausted he was.

“Hey, Si… you okay?”

Simon blinked slowly before nodding. He went to take another step but Tommy quickie got under his arm, offering support. The camera went off.

“Price might be here soon. It’s been close to an hour.” Gaz pointed out, but Soap could see it. The curiosity for more. More answers, more information, more of seeing Ghost not be… Ghost.

“Just one more.” Soap grabbed another one from that side of the box and popped it in.

He could tell as soon as it started playing that something was wrong.

Simon looked… exhausted. He had a medical mask on and a hoodie, yet still seemed to be shivering. His eyes were another factor. They shifted around frantically, clearly afraid of something, even though he was in the exact same home he had been in.

The camera was from an odd angle, like someone was recording him from a different room.

Joseph slipped past the cameraman and Soap saw an older woman’s hand reach out to grab him but it was too late. Joseph stood right in front of Simon and all of his attention was immediately on him.

“Hey, Joseph.”

“Do you want to watch movies with me?”

There was a pause. The kid had certainly aged, must’ve been at least a year since the last one, but he was still so young. A baby in the grand scheme of things.

Simon slowly scooted over to make room but Joseph still sat right next to him, invading his personal space as children often did. He put on a movie himself, it looked like a Disney one, and started talking.

“Mom said you used to watch movies with me all the time, especially when I was little. She said you worried about dropping me so you only ever held me if you sitting down.”

Simon shrugged. “You were tiny. Still are.”

“Hey! I’m 5 now!”

“Still tiny. Worried I’d… hurt you somehow.”

“Mom and Grandma said you’re scared now. Is it because you think that again?”

Simon slowly reached up and pushed his hood back. His hair was far longer and not evenly cut. Soap could see where there was scarring along his throat as well as the edges of bandages that went under his mask. “No. I don’t think I’d hurt you.”

“Good. So you’re going to keep watching movies with me right?”

“Yeah. I’ll always watch movies you, kid.” Simon didn’t relax as Joseph cuddled up to him. Even after Joseph fell asleep, he stayed stiff.

The person holding the camera moved closer and Simon immediately moved his head to look at her. He was afraid for just a moment and his hands immediately covered Joseph to protect him first.

“Hey, Mum.” Simon’s eyes were tired, but… they weren’t Ghost’s. There was a spark of something there that wasn’t present in Ghost’s.

“I knew he could cheer you up.”

Simon let out a tiny huff and his eyes started to close. Her hand gently cupped his cheek and he finally relaxed. “There’s my good boy.” She whispered softly and he let out a shaky breath, like he was trying not to cry. He fell asleep after a few minutes and she tucked them both in.

“You kept them?”

Soap and Gaz both screamed, looking up at Ghost who seemed impassive. There was nothing in his eyes to indicate anything, let alone something as trivial as how he was feeling.

Price grimaced. “Yeah. I had planned on giving them back to you when I found you in Mexico, but you were in such a bad place I decided to wait and then I just never found a good time.”

Ghost nodded and watched as his Mom set the camera down on the counter as she did her hair. She must’ve forgot the camera was still on.

“You’re a dad?” Gaz asked, much braver than Soap ever could be about it.

“Joseph is my nephew.” Ghost explained, not taking his eyes off the screen. She pulled away to start making tea, humming a Beatles song as she did. She must’ve heard something because she disappeared suddenly and then was leading a shaking Simon in. He held on to her, looking more like a lost kid than a 6’4 adult man.

“Sit down, love.”

“She had sixth sense for when I had nightmares. Even when I was a kid.” Ghost sounded delicate. It was new. Price gave them a signal to keep quiet. “When I came home, I had them so often, but she would always be there. Usually with a cup of tea or she’d try to push me back to bed.”

She started speaking again and Ghost went quiet, just like the version of him on the screen, he hung on every word. “You’re okay. You’re right here with me, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Whatever happened, whatever they said, you’re alive, safe at home. We all are, alright Simon?”

Simon nodded slowly and tried to grab the cup she set down in front of him. His hands shook too hard, the liquid spilling on to his fingers. He winced and she quickly took the cup from him to set it down. She made sure the burns weren’t too bad before smiling.

All at once, she remembered the camera and quickly grabbed it. “Oh i was supposed to be recording Joseph but he ran off to play with you and I just got so…” She shut the camera and the video ended.

Ghost stared and Soap saw it. The tiny flicker of sadness. Soap grabbed his hand, deciding to try to be brave.

“What happened to her?”

“Same thing that happened to Joseph and Tommy and Beth. They’re a bunch of gravestones.”

“Seems they really cared about you.”

“...Yeah. They really did.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick

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beardedjoel · 8 months

Text

closer | part twenty one

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: it's joel's birthday, and you've got one thing on your mind when you pay him a surprise visit, the first time you've seen each other in weeks. 10.6 k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, grinding, unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation / multiple orgasms, posessive! joel, tinitest of spit kinks (blink and you'll miss it) a/n: thanks for the patience amazing readers, this one feels like it took me ages to get posted, but i'm feeling good about how it turned out! i hope it lives up to what y'all were hoping for joel and reader! heheheh

Birthdays have never been Joel’s favorite, and the older he got, the less he looked forward to waking up another year older. He supposes that most people feel that way as they age, anyways, and tries not to pay it much mind. He wakes up that Friday, his birthday, wishing it was just any other day. But knowing Tommy, he’ll have something up his sleeve for today, and he groans internally and externally as he sits up and climbs out of bed. If this is what being forty three feels like - back aching, stiff knees, living without the girl he loves due to his own colossal stubbornness - he doesn’t want any part of it.

Grumbling to himself as he gets ready, taking a quick shower and running his hands through his wet hair to try and have some semblance of a good appearance, Joel vows to just try to just get through the day. He doesn’t fail to notice the way he’s checked his phone several times while he was getting ready, knowing the reason why is wishful hoping that you’ll text him. The only reason he could find to care about his birthday is if it was you recognizing it, he thinks with a growing twinge of sadness in his chest. Messaging you first seems like too much, like he’s asking for you to wish him a happy birthday, and the thought makes Joel instantly cringe, the long standing pit in his stomach falling deeper.

He’d just try to make it through the day, that was all, that was his motto right now. He found himself saying that more days than not recently, though. How many more days until he just couldn’t make it through the day, until this little motto lost all its meaning?

He sighs, deep in thought as he pulls up to work for the day, expecting the worst. If there’s even one party decoration in sight, Joel swears he just might wring Tommy’s neck. His day goes uneventfully for the most part, much to his surprise. While Tommy chose to spare him on the decorations, he did bring a chocolate sheet cake to their job site for everyone to enjoy, and Joel’s thankful it doesn’t have too much frill to it. Tommy just had to have them write on it, making sure to put his age and everything out there for the world to see - Happy 43rd Birthday Joel! He swears the numbers are bigger than anything else on the cake, and he can picture Tommy requesting that exact thing at whatever bakery counter he’d ordered this from.

Regardless of his sour mood, the cake tastes so good that Joel finds himself having a second slice, and he claps Tommy on the shoulder, thanking him for going through the trouble at the end of their workday.

“No problem, brother. Know I love ya. You ready to head out to Murray’s?” Tommy asks, and Joel gives him a curt nod.

Tommy had agreed to drive Joel to the bar after dropping the cake and Joel’s truck off - that way he could drink as much as he wanted and Tommy had convinced one of their site managers, Don, into being a designated driver for the night to take Joel home afterwards. Don had grumbled on, saying why couldn’t Tommy do it but he knew Tommy Miller was a drinker, and wouldn’t want to miss out on celebrating his brothers’ birthday in the only way he knew how - getting belligerently wasted.

Typically, Joel may have indulged just as much as Tommy on a night like this, especially with how much he was additionally hating his birthday this year compared to other years. If you’d told Joel this time last year he’d end up sitting with a broken, hurting heart on his next birthday, he probably would have scoffed at the idea. Joel just simply wasn’t feeling up for having more than a few beers tonight, ready to call it an early night and forget this day ever happened.

He was already sick of watching the door religiously, a man with one prayer uttered over and over in his head for you to walk through it any minute, glowing and radiant as always, here to cure everything that ailed him right now. As far-fetched as he knew the idea was, it ate away at the back of his mind throughout the entire few hours he spent there while he tried to not be completely horrible company to be around. At least everyone else seemed to be having a good time for his birthday, he thought with a scornful chuckle to himself, shaking his head a little bit.

When he finally convinces Don to take him home, Joel feels relief as his house comes into view. He wants to just change out of his clothes, put on some TV, and binge eat cake until he falls the fuck asleep in front of the screen and can move on from his birthday. Don seems to sense Joel’s increasingly self deprecating mood, and gives him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, wishing him another happy birthday and telling him to get some rest.

Joel is focused now, so close to the safe, warm, comfort of his home and his little plan for the rest of his night that he fails to notice you sitting in the shadows on his porch until your voice squeaks out and nearly has him jumping out of his skin.

“Hey stranger… Happy birthday,” you say, and Joel hears your voice, so sweet and quiet, but can barely register it. You look like you’ve walked straight out a dream of his, even in the dark he can see your pretty eyes framed by your delicate eyelashes fluttering as you blink nervously, the way your dress is hugging in all the right places before it falls just around your knees. He feels like his breath is torn right out of his lungs, and he’s frozen right there, keys halfway in the lock, just looking at you. Your name slips quietly out of his lips as a question, almost unintentionally, and you straighten a little more in your seat at hearing it.

“Wh-what’re you doin’ here?” Joel asks, finally finding his voice.

“Waiting for you,” you say candidly, and Joel just blinks for a moment, looking at you.

“Hope it wasn’t long… I was at the bar.”

“I uh, I know,” you tell him, and Joel’s brow crinkles a little in confusion. “Tommy told me. Actually, he invited me…” Joel interrupts with an irritated scoff at Tommy, muttering “asshole” under his breath to his non-present brother.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go,” you say, giving him a small, lopsided smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt your nice evening with… well, me.”

Joel’s mind is spinning now, taking all of this information in. He’s still reeling from just seeing you after so long, looking just as perfect as always, and now he’s expected to have a conversation with you when he can barely think straight.

When he doesn’t respond for a few moments, shifting in place, you glance to the other wicker chair next to you and motion to it. “Want to sit with me?” you ask, giving him a hopeful smile, your eyes shining and slightly wet. Were you close to crying? Joel felt a pull in his chest at the sight of you like this.

“‘Course, sorry,” Joel replies, shaking his head a little bit to bring himself back. “Jus’ a little surprised to see ya.”

“Sorry, if it’s not a good time, I can go,” you say quickly, sitting impossibly close to the edge of the chair, ready to leave at a moment’s notice if necessary.

“No, no s’alright. Stay, sit back,” Joel says, waving you off and finally taking a seat next to you. You end up scooting back, getting a little more comfortable as you lean back in the chair and look over at Joel, a mixture of expectation and anxiousness written on your face.

“So… it’s your birthday,” you say with a teasing glint in your eyes, and Joel gives you a playful glare.

“Would seem that way, wouldn’t it,” Joel replies with an amused huff.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to Murray’s,” you apologize again, “I didn’t want to make it a weird thing, since we haven’t… y’know, seen each other in a while.”

“Oh…” Joel says, musing for a moment. “Yeah, makes sense. But you’re here, now.” Joel feels a smile pull at his lips as he dares to look a little closer at you, seeing the familiar features of yours that he loves so much up closer. It’s been far too long since he got to gaze at you like this, he thinks to himself.

“I am,” you say, returning his smile. “Had to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Could’ve jus’ called,” Joel teases, despite feeling beyond elated that you’d showed up on his porch tonight. “Glad you didn’t, but just hope you didn't go through too much trouble.”

“If I had just called…” you say, dragging your words out, “How could I give you this?” You nudge a box on the little table in between the two chairs you’re sitting on towards him, and it’s the first time Joel even noticed it between it being dark outside and his transfixion on your face. He smiles tentatively as he gathers the box into his hands, pulling it onto his lap and inspecting it. A bright, confetti pattern adorns the wrapping paper with a shining red bow on top. It’s neat, tidy, perfect - exactly the kind of wrapping job he’d expect from you with so much thoughtfulness put into it.

“This is… real nice,” Joel stutters out. “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even opened it,” you say with a chuckle. You seem nervous - Joel clocks your hands moving around anxiously in your lap, a telltale sign that you’re thinking too much.

“Either way, even if it’s total crap in here, it looks great,” Joel says with a light laugh, one you return, and he can see your tension easing. Joel lets his fingers tuck under the flaps of the paper as he tears it open, revealing a small, wooden box. He lets his hand run along the outside, a quizzical look on his face as he inspects it.

“Open it already, you’re killing me,” you blurt out playfully, your hand going to your mouth to absentmindedly chew on a nail.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses,” Joel says, his eyes brightening with delight at the situation. He’s still not entirely sure any of this is real, but he savors the moment for another second before opening the wooden box perched on his lap.

Inside is an intricate, gorgeous set of hand tools for woodworking, neatly arranged in the box, all with their own little placeholders. Joel gapes at it, not even realizing how many times his mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to say. He can make out enough detail on everything in the dim porch light, but he’d bet these will be even more beautiful once he can get a good look at them.

“Don’t even know what to say, darlin’... this is…” Joel trails off, picking up one of the tools and inspecting it. “This is too much.”

“No, it’s not, Joel,” you defend immediately, stiffening in the chair. You’re absolutely ready to go to war with whatever Joel’s thoughts are telling him right now.

“Y-you shouldn’t have done all of this. Don’t deserve a gift like this from you.” He shakes his head slowly, still keeping his eyes on the box in his lap, not wanting to look at you and show all the vulnerability in his eyes.

“That’s just not true Joel, I wanted to buy this for you, show you how much you still mean to me. Close the box and look at the lid again.” Joel gives you a weary look in response but does as you ask, inspecting the lid closer, and that’s when he spots it.

“See? It has your initials, right there,” you say, reaching over to point it out to him, your hand brushing dangerously close to his, and Joel feels his heart skip slightly in his chest at the proximity.

“I see that…” Joel sighs out, finally meeting your gaze. “This is perfect, sweetheart. Thank you,” he says solemnly, and while you don’t misunderstand Joel’s reaction, you feel a twinge of sadness that he’s having a hard time accepting this gift.

“I just noticed you didn’t have a ton of tools yet when you showed me your woodworking table, and I saw all those little wooden carvings you were doing - animals and stuff, so I thought maybe you’d need this,” you explain anxiously, giving Joel a half smile.

“Yeah, y’are right about that, didn’t have everything I needed yet. Been havin’ a hard time… with the small stuff…” Joel’s voice is coming out quieter than he wants, but he’s overcome with emotion right now. He swipes his hand over his eyes, trying to get his bearings, but you keep a steady gaze on him, observing his passing emotions. Joel feels your hand on his suddenly, fingers soft and delicate as you reach over from your chair to touch him.

“I want you to have this,” you say, and Joel looks up to see your lips curved up softly, eyes gentle and looking like they’re staring right into his very soul. Your fingers wrap around his hand, still closed around the box on his lap, and the warmth from your hand alone is taking him to another place, having wished and pined for your touch for so long now.

“Alright, I believe ya, then. Thank you again, it’s really… somethin’,” Joel says, a little bit of confidence growing in his voice again, and it lifts a small weight off of your chest to hear it.

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, giving his fingers a squeeze before starting to pull your hand back towards yourself. Joel’s hand catches it before it even leaves the vicinity of his chair, and holds on again, gripping tightly around your fingers.

You two sit for what feels like an eternity, just his hand holding yours, both of your eyes full of questioning, possibility, and something… more.

“I have something else… for your birthday,” you manage to say just above a whisper, your voice low and saccharine as you shift forward in your seat, sliding to the edge and standing up. You still haven’t let go of Joel’s hand, using it to guide yourself the few steps over to his seat. You fluidly guide your legs on either side of his hips and slide onto him, settling yourself to straddle his lap. Where your hands join, you guide it to settle on your hip, and Joel follows suit with the other hand, gently touching you as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

Honestly, he was. He was so afraid of that possibility that he stiffened under your weight, panic rising up in his chest. He couldn’t deserve this, he couldn’t be allowed this happiness again.

You read his tensing body immediately, and snake a hand up to ghost along his cheek, brushing gently with the back of your hand. Joel lets out a sigh at the softness of your touch, the repressed longing built up in every cell of his body finding some escape in this one little puff of air exiting his lungs. His eyes flutter closed as you do it again, flipping your hand this time to rake the pads of your fingers down his cheek and through his beard.

“I-” Joel starts, a rasp to the little noise that breaks your heart. When you look into his eyes, you find nothing there but desolation in his warm brown, and you shake your head slightly.

“Shh,” you say soothingly, leaning forward slightly, “I know. I know.” Your head goes into the crook of his neck, your hot breath alone sending a shiver down his spine before you multiply it with a brush of your lips against his warm skin. Fluttering kisses along his neck, taking your time with each one, feeling and hearing Joel sigh deeply each time your lips touch him. When you reach his ear, taking the lobe into your mouth and giving it a gentle suck, Joel seems to melt a little before coming to his senses enough to speak up.

“You shouldn’t be… don’t deserve…” Joel murmurs. You pull back slightly, nuzzling your nose against the side of his cheek, taking the other side of his face into your palm, pressing yourself as close as you can. He catches the scent of your shampoo as your hair falls forward over the back of your head, right into his face. A scent he’d started to forget, nearly panicking the day he’d realized it was happening. A scent that he could have spent a lifetime searching for in drug and beauty store aisles, knowing it could never compare to this moment right here, when it was combined with you. Joel breathes in shakily, his erratic inhales and exhales showing just how close he is to breaking down.

“I want you, more than just this. I want you, Joel,” you say, your confession laid bare. Joel’s heart thuds so loud he’s worried you can hear it clear as day as you two sit in a tense silence. You hold yourself against him with baited breath, now just left to wait for his response.

“You mean…” Joel starts, afraid to dare the question to leave his tongue for fear of your answer.

You nod into him. “Yes,” you breathe. “Can we… try again? I’m ready, if you want it still.” You keep your voice low, vibrating right against his ear, and Joel lets another shudder wrack his body. He feels impossibly taut, like his muscles could snap at any moment, like he could fully break. But when he hears your words, he feels an instant release, the breaking of a thread that had been pulling, pulling, pulling, these last few months, slowly choking the life out of him. It was gone now. His chest nearly ached with the sudden lightness, and he fought the urge to clutch at it, not wanting to let go of where he held your hips even for a second.

“If I want it? If I want it…?” Joel echoes in disbelief. His arms slide around to your back, folding you deeper into his embrace and he chokes back a sob. “All I’ve ever wanted… right here,” he says, tugging you even closer, impossibly close, so that you’re nearly melding together into the same person.

“Joel…” you manage to say, choked up with your own tears now. You could never express just how right everything feels at this moment, being back in Joel’s arms, being so sure of it when you’d been riddled with every worry and anxiety about this exact moment for weeks. You knew that you’d made the right decision, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

“I got you, I got you, sweetheart,” Joel says, his hand now gripping the back of your head as you hang your head onto his shoulder, burying into his neck and taking in his scent with a shaky breath, quickly blinking away your tears.

You push back against his hand, bringing yourself to eye level with him and peering into his eyes for what feels like the first time all over again. The emotion swirling there is nearly unreadable - a mixture of joy, care, wonder, and lust, and it’s all being directed at you, nearly taking your breath away. Before you can think, your lips crash into his, hard at first but turning delicate quickly, wanting to really feel this moment and the weight it has for you. Joel returns your passionate, slow kisses, his tongue begging entry into your mouth nearly immediately, and you let him, your tongues dancing together in the most beautiful way as you savor each other.

Your hips move with a mind of their own, slowly pushing forward onto Joel and back again, starting a steady grind on his lap. Joel groans so loudly you nearly jump, and you find a small moan escaping your lips when you continue going back in for more, more, more from him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly into your mouth as you brush over the now obvious hard bulge in his jeans with your warm heat. You intensify the way you’re kissing him now, wrapping your fingers tightly around the back of his neck and hooking them deeply into the dark curls lying there, tugging enough to elicit another little noise from Joel, more desperate this time.

He uses the opportunity to pull back slightly, his heavy breathing mingling with your own.

“Are you su-“ Joel starts, but you cut him off, not even wanting him to finish the question for the fact that he’d be harboring any thoughts that you have doubts about this.

“I’m sure,” you say with conviction, locking your eyes on his again. His eyes seem to harden with determination then, nearly going a shade darker in the dim lighting of the porch. Joel lips find yours again and he devours you, practically stealing your breath with the ferocity of it. His hands slide to your ass, gripping it tightly and bunching the thin fabric of your dress in his hands before he pushes on you, forcing you forward to grind on him again. You let out a little whimper at his forcefulness, having missed the way his hands so perfectly guide you and show you exactly what you need. How he knows exactly what you need every time may always remain a mystery to you, but you’re not one to question perfection.

You continue your steady movements on top of him, letting Joel push you forward each time, his jeans beginning to rub a perfect rhythm on your aching pussy. It’s nearly too much already, too much Joel after being away from this bliss for too long, and you break off your kiss just to bury your head in his shoulder, mewling quietly next to his ear as you quicken your pace on his lap.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby, fuck…” Joel breathes out, already completely undone by the way you two are moving together as he starts grinding his hips back into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest, nervous for some reason as you decide you want more, to move things along with him. You think you’ll combust soon if you two keep up only making out like a couple of teenagers. While it feels amazing to be reunited, you feel the need to show Joel just how serious you are about what you’ve told him.

Your hand shakes a little as you reach between the two of you to grab at Joel’s belt, swiftly undoing it amid many approving sounds from Joel as his lips attach themselves to your neck, kissing along the length of it and up to your face, covering as many spots as he possibly can with an undying eagerness to taste you on his lips.

Joel lets out a hiss when your hand reaches inside of his jeans, your fingers brushing along the soft fabric of his briefs, tracing the hard length of him inside.

“Is this okay?” you quietly rasp, and Joel’s approval stretches from his little smile to his eyes as he nods.

“Gonna make me crazy already, baby, the way you’re touchin’ me,” he says as you continue your movement along his shaft and wrap your hand tighter for a quick moment before sliding your hand inside of his briefs. The warmth of his skin blazes onto your hand as he throbs beneath you with your light strokes. Joel hums pleasantly, his eyes glazing over with need when you dare to peek into them. His head nearly lolls back onto the chair with a little groan when your finger swipes the head of his cock, feeling the wetness of his precum before you swirl it around the tip of his cock with your thumb.

Your entire body feels on fire, warm from the inside out as your core twists deep inside with need, the desire to feel him inside of you reaching a dangerous territory of necessity for you.

“Joel…” you coo as your cunt aches so sweetly for him, more than ready for him to completely own it again. You wrap a hand around his cock, fingers feeling so small around his girth that it makes your mouth water with anticipation for what’s to come.

“I know, baby,” Joel responds as you pull his cock out of his jeans, freeing the length of him and you gasp a little at the remembrance of the full size of him, already finding yourself picturing it being thrusted deep inside of you. Joel smirks at the starry-eyed look on your face as you take him in again and places his hands on your thighs, sliding your dress up higher.

“Missed my big fuckin’ cock, didn’t you?” Joel asks, so cocky and sure of himself that it sends another wave of desire straight to your clit and you can only find yourself nodding. “‘Course you did,” Joel adds on when he sees your speechless, practically drooling response to his question. Joel’s hand has been steadily moving your dress higher until his hands slide right to your ass, playing with the fabric of your panties, tracing his fingers along the lace.

Your hips lurch forward with anticipation, and you bring your lips down to Joel’s again, kissing him with pent up passion as one of his hands comes forward to cup your cunt, finding it desperately soaked for him, and he tuts into the kiss as if he can’t believe what he’s feeling. You push into his hand, your clit eager for any kind of movement on it, and Joel obliges, letting you grind onto his palm through your underwear for a few moments

“Need to see this pretty little thing,” Joel murmurs breathlessly, and you nod feverishly in agreement.

“Just fuckin’ rip them off, Joel,” you tell him, your lips barely leaving his to utter the words, and Joel growls deep in his throat at your eagerness, his fingers wrapping around the side of your panties to tear at them. You hear the splitting of seams as the fabric comes apart with a swift tug from Joel. It makes you feel impossibly feral that his strong hands made such quick work of the fabric that you can't help the moan that escapes you as you feel your panties fall away, completely ruined as Joel pulls them out from between you and tosses them to the ground, his lips never coming apart from yours.

You lift your hips up, giving Joel the opportunity to slide his cock between your legs, and you moan immediately at the way he feels against your slick folds. He grabs the base of his cock with one hand, and your ass with the other, guiding himself to rub back and forth against you until you’re breathing so erratically that you have to stop kissing Joel for fear you won’t be able to catch your breath. He increases the pace, and every time his plump head presses and brushes against your clit you feel the build up tighten in your core even more until you’re ready to burst, the tension reaching a high as you nearly choke on your words.

“I’m gonna… Joel… fuck, I’m oh -“

Your hips roll and spasm down onto his cock, and he keeps up the pace, brushing his head quickly over your pulsing clit in rapid motions as you ride out your orgasm. Your head buries into his chest, covering up your moans of his name as you yell it out into his shirt with a hand clutching tightly to the fabric.

“Good, so good, baby, yeah, just ride it out f’me,” Joel praises, stroking the back of your head, “Come all over this cock, f-fuck…”

You whimper and slump into him a little to catch your breath and come down, but the feeling of his soaked cock still pressing against your folds sets you off all over again, and you need more.

“Inside me… Joel… fuck….”

“C-can��t wait much longer either,” he says, uncharacteristically shaken, and he vibrates slightly with the effort of holding back, but you roll your hips onto his cock as he slides up your seam again, and then surprises you by pushing himself in, the head of his cock bursting into your entrance. You gasp at the intrusion initially, but sigh with relief at the feeling of him slowly, deliciously filling you up inch by inch, stretching you practically beyond your means until you’re completely full of him. You can’t help the warm feeling that spreads through you that this is what you were meant for, exactly where you’re supposed to be.

“Fuck,” Joel grits out, completely sheathed inside of you, feeling you squeeze him as you shift your hips to adjust to the fullness. “Just want to feel you for a second,” he says. “Missed this so much.”

Joel’s hands go back to gripping your hips tightly, not allowing any movement as he just feels you around his length, but you squirm in his grasp, making his cock push against your walls. You let out a whimpering sound at the feeling, and Joel bites the inside of his lip, barely able to contain himself between the small movements and sounds you’re making as you squirm and leak all over his cock, your arousal dripping down onto his jeans. You grip his shoulders for some leverage to begin moving as much as you can, and one of Joel’s hands frees your hip up to come grab your chin, pulling it tightly between his fingers as he forces you to look at him.

“Please…” you beg quietly, the throbbing, aching mess between your legs taking over any and all thoughts you have.

“You lookin’ for me to make you fuckin’ scream right here on this porch, are ya? Can’t wait until we’re inside?”

You shake your head with panting breaths from the exertion of trying to break out of Joel’s grasp to bounce your hips and feel him moving inside of you.

“Good,” Joel says, a devious smirk on his face, “‘Cause I can’t either.” With his words he pushes his hips up into you, affording him that tiny bit of extra space inside of you and you groan before he pulls his hips back, lifting yours at the same time before repeating the motion, slamming back into you hard and deep.

You cry out loudly, feeling him push against every part inside of you imaginable - have you always felt him this much, or is it just because you’d been deprived from the pure pleasure of Joel that it feels like so much more now?

You start returning his movements with equal vigor, your bodies ferociously coming together as the chair creaks underneath your bodies with the harsh movement.

“Gonna break this damn chair if we keep it up,” Joel says with a chuckle, lightening his movements only slightly.

“So what?” you manage to reply through stunted breaths as you slam yourself down onto Joel over and over.

“Need to fuck you properly anyways, darlin’, c’mere.” Joel’s hands cup underneath your thighs, urging you up off his lap as you help him lift you, wrapping your arms around his neck. You bury your face there, not wanting even a moment to go to waste as your lips find his neck again and suck hard. Joel yelps quietly as he moves you to the banister of his porch, perching you on the edge of it, and you grip even more tightly onto his back, feeling your balance completely off on the thin slab of wood underneath your ass.

“This is what you call proper?” You laugh, and Joel looks at you with a smirk before diving back in to kiss you, slowly grinding his hips into you now with nearly infuriating movements. You moan at the feel of every inch of him dragging out of you before pushing back in. You clench around him as your body shakes in his grip, unable to control the whimpering that escapes your lips.

“Y’seem to be enjoying it,” Joel retorts, and you’re too lost in the feeling of his cock to even conjure up a snarky response. “You want it faster though, don’t ya? I know how my angel likes to take my cock,” Joel rasps eagerly, and you groan as you nod your head, begging for more of him.

When he starts thrusting into you faster and harder, the banister rocks under the weight of it, but you can’t find it in you to care. Even if it all came crashing down and you two fell to the ground with it, you doubt either of you’d stop fucking the other with the way you’re both desperately panting now as Joel’s hips snap into yours repeatedly.

Your legs slide higher up Joel’s back, your ankles hooking together around him, trusting his arms completely to hold you up from falling off the porch railing. When your hips angle enough for Joel to get deeper, you moan as he presses against the spongy part inside of you that makes you absolutely crazy for him, and he smirks as he sees your eyes flutter with each new brush against the spot. You whine out his name, and Joel tucks in closer and kisses you in response.

“That good, baby?” he whispers gently, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely ravaging your body right now for anyone walking by to see. You’re grateful it’s late enough that it’s unlikely, but even then, you can't be bothered by the thought with the way Joel feels inside of you right now.

“So good,” you whimper in response, barely able to form words as your core ignites again, twisting in anticipation of another high. “You feel perfect.”

“That’s cause this pussy was made to take me, made to take this cock, baby, fuck…” Joel says, grunting as he thrusts into you. “Can feel you baby, you’re so close, give me another one, sweet girl,” Joel murmurs, pressing as flush to you as he can get. The sudden change gives some stimulation on your clit from the soft, dark curls above his cock, and combined with another brush against your g-spot, you’re losing a grip on reality so quickly you almost can’t keep up.

“Joel… Joel… harder,” you cry out, desperate for your climax to burst out of you, to claw its way out from the tingling pit now formed right where Joel’s cock is pressing deep inside of you. He obeys, thrusting into at an alarming rate, your legs helping his speed as you press them into him with every inward thrust, matching his rhythm.

You moan out long and low, the pleasure too much to take as the pressure builds to a point you nearly can’t take it anymore before you’re finally pushed over the edge by Joel biting into your neck. You hadn’t even noticed his head move down to do it, so lost in your own ecstasy, but the sensation of the pain with pleasure is enough to send you careening straight into your orgasm, practically screaming and sobbing with the intensity of it. Your slickness pours out onto Joel’s cock and he grunts and mumbles into your neck at the feeling before you feel the familiar sensation of you squirting, knowing the mess you’re making right now must be catastrophic between that and how hard you’d came.

Joel seems intent on adding onto it, at the tail end of your climax as your cunt squeezes his cock, he releases with a long, loud grunt, cursing under his breath as he fucks into your cunt a few more times and spills himself into you. Ropes of his cum coat your walls, the warmth filling you nearly sending you over the edge another time in the midst of your oversensitivity. You feel tears rolling down your cheeks from the comedown of such an intense moment with him, feeling so fulfilled and grateful to be his.

Joel sits for a long moment, his cock buried deep inside of you still, holding everything in that’s threatening to leak out around him. He pulls back from your shoulder and sees the few stray tears and smiles gently before kissing your cheeks, lapping them up in the process. When he does pull out, it’s then that you notice just how much of a depraved, wet, mess you two had made together. Joel can see and feel the mess between your legs and he tuts, half-impressed and half-teasing before helping you off the banister and onto your shaky legs.

“Fuckin’ messy girl for me, ain’t ya?“ Joel cocks an eyebrow at you.

You find yourself shying under his gaze, something that hasn’t happened for a long while now, and it feels refreshing in a way, almost like you two really are starting new. Joel wraps his arms around you after tucking himself back in, smoothing your dress down your backside for you.

“S’okay, just how I like you, my messy little thing,” he coos, pinching your cheek quickly, and you giggle, pressing yourself into his chest, just letting him hold you.

“You comin’ inside?” he asks, and you can hear the hesitation in his voice, like he truly believes you may not want to spend any more time with him, that you’ll regret what you two did any second.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you tease him, hoping to lighten his seemingly aching heart a bit and Joel smiles brightly in response.

“Good, ‘cause I’m nowhere near done with you yet,” he replies, meeting your lips for a long, deep kiss. Unbelievably, you feel a swirl of desire crop up in your belly at the sensation, his perfectly plump lips giving in to yours so delicately but so deeply, and you let out a little moan. Joel pulls away, chuckling. “Sounds like neither are you,” he adds on, looking at you expectantly.

“C’mon, let’s go cowboy,” you say, grabbing his hand to walk to the door together.

“Cowboy, huh? That’s new,” Joel comments with a questioning brow.

“Trying something out,” you tell him with a shrug, grinning, and Joel laughs as he unlocks his front door and leads you inside. The second the door shuts behind you, you find Joel on top of you again, his tall frame crowding over you and his hands on your hips, quickly roaming over your back, ass, shoulders, anywhere he can touch as he takes you in, holding you close to him. His head dips down to breathe in your scent again, getting completely lost in it. You shudder under the feeling of his breath near your ear, hot and needy right on the sensitive skin there.

“Sorry, sweetheart, jus’ can’t help myself right now. Fuckin’ missed bein’ able to hold you like this, touch you anytime I want,” Joel confesses, still not letting up the way his hands are moving, landing on your ass to knead the plush globes there.

“Missed it too,” you breathe out, not minding one bit the things he’s apologizing for, finding your body melting into his again.

“How many times you think I can make you come before I’m ready for ya again?” Joel asks next to your ear, one of his hands gliding to the front of your body and slipping under your dress, immediately going right between your legs. You’re still soaked, remnants of your time outside all over you, your pussy feeling fucked out but still managing to respond to his touch. He slides a finger onto your inner thigh, where his cum has been steadily starting to drip down, gathering it onto his fingers and dragging it upwards towards your cunt. He swipes it through your seam, gathering some of your own slickness and then stuffing all of it back inside of your ravaged hole, pushing his fingers as far as they’ll go.

“Fuck…” you whimper, arching your back. Joel’s frame pushes against you until your back is pressed into the door behind you, completely boxing you in with his body. His fingers start to work circles on your clit while the other hand comes up to palm your breast gently, rubbing it through the fabric.

“So fuckin’ pretty…” Joel murmurs, sliding a strap of your dress down your shoulder, hoping to reveal more of your skin to him. He seems to change his mind halfway through, pulling both of his hands off of you to grip at the bottom of your dress and pull upwards, lifting it off of you, leaving you standing naked before him. You tremble slightly at the feeling of being so exposed with him again, and the air conditioning of his house sending cool air dancing over your now goosebumped skin.

Joel takes you in, his eyes roaming over your body, temptation screaming in his blown out pupils. You writhe under his gaze slightly, desperate for him to return to touching you again, but he continues to take several long moments of looking at you before gently brushing a finger up your arm. You shiver more violently now, and Joel’s hand grazes inwards, finally landing at your nipple, pinching the taut bud and pulling hard on it. You cry out, back arching against the door as your knees begin to shake a little.

“God, baby, said you were pretty, but this is fuckin’ beautiful. Fuckin’ divine, lookin’ at you like this,” Joel says, shaking his head, entranced by watching his fingers pinch and roll your hard nipples.

“Joel… please,” you whine out, your thighs clamping together desperately, feeling wetness and heat pooling between your legs again.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what d’ya need…?”

“Touch my clit, Joel.”

“All you had to do was use your words.” He grins, obliging you by resuming the circles on your clit, more languidly this time as he keeps his other hand playing mercilessly with your pink buds. It’s no surprise when the familiar swelling of pleasure rapidly builds deep inside of you at Joel’s touch, your breathing labored as you shut your eyes and lean your head back on the door, moaning quietly.

“Eyes on me, baby, need ya to look at me when you come,” Joel says, voice soft and sweet, with his sudden grip on your chin to tilt your head back down anything but. His fingers grab tightly, greedily, at your delicate chin, holding your head in place as your eyes threaten to roll back at the way his fingers are working between your legs, tight, perfect circles being rubbed on your clit.

“Fuck, Joel, I-I’m coming,” you cry out, followed by several loud, staccato moans that drag out into long whimpers as you buck down onto his hand, body shaking and impossibly taut as you come. Stars invade your vision before it goes fully white, pleasure rocking what feels like every cell in your body. All you’re aware of for those few blissful moments are the way Joel’s fingers move, riding you through the climax, and how his name spills off your lips over and over, begging him for something you’re not even sure of yourself.

Throughout all of it, you try to keep your eyes locked on Joel’s, but can’t help it when your eyes squeeze shut in the high. When you finally peek them open, Joel looks at you with a satisfied sigh, his tight hold on your chin turning into a softer, gentler stroking leading up to your cheek. He brushes the hair away on your forehead that’s now stuck there with the small sheen of sweat you’d worked up and tucks it behind you ear, his lips turning up into a small smile.

He kisses you, his lips barely fluttering against yours in a soft meeting of your lips, one that isn’t meant to lead anywhere further. Just soft, loving presses over and over to your lips, and you’re finally coming out of your fucked our haze to be able to return them properly.

“Lemme take you to bed, hm?” Joel says, pressing his forehead to yours. You nod tiredly, the pleasurable post-orgasm haze taking over your brain.

“Only if you carry me.”

Joel crouches to press his hands underneath your ass, urging you up by the thighs, so you grip his shoulders and let him lift you, wrapping your legs around his thick middle and supporting yourself around his neck. Joel can hardly think straight, with the whole of your bare skin pressed against him, clinging on tightly like he’s the only thing that matters in the entire world right now. He can feel the heat of you through his clothing, wishing with a fuzzy head that there wasn’t anything between the two of you, that he could envelop you in his own heat, that they could mingle endlessly together. He could hardly wait to get you in his bedroom and make that exact desire of his come true.

When Joel sets you on the edge of his bed, he stands in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt slowly and intently, watching you to see your eyes lighting up as he works at the buttons. You stand up and grasp his hands gently, moving them to the side to take over, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing each new bit of skin that’s revealed on his chest. Joel finally shrugs the plaid shirt off and onto the floor, and you get to work on his jeans, pulling his belt off and through all of the loops in a slow, dragging movement. Joel chuckles a heady laugh at the way you’re so perfectly teasing him right now before you unzip his jeans and pull everything down, leaving him standing just as naked as you are.

“C-can I jus’ hold you like this?” Joel asks tentatively, despite his cock being at full attention once again from the way you’d undressed him. You can’t help but smile when Joel shows this more shy side of himself and you give him a nod, pulling away to crawl onto the bed and lay down. Neither of you have turned on any lights in the room, instead letting the moonlight spill in through the front window and illuminate enough that it casts a low, shimmering light through the room.

Joel slides in right next to you, wrapping his toned arms around you immediately, pulling you flush with his body and you wrap one leg over top of him, one hand placed flat on his chest, rubbing along the dusting of salt and pepper hair there. You both sigh contentedly at the feel of the other’s skin, so warm and soothing after spending all that time apart. The silence is comfortable, despite the both of you knowing there are mountains of things to discuss between the two of you.

Joel clears his throat, a hand rubbing up and down your forearm that rests along his torso. “Not one to ruin a perfect moment like this, but I gotta ask…” he starts, swallowing nervously. “Why’d you decide to come tonight? What… changed your mind?”

You blink a few times, biting the inside of your lip, trying to compile everything you’d been thinking recently for Joel.

“I just… did. I saw you realize that you’d made a mistake, and how much it hurt both of us. I was scared to trust you again, but you never left my side once you realized what you wanted. I’ve never stopped… wanting it, Joel. Wanting you.”

“I never did neither, darlin’. Swear it,” Joel says quietly, nuzzling his mouth onto the top of your head, breathing you in. “Thought I was savin’ you from me. Thought I couldn’t be worth it.”

“You’ve always been worth it, Joel. All the shit that happened, worrying about my parents, people judging us, job offers, any of it. I just want to be happy with you, I promise.”

“I see that now, honey, how fuckin’ selfish I actually was. ‘M so sorry,” he replies, a slight crack to his voice as he keeps it quiet.

“I know you are, you’ve shown me and said it so many times now. Thank you for not giving up,” you tell him sincerely, rubbing absentminded circles on his chest.

Joel huffs, shaking your head on his shoulder a bit. “Should be thankin’ you for that, darlin’, not the other way around. Y’should’ve given up on an old man like me.”

“Never, Joel,” you say. “Even if you are an old man.”

“Hey, now,” Joel scolds you lightly. “Only okay when I say it.”

You both break into a quick laughter, and you shift and tilt your head up, offering your lips to his, and he takes it, leaning his head slightly to meet your lips with his for a chaste kiss.

“Fine. You’re so youthful, don’t even look a day over twenty five, I swear,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Okay, now you’re jus’ bein’ mean,” Joel says with a frown.

“Thirty?”

“Mmm, better.” Joel chuckles, and you pull yourself tighter to him, your warm heat nearing dangerously close to his cock. Your hand traces down his chest, fingers gently grazing the base of his length now.

“Missed this so much. Missed you,” you say quietly, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling him stiffen, his cock hardening from semi-soft to throbbing in just a few moments of you toying with it.

“Y’have no idea…” Joel replies breathlessly, his hips jutting up into your hand slightly as it roams over his length.

“Wanna just feel you… please…” you whimper, feeling precum already gathering at his tip, swiping it onto your finger and into your mouth, sucking the slightly salty, tangy fluid completely clean before putting your hand back to his cock.

Joel groans out at the entire interaction, his eyes blazing with heat. “God, sweetheart, want to fuckin’ wreck your little pussy, but…” He winces in embarrassment. “My fuckin’ back… from what we did outside. Went a little too hard.” You try to stifle your smile, having just argued over him being an old man, but you reign it in.

“That’s okay, baby. I can ride you just as hard,” you say with quirked eyebrows. Joel chuckles but splays his palms in the air quickly, as if to say be my guest.

You shift your weight, straddling Joel and placing your already dripping pussy above his cock, notching him at your entrance. You lean down to kiss him and with the same motion, you press your hips down, letting his cock slide inside effortlessly. You’ve been perpetually wet just being in his presence, and from the way you’ve been warmed up over and over tonight, he’s completely sheathed in you before you even know it.

You groan at the fullness from this angle, and Joel does the same, his eyes fluttering slightly as he shifts underneath you. He winces slightly from his back hurting but relaxes his tensing body as you start to bounce your hips gently, testing the waters. Joel smiles up at you, his features melting into pleasure as you basically start jerking him off with your cunt, letting him lay back and enjoy the sensations.

Shit, you think suddenly. You should tell Joel about Dylan. You don’t know why it crosses your mind right in this perfect moment, when you’re both so incandescently happy to just be together, but the sudden guilt hits you right in the gut. You know you aren’t in the wrong, but you want to be honest with Joel, not have anything between the two of you if you’re going to start over like this.

You slow your movement, pressing your lips together, and Joel looks at you quizzically, noticing the change in your expression.

“This might be the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done to say this right now, but I have to tell you something,” you blurt out, and Joel’s eyebrows draw together, his eyes slightly widening in concern.

He rubs your lower back, sensing your hesitation. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“When… we…w-weren’t talking, I slept with someone. It was just once, it was not even… it wasn’t anything, but I did do it. When I was drunk. And it wasn’t even any g -” you ramble breathlessly, still moving yourself up and down on Joel’s cock. He tightly grasps your hips, pulling you down, hips flush with his, stopping your movements.

“Woah, woah, relax, relax, baby. Okay, it’s okay,” he says.

“It is?” you ask, wide eyed.

“Don’t exactly love it, y’know how I feel about you bein’ mine and only mine, but I can’t say I blame ya. Left you high and dry out there.”

“Right…” you say quietly, still incredulous that Joel isn’t completely freaking out right now from this news.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill whoever it is, but ‘sides that,” Joel chuckles genially, “Don’t feel bad, baby. Jus’ makes me wanna fuck you even fuckin’ harder, make you forget that even happened.” He lets a small growl slip from deep in his throat, clutching onto the plush skin of your hips and ass, his long fingers spreading along both areas and kneading.

You start to grind your hips a little again, lifting slightly up and back down, beginning a steady rhythm on him.

“Oh really? Think you could?” you ask low and teasingly. “Honestly, it wasn’t any good, if that helps.”

“No? Not any good, huh?” Joel grunts a little as he lifts his hips up into you, unable to help himself despite his back aching and screaming at him.

You shake your head, pursing your lips as you continue your slow pace on top of him. “Mm-mm. Didn’t even get me off…” You run a hand down Joel’s chest slowly. “Shame, really, that no other man could ever live up to you.”

“Fuck…” Joel curses under his breath. “Gonna give a man an ego, sayin’ things like that.” Joel pauses, just enjoying the way you’re gyrating on his cock for a few moments. His eyes snap open again and he looks at you with a furrowed brow. “Didn’t get you off at all?”

You shake your head slowly and deliberately as you ride him.

“Fuck, need to do good to you tonight, then, baby,” he says, his voice slightly strained from the emotions he’s feeling. It’s a mixture of desperation, sadness, and fucking anger at what happened. How anyone could get a chance to be with you, to taste and fuck that sweet pussy of yours and not even give you what you deserved, it made Joel feel the feral side of him clawing it’s way out. His hand reaches up, cupping the side of your face before sliding around to the back of your head and pushing your head down so that it’s close to his mouth, forehead practically resting on his shoulder. He holds your hair tightly in his grip, letting his lips brush against the skin of your ear.

“Whatever you need to do to me, I’m yours… I want you to fuckin’ come so hard you never come back down, that you can’t never think of another man again ‘sides me. Want your fuckin’ knees shakin’, cunt drippin’, fuckin’ soaked f’me, squeezin my cock so hard, so full you can’t even breathe…” Joel mutters out, sending your entire body shivering and convulsing with the combination of his words and the vibration of his deep rasp right next to your ear.

You spasm your hips down onto him, pussy clenching at his words and feeling his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you. “F-fuck…” you whimper, nearly reaching your high from his words alone. You pull your head back slightly with Joel’s permission, his tight grasp on your hair lightening up, and smirk down at him.

“Y’sure you can do that, old man? With your bad back and everything?” Your lips press together so tightly to repress your laughter that you feel like you’re going to pop. You begin to ride him faster as you speak, feeling all of you bouncing, your tits dancing appealingly right in his face. Joel lifts his head, takes one into his mouth and sucks harder than he ever has, and you gasp loudly, unable to pull away. He lets it go with a small pop and looks up at you, darkness flashing in his eyes.

“Gonna fuckin’ wish you never said that,” Joel states before he sits up, groaning quickly with the effort and then deciding its well worth it, grasps your back and flips you around, slamming you down into the bed with him. His entire weight is on you, straddling you, the movement from flipping pushing his cock so deep that you squeal out in both pain and pleasure. He ruts into you hard now, lifting both of your legs to his shoulders, putting you in a tight, cramped position where they’re trapped between your body and his now.

All you can feel is Joel, Joel, Joel - his cock pressing against your spongy part inside again, his sweat intermingling with yours, his ragged breaths as he pounds into you with no mercy. You cry out, tears stinging your eyes from how fucking deep he is, you think he’s hitting your cervix at this point and it’s a sensation you haven’t experienced before, but it’s tearing you up from the inside out how good it feels. You can’t do anything but whimper as Joel asserts himself over you, trying to make the words he whispered in your ear become a reality.

He leans even closer, the angle completely devastating you as a few tears slip free from where they’ve been brimming in your eyes. “Tell me how good I am to you, hm? Wanna hear you praise this fuckin’ cock,” Joel says, his voice so smooth and controlled for how hard he’s ravaging your body right now.

“So good, Joel, fuck… your c-cock… you’re so good to me.”

“Again,” he commands, turning his head to bite down onto one of your legs that are framing near his face. You whimper loudly, barely able to even think of the words to say, let alone speak them.

“N-never want another c-cock. Can only take y-yours, so good to me, so f-fuckin’ big and full, Joel.” Your face scrunches up slightly, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Joel snaps his hips into your over and over, your insides coiling with heat and everything good when he hits the perfect spots inside of you.

“That’s right,” he groans desperately, clearly as affected by your praise as you are his. Nearly effortlessly for his back hurting him, he pulls out of your cunt, leaving it squeezing at nothing. He quickly looks down at your fluttering, fucked out cunt and spits quickly in-between your legs before he turns your body belly down on the bed, your legs shaking as you bring them down and nearly melt into the mattress. You’re shaking, your knees and thighs completely quaking just as Joel had wanted, and you’re thankful for the break. Joel’s hands grasp either of your ass and lift it slightly off the bed, angling himself behind you and slamming right back into your cunt. You nearly scream, the stretch of him all over again nearly too much with how heightened everything feels.

“‘M I still so good for you, baby?” he asks. You can only nod, and breathe out a quiet, raspy “yes”, your face turned off the mattress to try to look back at him.

“Ready to come, angel? I can feel you, so fuckin’ tight, practically beggin’ for it, ain’t ya?” Joel says, his voice less controlled now, and you can tell he’s just as close as you are. He slides a hand between your body and the mattress, leaning himself closer, changing the angle of himself inside of you and it’s perfect, holy shit it’s perfect.

His finger finds your clit in a second, flicking and rubbing circles frantically as your body writhes and bounces into his thrusts. You moan over and over, his name, expletives, anything you can think of to finally reach your high. The tension low in your belly snaps, and you go off the edge, screaming Joel’s name along the way as your legs shake underneath him and your cunt tightens impossibly taut around him, fluttering and spasming. Joel curses, pushing in as deep as possible while he comes along with you, his vision going white as he grunts your name and claims you with his hot ropes of cum spilling inside of you. He relishes in the feeling, the way you take all of him in a moment like this, moaning louder as soon as you feel that he’s coming along with you.

You continue to tremble, trying to come down from the way Joel has just turned your world upside down. You should have known - when Joel says something, he means it, and the way you’d just went higher than the god damned heavens just now proves it.

You let out soft, whimpering sounds as you lay there, body completely slack and feeling unable to even lift your head until you regain some composure.

“Shit…” Joel murmurs, concerned, his body wrapping around yours in a second. “Y’okay, baby? You hurt?”

“N-no,” you croak out, trying to give him some semblance of a head shake. “Just… j-ust…”

“So fucked out f’me,” Joel teases, wiggling his eyebrows a bit as he feels the situation lighten. If you had the energy, you’d punch him on the arm, but you just groan in agreement. Joel laughs, nuzzling his nose onto your shoulder. “Just how I fuckin’ like it, means I did you like you deserve, sweetheart.”

“You can say that again… I mean, fuck, Joel.” You giggle a little bit, finally feeling your senses coming back to you as you try to roll over.

“Say the same to you, so perfect f’me tonight, baby. Promise I’ll take it slow next time. Give you all the sweet stuff,” Joel laughs at his own words and you roll your eyes.

“You’d better, I’m gonna barely be able to walk for days, swear to God,” you scoff.

“Jus’ means I get to take care of ya. My poor baby can’t even walk,” Joel clicks his tongue, “Cock jus’ too big f’ya?” he teases, and you let out a disapproving noise, trying to squirm away from him in irritation, but he holds you even tighter. “Jus’ admit it, s’okay honey. Not everyone can take it.” Joel says tauntingly, shrugging nonchalantly to add on to the teasing torture he’s lashing on you.

“You know I can take it, Miller. Fuckin’ better than anyone,” you snip back, trying to turn away from him still, but Joel manages to scoop your body into his, spooning you now, crossing his arms tightly over your chest.

“Damn fuckin’ right,” Joel admits, giving up the charade. He kisses the back of your head, trailing them down to your neck. “My perfect girl.”

“Yours,” you echo back, snuggling your body into his and feeling so at peace you could nearly cry. This is where you were meant to be, right here in Joel’s arms. Always.

taglist: @paleidiot@mumma-moonchild@soph55@chicville03@joelsversion@feliciab1990@fellinfromthetop@gossipgirl-03@sarap-77@blueseastorm@akah565 @pattwtf @scarlettthefierce

#some of the things i wrote here i will not be held accountable for i swear #i missed these two so much i needed them to have a lil bit of depraved sex #or a lot #anyways #fic: closer #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader

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