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archieimagines · 2 years

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touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch.

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”

And then he did what you loved.

He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.

A beskar kiss.

You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.

He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.

Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.

Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.

But he surprised you.

His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.

His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.

He wanted more.

You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.

He loved this.

You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.

He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.

His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.

He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.

Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”

Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.

Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.

Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.

You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.

But then… Had you made that up?

You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.

But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.

Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—

“Morning.”

— What you thought was slumber.

His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.

It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”

“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”

A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.

But yet…

Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.

Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.

It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.

You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.

Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.

Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”

He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.

His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.

Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.

“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.

Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.

“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”

“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”

“Black. Brown, black.”

You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?

The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--

His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.

A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.

You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.

You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.

Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.

Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.

Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.

Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.

“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through.

Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.

“We need to go!”

You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements.

The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.

You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again.

The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.

He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.

Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.

Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”

You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.

The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight.

It was his own fault.

Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.

You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

Silence.

“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”

There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.

“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”

“No.”

“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”

“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”

“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”

“I know you can.”

“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”

He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”

“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”

“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”

Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.

“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”

“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”

“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”

He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.

Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.

What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”

The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t, Din.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”

Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”

Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.

“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.

But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.

“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”

For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”

“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”

“That’s not how I-”

“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”

“You know I can’t show you my face.”

A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.

Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”

He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.

“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”

“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”

You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.

Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.

“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”

And there was darkness.

He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”

He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.

“Why do you never-”

You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.

Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.

“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”

He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.

“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”

“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.

The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”

“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”

You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”

A hum of humour. “This is the way.”

You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.

You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.

He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.

He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.

Clearly, this was his first one ever.

You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.

And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.

When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”

“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.

“We do this more often.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”

#mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #mando imagine #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #star wars imagine #star wars #pedro pascal #written by archie

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amoreva · 4 months

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GHOST IN THE WIND

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: after a rough turnout of the quest assigned to you, you began to see your ex-boyfriend as the poison slowly kills you.

warnings: angst, post luke betrayal, poisoning, mentions of effects of poison

a/n: so sorry, was taking a slight break on requests for this fic and the fic series that is in the works. I promise i will answer the requests at some point.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Medic!” The door to the medical cabin slammed open. The door knob made a hole in wooden walls at Annabeth’s strength. “Will…”

She rasped out, carrying your dead weight. Your breath coming in short bursts as if your lungs couldn’t hold any more air. Veins darkened to the color of night, crawling up your flesh like a parasite itching to take over the host.

“Oh my gods…” Will Solace, head counselor of Apollo Cabin, gasped and helped you onto one of the uncomfortable cots.

You were mumbling nonsense as black liquid dribbled out of your mouth. Will called out your name, desperately trying to grab your attention. Annabeth was standing over you, concerned.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!” The other Apollo kid on duty piped up, scrambling to find the ambrosia. It was scary how you looked.

It was like something from the Underworld took hold of your body. There was a puncture wound on your abdomen, which was the probable entrance for the poison.

“Hey, hey—stay conscious for me, okay?” Will spoke as your vision began to get cloudy. He can see you withering away and demanded for information.

“Will…” You managed to croak out. Your friend looked at you with worry, to see the brightest camper succumb to an unknown illness was…bone-chilling.

“Don’t sleep—just don’t black out.” Will muttered as you tasted your favorite fruits as ambrosia slid down your throat easily. “Please…I don’t know if you’ll wake up—”

You were out like a light. The ambrosia combating the poison overwhelmed your body. It was too much for your mind to even find a sliver of energy to try and stay conscious.

Your name was shouted, but sleep pulled you away from the medical cabin and throwing you into a different scene.

It was dark, like you were walking in an empty void. “Judgement.”, you think. You must’ve died and was waiting to get judged on whether you can enter Elysium or not.

What a shitty death. Dying from poison, it wasn’t hero worthy nor significant to a war. Just death to some ghastly poison that you were careless to figuring out what it was.

But…it’s not Judgement. It’s not because you see him. He’s walking around in clothes you last remember him in. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. The beads on his necklace moving each time he walked.

You know he isn’t dead. He Iris-messaged you yesterday to apologize for his betrayal. He can’t be dead. You wouldn’t have it.

“Luke!” You tried to call out, but no sound is made from your mouth. It terrified you. You tried to scream your lover’s (ex-lover’s) name again as you saw claws wrap around Luke from the ground and drag him in.

You tried to scream his name again, running to him, but your legs felt like sludge. He stared at you indifferently, accepting his reality—maybe…maybe just maybe you could save him if you run fast enough.

He slipped between your fingers. His chocolate curls disappearing into the floor of whatever abyss you’re in. You let out a silent, dry sob. If…if you had just noticed sooner…you could’ve saved him.

The same hands wrap around your limbs, tugging you down into the floor. Crying out for help, your heart tightened as if someone had a grip on it—squeezing ever last bit of life out. A sharp pull engulfed you into the void.

You gasped deeply. Body launching forward as you grabbed at your chest. You expected the familiar wood floors of the medical cabin or even Will’s warm smile, but…you were on Half-Blood Hill.

Soft, calloused hands were gently placed in your spine. It doesn’t take an Athena kid to figure out who it was.

“You alright?” His deep warm tone filled your head making yourself dizzy. For moment…you allowed yourself to believe he was here, truly.

“Yeah.” You spoke, surprised to hear your voice again. What happened before becoming less and less memorable as you turned to look at Luke.

“You can tell me, y’know? What’s bothering you.” Luke reassured and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

A familiar smile graces your lips, allowing yourself to relax, you lean up against his chest. “I know.” You mumbled as his toned arms wrap around you. “I just…miss you.”

“Miss me? I’m hardly ever away from you.” Luke playfully teased.

The breeze blew against the two of you causing Luke to squeeze you a little tighter. You always claimed he was a human body heater.

Everything dropped. Faded in an all too quick manner before you could even scream for Luke. He was ripped away from you—but you were supposed to be in his arms.

“Hey! She’s up!” Someone called out.

You mind felt fuzzy. Mumbles, moans and groans tumbled out of your lips. You felt like you were outta your own skin—you jerked. Uncomfortable with this sudden irritation.

Annabeth yelped. The sudden reaction from you almost hit her in the face. Another groan of discomfort and pain escaped. Accompanied by it was another struggle to get whatever was out of your body.

To you, it felt like you were shifting a little to get comfortable. In reality, your body was violently twitching and reacting you hit a few Apollo kids. The veins darker than before, your skin paler than usual. What did this poison do?

“Get her—restrain…I—” Will demanded, worried you’d end up hurting yourself.

You screamed as something grabbed you, someone grabbed you. Your brain could only register it as danger and hurt and agony and—

“Stop it—!” You begged. Your voice sounded demented, as if it was the poison talking.

Black liquid oozed out of your mouth as you begged for whatever to stop. Ambrosia was forced down your throat. Lights were too bright. The panic was defeating.

You fell.

But you felt no pain.

It was “Judgement” again. The endless void surrounding the distinct figure, you. “There you are…” Luke grinned once he spotted you. Your legs carrying you to the Hermes’ counselor before you could think of the action.

The void morphed into the familiar forest used to play Capture the Flag. Luke laced his hand with yours. “S’just up ahead.” He tugged you along.

Once more, you let yourself relax like this was the reality that fate has set and not one where Luke betrayed Camp, betrayed Percy, betrayed Annabeth, betrayed…you.

“Where are you taking me?” You laughed. A bright smile on your face as you maneuvered through the forest.

Slipping through the trees and branches, Luke brings you to the dock. The water washing up on the small beach.

A small cliche red and white checkered blanket laid out across the wooden dock, masking the potential splinters. There was chips and two soda cans on the blanket and six roses bunched up to make it look like a bouquet.

“Oh Luke…” Any confusion or anger evaporated when you saw the scene.

He smiled, smiled that charming grin and pulled you to sit down on the blanket. “Used up the rest of my money for the snacks and to bargain with a Demeter kid for these.”

He held up the six roses. The petals a delicate red, soft as a baby’s bum. They smelled nice. He went through all this effort for you?

“Luke…” You repeat in the same tone and took the roses from his hand. You noticed the thorns were cut off and a couple of band aids were around his fingers.

A show of his effort to rid the thorns so you didn’t prick your fingers.

“This…this is all wonderful.” You said, albeit a bit breathless. The roses, the snacks, the blanket—all the thought put into this date. It made you forget you were dreaming. You should’ve known…this was too good to be true.

But you stayed oblivious and in denial, tackling your (ex) boyfriend in a grateful hug. Luke laughed and wrapped your arm around your waist.

Yet, your subconscious pulled you from the happy moment. An uncomfortable feeling itching to tear your guts and organs to shreds. It was as if your own organs and nerves did not belong there—like they were in the wrong body. A warbled scream left your throat. Hands desperate to claw at your flesh.

You wanted it to stop—you would do anything to get this feeling to stop. Your heart breaking. To be ripped away from Luke again and again. In both subconscious and reality was cruel.

Your veins now tendrils crawling up your face, stopping just a little above your eyebrows.

“Hey, hey—breathe!” Someone comforted. You couldn’t recognize their face. It was like as if your sense of familiarity disappeared, triggering your fight or flight (mostly fight) response.

“Will—the antidote?!” A girl called out. Her voice somewhat familiar.

You struggled against binds. You wanted to run far, far away and stop this pain. The pain in your body, the pain in your mind…the agonizing ache in your heart.

“Luke—” The name left your lips desperate for any sort of answer to what was happening.

A small pinch.

Fire. White hot pain sprouting in your body. Burning your insides out. Another cry for help. Another scream of desperation. His name leaving your mouth. It hurt—it hurt all too much. Both the burning in your body and the reality of him being gone. Truly, gone.

“Luke! Please…please—help!”

Overwhelmed, you were sucked back into the dream. This time on a cabin bed. It was unclear on whose cabin you two were in. Luke had his arms around your waist, head on your stomach. The pain fleeting, but lingering.

The stars shined brights whilst the moonlight blessed you two. It was peaceful, almost…dare you say—normal. No gods, no goddesses, no prophecies, no quests, no betrayal, no hurt. Nothing.

You found yourself humming, running your fingers through his curls, and feeling your eyes close with fatigue.

“Falling asleep there, sweetheart?” You could feel his smile against your skin. He pressed a kiss to the flesh nearest to his lips.

“Mhm…” Your body flared up due to a burn—but there was no fire in the cabin. You stayed put. “I—I could spend all of eternity with you.”

“I could spend all of my time in Elysium with you.” Luke mumbled and turned his head to look up at you.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, so he was close to you. Lips connected like hands clasping for prayer. It was soft, yet it spoke a lot of words that he could not get out.

“I love you. Never forget that, okay?” Luke whispered against your lips.

His beaded necklace hovering over you. You placed your arms around his neck slowly and kissed him again. Never wanting the moment to stop.

Even then, you never had the courage to say those three simple words to Luke. Realizing this might be the last time you see him, dream or not. It made you sad he never heard it from you.

Maybe this will make up for it?

“I love you—I love you. I love you.” You repeated. Your voice shaky, holding back tears. This wasn’t real and you know it’s not real—but…you missed Luke. You missed him so much that it hurts. You didn’t believe he would betray Camp Half-Blood and you without Kronos’ manipulation.

“Hey…” Luke cupped your face and kissed your forehead. He grabbed your arms to sit up. It wasn’t good to cry laying down. “Don’t tear up. Everything will be okay, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you—?”

“I’m sorry, but you have the wake up.” Luke sighed and pressed his forehead with yours.

“Wait—“

“You have to wake up.” Luke grasped your hands. He held you as if this was the last time.

“What?”

“I love you very much and—and I’m so sorry for leaving you there—“

“Luke—wait!”

Your eyes shot up to be met with wooden walls of the medical cabin. Will and Annabeth shot up, ready to take necessary precautions. A dry sob left your mouth.

“Hey…” Will spoke softly.

You sat up, tears cascading down your face. You started to helplessly wipe them. You could feel his touch lingering. His hands grasping yours. Will pulled you into a soft hug when he deducted the poison was out of your system.

The mind is cruel, the poison was cruel. Fate was cruel, life was cruel.

You missed him.

You buried into Will as if it was him. Will and Annabeth thought you were crying because of the overwhelming feelings of what happened when you were poisoned.

You missed him.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ ��–

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan fluff

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thefreakandthehair · 4 days

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top of the hill

@steddiemicrofic | written for ‘top’ | wc: 510 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, first date, drive-in movies, hand-holding, pure fluff

As the sun sets beneath the horizon, shades of pink and blue giving way to orange and gold like a melting water color between tree branches on either side of his car, Steve fiddles with the knobs on the stereo. Static fills the space between himself and Eddie, nothing broken words and inaudible noises. Bright animations down on the large projector screen encourages them to buy a soft drink or a—

“— thick, juicy hot dog!”

Eddie snorts to himself, covering his mouth with a piece of hair.

“Great timing,” Steve mutters, grinning to himself and leaning back into his seat.

It’d been his idea, coming to the drive-in with Eddie, but that’s as far as he’d gotten in his plans. Truly, Eddie agreeing to come with him was further than he’d imagined he’d get but now he’s here, in the suffocating closeness of his BMW’s front seat at the top of the hill, and he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

The past year has been a slew of pizza nights at Eddie’s new trailer, smoking on the hood of his van, slowly convincing Eddie that baseball isn’t that terrible and being slowly convinced that maybe metal isn’t that terrible either.

How could it be? Eddie’s eyes light up every time he plays Dio, and nothing that makes him smile like that could possibly be bad.

Anyway, Steve didn’t ask Eddie to come see Grease with him at the drive-in as a strictly friendly activity, and he’s at a loss for how to bridge that gap.

“Got the goods,” Eddie says, producing two immaculately rolled joints with a grin and wiggle of his eyebrows and tearing Steve out of his own thoughts.

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think it’s that same Dio-Smile.

“Me too,” Steve retorts.

He twists around and grabs a plastic bag from the grocery store laden with what he’s learned are Eddie’s favorites: Blue Razz Poprocks and Nerds, a couple of Moon Pies sitting on top to avoid getting squished. Eddie digs into the bag and grabs the Nerds first, chomping away as the familiar sound of Frankie Valli’s voice signals the start of the movie.

Steve’s seen Grease more times than he cares to admit— maybe because of Kenickie, maybe because of Sandy, he’s not sure anymore— so he can follow along mindlessly. Thank God for that, because Eddie seems to get closer and closer as the movie continues, his shoulder brushing against Steve’s with every raise of his hand to pop more snacks into his mouth, and he can’t think about anything else.

He wants to close the distance, do something stupid like hold his hand and somehow, it feels scarier than Vecna or Demodogs ever did. But he’s Steve Harrington so sure, lacing his fingers through Eddie’s and squeezing intentionally for the first time is terrifying, but being afraid has never stopped him before.

Seconds pass and he holds his breath as the projector dims to the tune of Blue Moon, exhaling with a growing smile when Eddie squeezes back.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #steddiemicrofic #life's been a shitshow but i'm (kinda) back baybeeeeee

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verana115 · 11 months

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I've finished taking a trans pride flag up 202 mountains in the American Southeast!!! :)

Elk Hill - 202/202:

North Mountain - 201/202:

Snyder Shade - 200/202:

Juniata Shade - 199/202:

Butler Knob - 198/202:

Clarks Knob - 197/202:

Tuscarora - 196/202 (I love wind dynamics):

This be my only nature photo of this whole bunch, but it be pretty:

Anyhow, I hope y'all enjoyed this project, which is soon to be followed by the start of my next project ;)

#lol flag time #pride #pride flag #trans #trans pride #trans pride flag #trangender #transgender pride #queer #queer pride #lgbt pride #lgbtq pride #lgbtq #lgbtqia #hiking #peakbagging

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uxbridge · 3 months

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Hilly trail 2

#landscape #landscape photography #photography #nature #nature photography #naturecore #trees #woods #forest #winter #hills #knobs #siltstone trail #louisville #kentucky #jefferson memorial forest #southern gothic

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kanekisfavoritegf · 7 months

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Paranoia

Click here! For Pt. 1 : SHAMELESS

This actually took forever cause of my hiatus and severe writers block so I'm super sorry :((

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI you will be blocked!🩷

Warnings: Smut, BJ, face fucking Cucking, rough sex, kinda deranged Sukuna, breading, hate sex, voyeurism, exhibitionist, mentions of prior infidelity. Sukuna x reader x toji??? (more in the first part)

Sukuna had been living in a state of paranoia.

Ever since your son had been born, he’d been taking notice of how different they looked.

He wouldn’t say anything to you. Not until three months in when one day at work…

He was in Toji’s office going over some business plans for a big upcoming merger. He was about to leave when his eyes flicked to a framed photo on his desk. His heart dropped for a second before rising once again to its rightful place when he realised it was a baby photo of Megumi, circa 2003.

“Your son?” He nodded to the image.

Toji smirked a little before nodding, “Yeah, he is now four, about to be five in a few weeks. Time really goes by fast.”

“He looks exactly like you.”

“Yeah, he always has, even when he was a newborn.” Toji fought off the incoming smirk.

Sukuna’s brain clogs were slowly turning as he pierced everything together. Anger simmered in his blood.

“Cute runt.”

“How old’s your kid now anyway, Ryo? Like two months?”

“Three.”

“Cute.” Tojis said not really caring to look up from his screen.

Half an hour after Sukuna left his office, he felt his eye twitch every other minute. It was like there was a devil on both his shoulders. One telling him to get a paternity test and kick you to the curb, the other telling him to call you to his office and make you suck his dick until he wasn't angry at you anymore.

Option one would definitely solve his paranoia, but he would lose you. And Sukuna refuses to give up his favourite treasures, especially not to Toji of all people. He’d rather kill you than have him call you his wife.

Totally very sane.

So option two it is.

When Sukuna’s assistant called telling you to come, with no explanation. You honestly felt the air leave your lungs. You knew he knew, and he knew that you knew that he knew. But none of you acknowledged it. You don’t know why.

You had a plan the day Toji left your house the morning after you two defiled every single wall in yours and Sukuna’s shared home. You planned to leave your husband and start a new life. But then it hit you. Guilt like no other. A guilt that had left you crying for half the week and drinking for the rest.

Upon your husband's arrival, he pulled you into his embrace, covering your face with kisses and shoving an expensive bouquet your way and a diamond necklace in his briefcase. His form of apologising was gift-giving. Along with eating you out right there on the floor, until, you had made a mess of his face.

How could you leave him after one measly fight? How could you cheat on him after a small hiccup in the relationship? This was your marriage and you acted like a complete whore. You let temporary emotions and anxiety take control of your vagina and like a shark smelling blood you raced your way to the closest dick you could find.

And everything just went down hill after you found out you were pregnant. The anxiety of finding out who was the father killed you. You spent many tearful nights hoping your child’s face would grow to resemble your husband more. But that wasn't the case. So you did your best to be the perfect wife and stay in his good graces, for how could you lose the love of your life?

So there you stood, at the door of the meeting room knocking softly at its smooth wood. You fiddled with your hair and straightened out your dress as you waited for your husband's response.

“Come in.” The voice was deep, like your husband's but its specific rasp had you hesitating as you turned the door knob.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The scar on his mouth twisted with his smile. He looked overjoyed to be here. And you couldn’t be any more annoyed at him.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was laced with annoyance.

“Baby, that’s not how you greet people.”

“Don’t call me baby Toji.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated, eyes piercing yours.

“So?”

“So, you have my kid-”

“Could you keep it down!” You slammed the door shut behind you, hoping no one overheard. “Sukuna is the father, not you.”

“You have MY kid, Y/N, my kid, and you don’t talk to me. You barely even look at me.”

“Because I have a HUSBAND and a life I want.” You shook your head at him.

“That’s not what you said last year.”

“Is that why you called me here? To try and convince me to leave my husband?”

“He is here because I invited him.” You jumped from your position. Turning to face your husband with a shocked face.

“Ryomen.” You put on your best smile, trying to keep it together as you stare at him; paying no mind to the growing grim expression of your past lover, or for better words, past mistake.

“My love.” He smiled with a twinkle of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Why did you invite him here?” You watched as he locked the door behind him, closing all the curtains and stalking down the long table passed all the empty chairs. Until he reached the end. The CEO’s chair.

He sat himself down and looked at you, raising his eyebrow until you got the hint, and hurried your cute self onto his lap.

“Hello, my wife.” His head pressed into your neck roughly, taking in the scent of you. “God, you smell amazing.”

“Sukuna, Toji is here.” You sighed out dreamily as Sukuna busied himself with kissing your neck.

“You are truly a shameless slut.” You froze in your movements.

“What?” Your voice shook.

“Oh, I was talking to Toji, but I guess it can apply to you too.” Your heart had now dropped to the pits of your stomach. Was this it? Was this the end of your marriage?

“Sukuna wai-”

“Shut up.”

“Ryomen, please.” His hands grasped your hair tightly, moving you off of his lap and onto the floor. All the while, Toji watched with a smile on his face. This was it for him. The moment in which Sukuna would kick you to the curb and let him have you. At least, that’s what he thought.

“Suck my dick.” Sukuna didn’t even give you time to process what he demanded, because as soon as your mouth was open he plunged his length down your throat. Groaning at the feeling of your immediate gags. You begged him to kick Toji out with your eyes, pleading for privacy as he used you.

“You know, I watched the clips of you screwing my wife over and over.” Your husband's attention was fully on Toji now, as held on to your hair. Staring him down as Toji watched on, not giving a response to Sukuna’s obvious attempt to get to him.

“You made it seem like they were erased, but I only had to put in a little effort to find the security camera's videos on your hard drive.”

His hand guided the movements of your head so roughly, tears already streamed down your face.

“If I didn’t want you to find them, Sukuna, I wouldn’t have let you.” Toji finally gave a response back.

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He tutted at him. Smiling at the growing annoyance on Toji’s face.

“The one mistake you made wasn’t fucking my wife, or trying to take my child.” He scoffed at him. “It was thinking I’d ever let my wife go.” Sukuna had pulled his now fully erect cock out of your mouth and slapped it against your tear-stained cheeks. You used this time to breathe and rest as he assaulted your face with more slaps. But this reprieve didn't last long, as he was plunging back into your mouth as he continued talking to Toji.

“You what? Thought I didn’t know she was a whore the day I married her?” You couldn't help but moan at your husband's words, rubbing yourself down onto his shining shoe. “I mean just look at her, humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

And as you completely ignored the attention of your past love, Sukuna came to the resolution that he’d never leave you. Not ever. He would punish you for all your worth. But leave you? Never. You were like a drug to him, an incubus who had her fangs lodged deep into his soul. So, while yes, he was angry at you for sleeping with another man, he realised he just needed to fuck the much-needed sense back into you.

And that's when Sukuna decided to fuck you until the very idea of Toji had been completely erased. Again and again.

Sitting prettily on the table, Toji was forced to watch Sukuna take you over and over just like he did all those months ago.

You made no attempt to be quiet because you knew you would be met with Sukuna’s hand squeezing your cheeks, forcing them open as he plowed into you. Every moan and every whine was one pulled from your husband, as he took you, sitting on the table.

Toji’s eyes were kept to the ground until Sukuna noticed his aversion to the scene.

“Look at my wife while I fuck her, Toji. You know what you put me through this year? You should be beaten bloody and fired. You have it easy. Now, watch her face as I make her cum.”

Even with his eyes pressed on yours as they rolled back in pleasure, Sukuna didn't stop his verbal attacks at the man. Continuing to talk as he fucked through another orgasm.

“I’d fuck your wife to prove a point, but she’s dead already, isn’t she?”

“She’s always been a screamer but listen to her now. Any louder and someone might hear through the soundproof walls.”

“Do you miss fucking her?”

“God she's always so tight and wet.”

“Look at how lovely my wife squeezes around me.”

Wanting a change of position, Sukuna thought it best to throw you over Toji’s lap as he took you from behind.

“Don’t touch what isn't yours.” Your husband warned as Toji went to pat your head as you drooled over his lap and his very prominent hard-on.

“Ryo—fuck. Break. Plea-Oh fuck.” You tried pleading for a break.

“Nuh-uh, baby. We are gonna keep going until I say so.

Pressing your nails into Toji's thighs for stability only caused him to groan out in pleasure.

“Oh. You like watching me fuck my belongings?” Sukuna laughed at Toji’s glare. Knowing that if he tried to leave, it would be over for him, he'd lose his job, along with you.

Slowing his movements down a little, Sukuna reveled at the way you shuddered over his cock. He was getting close and could feel it.”

“Should we give our baby boy a sibling? Hm? A girl or a boy? I think I want another boy. What do you think, baby?”

You gave no response, only the moan of a cock drunk whore.

“Since my wife can’t answer. Toji, tell me. Should I give my son a sibling?”

After being met with silence again. Your husband took it upon himself, cumming in you, triggering your climax immediately after.

You fell to the ground, your weak legs giving in after The hard fucking they withstood. Cum seeped out of you and onto the floor. “What are you doing? Get up. How many times did it take for it to stick in the security footage?” He asked you, keeping eye contact with the other man as he spoke. “I want to make sure you leave full.”

Taglist: @mcnooberton @watyousayin @lazullywinter @llovergirlll @sanrioglocks @ramonathinks

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

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writingroom21 · 19 days

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The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Angst, hurt, slight mentions of toxic family, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 6.2K

A/N: I'm sorry in advance for any heart ache

Chapter 6: Living for a Sunny day

“Who was that?” Sofia asks. Rafe just stands there watching you walk off, looking around meeting the eyes of everyone watching. A hand lands on his chest, the voice swatting the haze away in his mind. “Rafe, who was that?” He looks down to look at Sofia, he notices how her eyes don’t have the same golden flecks yours do. He searches her face trying to find something that would chase the thoughts of you out of his mind. Coming up short Rafe takes her hand off his chest, moving out of her grasp. “I gotta go.”

“Are you serious right now? You’re just going to run off to some other chick?” Sofia’s words rub Rafe the wrong way. Couldn’t she see that she was the other chick not the other way around. “Yeah I am. She’s not the other chick you are.” Rafe starts to chase after you, the bodies of people making it hard to get through. When he gets to the parking lot he can’t find your car. Knowing that you are probably home he gets in his truck, racing out to the street. The car ride was filled with silence, the only noise coming from his thoughts that won’t stop.

How could you fuck this up? This is why you are worthless, can’t even stop yourself from being stupid. Worthless that’s all he is. Not enough for his fathers love, his sisters, now you, he will never be good enough. His fist slaps on the wheel, the coke in his system fueling the rage he already feels inside him. The lights of the streets are just blurs due to how fast he’s going, not caring that he could be pulled over. He needs to see you. At least explain to you why he did it. You have to understand right?

Tanny Hill comes into view, all the lights are out making him more nervous. Getting inside the house he doesn’t hear anything but your car is still in the driveway. The walk to the front door to the second floor where your room is takes forever. At the top of the stairs he can hear some music, so faint that it barely caught his attention. He knocks on the door then again when you don’t answer. “Please open the door. We need to talk.” Silence. The only sign of life on the other side coming from your music. Rafe jiggles the door knob, trying to force his way in. “Come on sunny open the fucking door.” Nothing.

Rafe’s fist starts pounding on the door, the other still trying to open it. “Open this fucking door right not. I swear to god I will knock it off its hinges.” His voice is shouting now, his side making contact with the door. “It didn’t even mean anything. Are you really going to just ignore me over something so fucking stupid.” The more you ignore him, the harder it is for him to keep his cool. He kicks the door only stopping once he hears you crying. Placing his forehead on the door he takes a deep breath. “Please, baby. Just…just open the door.”

On the other side you are curled in a ball, hands over your ears trying to block the noise out. Flashbacks to when your father would yell at you come rushing back. Every argument playing in your head only makes the tears worse. “Please.” It sounds so pathetic, the pleading in his voice. He’s like a little kid again, begging his dad to love him, to show him any ounce of compassion after his mother died. “Please don’t leave me Sunny.” He stands there for a few minutes, waiting to see if you will finally open the door for him. When he realizes that you won't, he breaks.

Tears well in his eyes as he backs up, going to his room to regulate himself. The door slams behind him, shaking the frame. Rafe’s pacing around, his hand digging into his head, slapping himself to get out of this. Nothing works. The tears are now falling, staining his cheeks before he has a chance to wipe them away. Walking further into the room he notices something on his bedside table, it was empty this morning just a picture frame on it. Walking close he sees it’s the necklace. He picks it up, the burning in his eyes and throat intensifying. He slams the necklace back down, grabbing the frame and throwing it against the far wall. “FUCK!” He goes around the room, grabbing whatever he can just to throw it. Thinking if he can’t let the anger out everything will be fine in the morning.

The room is a mess. Broken glass liters the floor, stabbing into the soles of his shoes but he doesn’t care. He lays in his bed, the same sheets for when you both slept there. They still smell like you. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it to his chest to get some comfort in you. Knowing that what he did would change the relationship for the worst. He falls asleep wishing that the night never happened, that he just waited for you instead of going to the bonfire by himself. No matter how much he wished for it, nothing will change. In the morning he will still be the failure he always was.

You wait until you can’t hear anything from the other end of the hall. Slowly getting up you start to pack a bag. Throwing whatever you can find into it and quietly leave your room. You sneak past his room down the stairs willing your footsteps to be quiet enough so he won’t hear. Making it out of the house you race to your car, starting it and leaving before he notices that you left. You can’t go back home, you still haven’t talked to your parents after you said you won’t be given them money. The texts you sent were left unanswered letting you know that you don’t have a place there anymore. If you’re honest you only think they kept talking to you because you would give them everything they asked.

You just drive not really knowing where you will go. You guess that sleeping in the car would be fine but you would rather not have cops knocking on your window and running off to tell Ward. The next thought is Sarah. She’s most likely at John B’s with the rest of the pogues. Before you even know it you are parked in front of his house, then out the car and knocking on the door. If anyone saw the tears on your face they didn’t mention it, welcoming you with open arms.

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The sun creeps in through the windows, beaming down on your face waking you up. The first thing you notice is the lumpy couch you were sleeping on. Then the dull headache forming behind your eyes, dehydrated from all of the crying. Finally you hear their voices, all of them talking in the kitchen as John B makes the gang something to eat. Your body just lays there, not wanting to get up and face the music. Last night memories flooding into your thoughts. Rafe’s hands all over Sofia, the way he agreed to leave with her. As if he wasn’t just in you a few hours before. Like he didn’t tell you how much he hated the thought of you with someone else. It’s his game isn’t it? He makes a girl feel special and once he’s done with her he’s onto the next. You weren’t any different from them. Why you thought he changed will just continue to be a mystery.

“Sleeping Beauty is up.” JJ’s voice carries into the living room. “Dude shut up.” Kie swats the backside of his head. “Damn my bad.” JJ replies while rubbing where she hit him. You sit up on the couch bringing your legs to your chest as the group makes their way over to you. “Hi.” your voice is weak, it doesn’t even sound like you. They all sit around you, Sarah handing you a glass of water and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Sorry, don't really have much around the place.” You just smile at the Routledge boy thanking him for the food.

“What happened?” Sarah asks. “No, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Everyone just looks at you, sharing glances. “Well, something had to have happened. You came here at 2 o’clock in the morning crying and asking me if you could stay the night something had to happen.” Sarah urges not wanting to press but she’s worried about you. She’s never seen you that upset, the closest time being after a fight with your parents. Even then you refused to talk about it. JJ swings an arm around the back of the couch, his hands rubbing your shoulder. “Come on princess, you can tell us what happened. We don’t bite… unless you are into that.” He winks at you. “Dude really.” Pope chimes in, nudging JJ’s leg with his foot. “What did Rafe do something again?” You scoff “What makes you think it was Rafe?” You argue the words not convincing you as they hit your ears. “Well, do I have to remind you about what happened at the country club? It’s like you two are seeing each other or something.” The room gets quiet, everyone expecting your answer but it never comes. “Oh my God please don’t tell me you slept with Rafe” Sarah asks.

You shrink into yourself trying to hide from their prying eyes. “I didn’t think you’d get this far you know I just thought it was like something fun then it just got better. He just seemed like he actually cared about me. It’s stupid I just thought that it was different, you know?” No one knows what to say. Rafe’s history is no secret, the whole island knows how much of a womanizer he is. They just never expected for you to fall into the same trap, especially after seeing how it never worked. “What did he do?” Kie asks. “I caught him making out with some girl at the bonfire last night.” The room gets silent again. They share looks trying to find something to say to make you feel better. “So you are telling me that after the scene he caused at the club he still fucked this up. Fucking dumbass.”

“Dude” Everyone yells. “Jayj really? That wasn’t necessary.” Kie says as she sandwiches herself between you and JJ. Putting distance between you and his dumb comments. “What? We are all thinking about it. Like come on, he finally gets a chance with her and he goes and hookup with another girl. It’s just so stupid.” He’s right it is stupid. A tear falls down your face and you wipe it. “Jayj is right, it’s stupid.” Sarah sits on the other side of you, pulling you into a hug. “It’s not stupid. Your feelings are never stupid.” Sarah rationalizes, wanting you to know it’s okay to let yourself feel something.

“He just seemed so different. Everything he was saying and doing made me really think he felt something for me.” You pause, taking a sip of water to drown the lump in your throat. “For fucks sake we were with each other for days. I told him things I haven’t told other people.” A sob breaks your sentence. Your emotions winning over causing you to break down in Sarah’s arms. “I know. He always seemed different around you. I’ve never seen him chase a girl the way he chased you.” Kie thinks she’s helping but it only hurts worse. If others saw a difference then what changed? Why would he act like he wanted more only to take that away. To break you in a way no one has managed.

“Want to know what I think?” Pope breaks the silence. “I don’t think you having feelings for him is stupid. You took his actions as him caring for you, there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s the stupid one. He’s going to have to live with the fact that he lost the one person who actually gave him a chance.” He stops for a second, finally looking at you. “He’s going to live with that forever. You are going to find someone better and never think about him again.” You smile are him, the tears blurring out his features. You can make out a shy smile, telling he’s nervous for voicing his thoughts. “Thank you Pope.” You laugh, wiping your tears.

Pope is definitely the smartest out of everyone in this room. But he just found one thing he was wrong about. It doesn’t matter what pain you are feeling at this moment. It can be ten years down the line and you will still think about this. Every memory of him will always find its way to creep back in. His smile will forever be imprinted in your memories. Remembering all the times you were the cause of it. No matter how much you hate Rafe, a piece of you will always love him, and will always miss him.

You pick at the food as you listen to them talk. Happy that they are finally letting it go. When you finish you take your plate to the sink, giving it a rinse before setting it down. “Hey want to go out to the marsh? We can go swimming and have a few beers.” John B shouts out to you. It doesn’t sound like a bad plan. It could be good to go out and actually have fun with some friends. “Sure why not?” The group all cheer, getting up to get ready. You borrowed a bikini from Sarah since you didn’t want to go back to the house. There’s slight bruising on your neck, the hickies Rafe left now starting to fade. You brush your fingers over them before throwing on some clothes, letting your hair down to cover them up.

All of you make your way out to the dock, hopping into the boat and sailing off. The weather was beautiful today. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect, hot but not to the point of suffocating you. “How many beers do you think I can down before dropping off the side of the boat?” JJ laughs, pouring beer into his mouth. Most of it didn’t make it in but it's the thought that counts. “Dude come on. You're going to waste all the beers before we can even drink them.” John B shouts. The waters ripples as the boat keeps pushing further into the marsh. It’s been a while since you’ve been out here.

The last time had to be with some friends in high school, yet again even that was very few. It was hard to get time alone with friends when you were working all the time. Everyday was school, work, homework, and sleep. On the rare occasions that you did have a day off it was usually spent helping out your parents. Cleaning up around the house while they were out doing god knows what. Or worse having to help your dad down from whatever high he was on as your mom ignores it. Thinking if she doesn’t pay attention then it isn’t a problem.

Looking around at the group in front of you is refreshing. There’s not a single person here who wants something from you or expects you to be perfect. They just want you to be you. “Whatcha thinking about.” Sarah grabs your attention as she sits next to you, handing you a beer. “Nothing really. Just glad to have all of you.” She smiles at you, leaning back a little to let the sun warm her face. “He’s an idiot you know.” You both know who she’s talking about, yet neither one of you dare to say his name. “It’s okay Sarah.” It’s all you can really say, nothing else comes to mind. “No, I mean it. He spent the past year trying to get with you and now look at this. You always seemed to make him better. It’s a shame he let that go.” You just stare at her, words failing to form on your tongue. “Plus having you as a sister-in-law would have been pretty cool.”

You both giggle, the tension from your body leaving. It would have been cool being a part of her family. Maybe not with Ward he likes you but he would probably want better for the older Cameron. The rest of the family had no issues welcoming you in. It would have been nice to be a part of a family who actually cares about you, you still are but it’s different. The boat comes to a stop, JJ throws the anchor overboard to keep the boat in place. “Alright everyone, gather around this is your fun guide speaking. Today we have a very special activity for a very special guest. Today we will be getting smashed and partying till we drop.” JJ shouts, throwing off his clothes before jumping in the water.

“Hey smartass! Sorry to break it to you but we definitely don’t have enough beer to get smashed and we aren’t throwing a party.” John B shouts back at JJ. “Come one man. Can’t you just let me live my life. Trying to set a mood here.” They all laugh at the blonde boy ignoring his complaints. “Gross set the mood with someone else Jayj.” Sarah jokes sticking her tongue out at him. The rest of the afternoon was spent like that.

All of you joke around as you swim and drink, relaxing for the day with each other. By the time the sun is starting to set you realize you haven’t thought about Rafe once. Well now you are but it’s good that you can live your life without having a thought of him for a while. Everyone is back on the boat now, going back due to the lack of food that was brought. By lack of food you mean the no food that was brought. The boat ride to Kie’s parents restaurant wasn’t long. All of you quite, too hungry to even speak to one another.

John B parks the boat and you all hop out, walking up the dock to get through the back of the restaurant. “Hey mom.” Kie calls out. “Hey sweetie.” Anna answers from behind the counter. “Let me guess free food?” She eyes the rest of you behind Kie. “I mean it's going to be thrown out at the end of the night. This way we aren't wasting more food than necessary.” Anna just looks at her for a second. She sighs making her way towards the kitchen. “Mike, fire up some food for Kie and her friends please.” SHe turns back to all of you. “Go on and sit. I’ll bring it out once it’s ready.” You all cheer, finding empty seats and sitting in them.

You are all chatting when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your shoulders tense for a moment, scared that it’s Rafe. But once you turn around you see that it’s Topper. “Hey.” He says. “Uh hey Topper what's up?” You ask, confused on why he’s talking to you. Your interactions with him consist of when him and Sarah were dating and the few times you ran into him when he’s with Rafe. Besides that the two of you don’t talk. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second. Privately.” He looks at the group and then at you.

“Why do you need to talk to her?” Kie asks, squinting her eyes at him. “It’s okay Kie.” You reassure her then look back at the boy. He looks so out of place standing there all awkwardly. “Yeah we can go out the back.” You say while getting up. Topper follows you as you make your way to the outdoor seating area. “How are you doing? You know after last night.” He asks. You just roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing great. Realized I was making a fool of myself but doing good.” He winces at your words. He watched as you left crying last night, then watched as Rafe came running by a few minutes later.

It wasn’t till later on in the night he really found out what happened. Him and Kelce sharing a look once they realized that their earlier conversation actually had an impact on Rafe. Topper actually felt bad for you. He may not have known you well but he did know how sweet you were. When him and Sarah were dating she would always rave about you. Rafe did too but it was always underlined with some infatuation with you. But the way he spoke about you at the bonfire was different then before, he was defensive over you as if he really cared about you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s where he ran off to.” You don’t want to hear the excuses, tired of being lied to. “It’s okay you don’t have to defend him.” Topper cuts you off before you can say anything else. “I’m not trying to defend him, I swear. I just thought he went off to do lines of coke or something. He was literally telling us about you before he went off. I really didn’t know.” It seems like he’s telling the truth, he doesn’t have a reason to lie. “It doesn’t matter. He did what he did and nothing will change it.” Your arms go to hug yourself, needing some comfort.

“He was looking for you earlier. He’s been running around the whole island trying to find you.” Toppers words short circuit your brain. He was looking for you? “Why?” your eyes are trained to the ground not wishing that the ground will swallow you up. “He wants to talk I guess. Said that you don’t have the full story or something like that.” You scoff. “Full story? I caught him making out with a girl just hours after we were together. Just after he told me he doesn’t like seeing me with other guys. He just wanted me to be fully his while he could go do whatever he wanted. I don’t need to hear his excuses and you can tell him that.”

As you walk away Topper calls out to you one last time. “At least let him know you’re alive. He’s been freaking out because all his calls go straight to voicemail and you aren’t answering his texts. He fucked up, I get that but he’s genuinely scared that you’re hurt. I’ve never seen him like this.” You pause and look at him. “I didn’t have my charger with me last night. My phone is probably dead right now.” With that you go back into the restaurant finding that the food has already been brought out.

You sit down at the table, everyone watching as you start to eat your burger. “What did he want?” Pope asks, sipping his water. “Take a wild guess.” You snap back, inhaling sharply once you hear your tone. “Sorry I didn’t mean to be rude.” Pope reaches a hand over the table, grabbing yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “It’s okay. We won’t talk about it again.” Their conversation drowns out, your thoughts too loud to hear what is going on in the outside world. You didn’t even realize you had finished your food or that everyone was waiting on you.

“Why don’t we head back? It’s getting late.” Sarah suggests, her eyes watching you as you gather your things without a word.Throughout the whole process of getting back you are quiet, Topper's words still ringing in your head. He doesn’t truly care that you were gone, he only cared that he couldn’t lie his way out of this mess. Rafe knows that this is over, that last night was the breaking point of the relationship. That’s why he’s scared, he’s scared because nothing will dig him out of the hole he made for himself.

“You can stay the night again if you want. I really don’t mind, I can even kick JJ out of the other room so you can have a bed.” You look at John B as you walk towards the house. “It’s okay really. Ward, Rose, and Wheezie are getting back tomorrow anyway. It would be weird if I wasn’t home when they got there.” There would be questions if you weren’t there, Wheezie would hound you until you told her. As much as it hurts, you could never bring her or the rest of them into this mess. Not only for the safety of your job but more importantly for Rafe. If they found out what he did they would just chastise him further. He may have done bad things but deep down he’s not a bad person.

“If that’s what you want then okay. But call us if you need anything.” He pulls you into a hug, letting go and walking into the house. You go inside and grab your bag, saying a quick goodbye to everyone and heading to your car. Once inside you just sit there, willing yourself to start the engine and drive back to Tanny. After what seems like forever you gain the courage to finally start the car, if only it had the same plan. You twist the key, the car starts to make a weird noise. It sounds like it's starting, the rumbling of the engine goes, then it stops to make a clunking noise. “You have got to be kidding me.” You mumble under your breath, resting your forehead on the wheel. You try your key again and the same thing happens, only this time louder and worse.

A knock on your window startles you, jumping back and grabbing your chest and you see that it's JJ. You open the door and he stands there leaning on it and the roof of the car. “Having car trouble princess?” Funny you think. “No shit sherlock.” You mumble. You guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been saving for a new car. The money can now go into fixing this hunk of junk. “Come on, I can give you a ride. I heard you tell John B you should be home for tomorrow.” He grabs you to drag you out the car, getting your bag and slamming the car door. “Really?” “My bad the door just slipped.” He raises his hands up in surrender.

JJ walks over to his bike, handing you his helmet and getting on. You take it from him, placing it on and clumsy hopping on the back. “Gotta hold on to me tight unless you want to fall off.” Your arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him really tight, probably more than needed. “Jesus gonna kill me with that grip. Relax a little would ya.” You do as he says. Once he is satisfied enough he starts the bike and is racing off.

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Rafe has been freaking out all day. He woke up this morning and ignored the mess in his room, going straight to your door. He knocked, waiting a second before knocking again. “Sunny it’s me. Can we please talk?” He tries to open the door, happy to find that it wasn;t locked like last night. Relief washed over him as he opened it up, glad you finally came to your senses. That all vanishes when he sees that the room is empty. Your bed was slightly messy but the covers were still fully on so you hadn’t slept there. There were a few articles of clothing that were tossed around. Everything was in place, the only thing missing was you.

At first he thought you were just down stairs, already starting your day but when he got down there he couldn’t find you. Looking out the front door he sees your car is also gone. That’s when the panic startles to fully set in. You were gone, just picked up your things and left. There’s an ache that starts to form in his chest, his breathing getting shorter as his shaky hands get his phone to dial your number. The first ring goes through, the second cut short by your voicemail. “Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone right now. Text me if you need me, bye!” Your voice plays through his phone speakers. “Fuck!”

He starts to spam you, every call going straight to voicemail, his texts going unanswered. He’s been driving around the whole island looking for you and nothing. Every bad thought starts to race in his head. What if you got hurt? There’s creeps out there, if you left in the middle of the night they could have gotten to you. Or worse, you got in some accident and no one knows where you are. You could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Every new theory sends him down a deeper spiral. All his thoughts pointing to you being dead and truly leaving him. He can handle you hating him because he would know you’re safe. But he can’t handle you being gone, he can’t go through this again.

A water drop hits Rafe’s check, then another, a sob making its way through. He’s pacing around the house, tears freely falling. His fear of losing you brings back the memories of his mom. Watching day after day as she got worse, the doctors not doing anything to save her. He’s eight all over again begging his mom to not leave him, for her to get better, singing her the lullaby she sang to him. She was the first person to ever love him, to show him that he was worth something. Once she died she became the last one. Ward blamed him for everything, the fact that he had his mothers features making Ward’s hatred for him worse.Wheezie and Sarah never treated him badly but he knew they were afraid of him.

When Rose came into the picture things took a turn for the worse. He hated that his dad could move on so quickly, as if his mother meant nothing to him at all. Rose tried to be nice but shortly stopped after realizing that Rafe would never like her. Everyone on the island either hated him or was afraid of him, no one took a chance on him. That was until you. You came into his life with that beautiful smile and kind words. You turned the world around every time you talked to him. Never once showing fear or disgust like everyone else. It was like he wasn’t Rafe Cameron the island's basket case, he could be who he wanted with you. But he’s fucked it all up.

His pity party was cut short when the sounds of a motorcycle made its way into the house. He rushes to the front door swinging it open to be greeted by the sight of you on the back of JJ Maybanks motorcycle. His blood runs hot as he watches you get off handing him the helmet and hugging him. Rafe can’t hear what’s being said but he doesn’t like how close the two of you are right now. Hypocritical but he doesn’t care. He watches as you turn around the smile dropping from your face when you see him. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, bile threatening to leave him.

As you get closer you just stare at the floor walking past him into the house without a word. “Sunny.” Rafe’s voice shakes as he calls for you. “Don’t call me that!” You shout at him continuing to walk to the stairs. “Please can we just talk.” He pleads as he follows you. “There’s nothing to talk about Rafe. What’s done is done.”You look at him over your shoulder, he looks so fragile. “Please baby. I need you to talk to me. FUCK! Yell for all I care, please.” He sobs, hands grabbing your arm as you try to walk up the steps. “I can’t keep going on like this. I-' You turn around to face him. “You what? Huh? You thought ‘hey I had enough of her time to fuck some other slut’ Or was it ‘I have her wrapped around my finger. She’s so dumb that she’ll let me fuck other girls.’” You didn’t realize how close you got.

You're practically staring up at him. “No, I swear” His eyes red as tears streak down his checks. “Fuck! Why can’t you just listen to me! I’m trying…” “You’re trying? Are you fucking kidding me? So let me get this straight, you fuck me practically every day as id I’m this sex toy for you. Then you go out and make out with these other girls as if you weren’t just cumming in me. If thats you trying, you fucking me and others is you trying?” Tears well up in your eyes and your voice cracks at the end. Rafe starts pacing around with his arms wrapping around his head. He’s mumbling but nothing is audible. “If that’s you trying then it’s a good thing it’s over. I deserve better than that.” This stops Rafe in his tracks. He starts walking to you but stops before he can reach. “Please don’t leave me.” It’s barely a whisper but you still heard it.

Your eyes widen and mouth drops open but nothing comes out. You stare at him as his hands cover his eyes. Wiping away any tears like if you saw them you would see how weak he was. How weak you made him. “I was scared okay. I’m scared you will leave me like everyone. I- I can’t stand not being around you. Don’t start.” Your mouth shuts, words dying on your tongue. “You make everything better. I have these thoughts sometimes and” a sob cuts his words “they stopped when you were around. All the ‘I’m to good enough’, ‘you’re a failure’, all that shit just fucking vanished. You’re like sunshine, everything just seems brighter around you.”

He takes a deep breath. “That day at the country club when I saw you flirting with Maybank I saw red. I just thought you were going to see that you don’t need me that you were better off with someone else. Everyone has left me but you leaving would break me. I was scared and I did what I always do I fucked up. I pushed you away so you can’t hurt me. I didn’t think that you would care, I swear.” He grab your arm pulling you towards him. Rafe’s arms wrapping around your waist as he hurries his head in in junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Your right hand raises to rub his head, the left rest on his bicep.

“You’re right you didn’t think. You really hurt me.” You starts to pull away from him, Rafes eyes dropping to watch his empty hands. “I thought I meant more to you. I told you we needed to communicate and you didn’t. I just” “I’m trying to. This is me trying to tell you.” The blue eyes that you loved looked so broken and empty. A matching set to yours. “It’s a little too late. I don’t know how to trust you right now. Rafe I told you things that I’ve always kept a secret. I thought it was obvious that I always cared about you. Yet all I’m given in return is deceit, I caught you making out with another girl. Did you even mean the things you said? I just need sometime.”

The sandals you wore echo along the floor as you back up. His left hand catches you before you could get too far. “This can’t be it, please Sunny. I fucked up I know. I let Kelce get into my head and I spiraled, I know that. But please give me a second chance…please. Today I thought you were hurt or dead. You scared that shit out of me today and I couldn’t stand the thought of never being able to see you again. Please we can work this out.” You met his eyes, tears welling up. “I can’t do this right now Rafe. This really hurts me, don’t make it harder.”

“Nothing I say will change your mind will it?” Rafe lets you go and walks away leaving you behind. “Do you know how scared I was last night? You scream, smashing my door, and throwing stuff around is scary Rafe. All I could think about was my dad, I didn’t like when he got like that. I won’t take it from you either.” Your words stop him in his tracks but you don’t stick around to watch. Tears hit the floor, a tiny sob leaving your lips as you make your way up the stairs. Making it in your room, you curl up into bed crying until you finally fall asleep. Wishing that the past two days never happened and this was just some bad nightmare.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe obx #drew starkey smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x nannyreader

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hellishjoel · 10 months

Text

blue collar man

4.1k / joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend Joel is up to his ears busy with his contracting business. Tired and sore, he comes home to learn you’ve made the rest of the night all about him.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: Fluff, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, fluffy fluff fluff because blue collar man Joel Miller deserves it! He’s running a biz-ness!

A/N: based on this lovely request! I hope I could bring your request to life, I breezed through it so fast because I love him, he’s baby.

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him. “Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

Joel had found a lot of success with Miller Contracting over the summer months. Business was booming and his early mornings until late nights were dedicated to working on multiple projects to get things done on time for his clients. Joel worked on referrals mostly, so when he finished a client’s remodeled hill country home in late winter, the client had raved over Joel’s professionalism and hard work to their friends and now he had a list of upcoming projects.

Truthfully, you didn’t know much about contractors until you started dating Joel. You quickly began to understand the vastness of his duties. One day he could be working on home renovation projects where he was doing demolition like removing the walls or floors, electrical and plumbing work, flooring installation, even down to the last coat of paint.

Other opportunities were commercial like on a small office building downtown where he did site preparation, set the foundation, worked on the beams and columns, all the way up to finishing the roof. Whatever he couldn’t do himself that was a bit more specialized, he hired subcontractors to work on like heating, ventilation, and air conditioning.

What he hated the most was landscaping projects. He’d have to do the design layout of a large backyard garden and plant trees and flowers or work on seeding grass if it was a particularly hot Texas summer. Then he would add irrigation systems like sprinklers, pathways for people to walk on, pergolas for outdoor hosting, finishing it off with pretty and unique outdoor light fixtures. God forbid the client wanted a pond.

“Do you know how annoying koi fish are? They just… stare at ya while you’re tryin’ to work.”

You had grown to love the handy man that Joel was. Before you were moved in to his place, your shitty little apartment needed so much love that your asshole landlord never took the time to come and fix. But Joel would. That was his form of romance. He didn’t bring you flowers or chocolates on the first dates. Joel was replacing your leaky shower head and tightening your jiggly door knobs. He also managed to match the paint color on your walls so he could cover up the scrapes he made after he railed you into your mattress so hard that the frame made a few chips.

You were so happy to see his business getting the high recognition it deserved, however, Joel was taking quite the beating from it. You could tell by the way he slinked back into the house at the end of the night, his frame hunched over and walking with a slight limp.

He was sore, muscles aching and knees screaming at him. His joints were swollen by the end of the day and his sweaty, sticky skin ached for a refreshing shower.

The hardest part was always trying to shut off his mind when he got home. He was already thinking about the next day. What didn’t get done on time, what shipments of supplies were expected, how the delays would set the project back. He needed a break.

“Can’t take time off right now, baby. I’ve got deadlines to meet.”

There was this one specific project that was giving him hell. He called it the Astor because it was on Astor street. Every night this week he had come home beyond late because of the problems with the Astor. First it was that the project was exceeding the client’s budget, so they were giving him grief about that. Then it was labor shortage stuff, not being able to get people out there which then in turn caused timeline delays. With the client out of the country most of the time, Joel was receiving little to no communication from the owner. He was fighting permit and regulatory issues with the city, every day it was something new that caused a headache behind his eyes.

His dedication was admirable, but you knew that him being so physically and mentally clouded wasn’t good for him or for Miller Contracting.

You didn’t know shit about contracting, but you did know Joel.

You had texted him earlier in the day to drop whatever he was working on no later than 5 o’clock in the evening. You never did that, never told him to leave work early. But the last thing he wanted was for him to come home and have you upset with him. That was worse than any project issue.

Tonight would be about Joel. Anything you could do to make the stress melt away, you would try.

Joel pushed open the front door once home, a heavy sigh leaving him as he closed the door back in place and set his lunch box and keys down on the entry table.

“Joel?” Your voice echoed from the kitchen.

“Hi, baby.” His voice was low from the lack of energy.

Joel slowly moved down on one knee, a heavy breath exiting through clench teeth as his kneecaps throbbed while he untied one boot, then the other. They were covered in dust even down to the creases, steel toe covers making his feet sore.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked as you grabbed a dish towel to wipe your hands with before tossing it on the counter, greeting him halfway as he made his way through the living room.

You were up on your tippy toes for a kiss, not wanting him to have to bend over and exert himself. He hated when you treated him like an old man, but with this job, you always teased him that it was coming sooner rather than later.

He kept his hands to himself, knowing they were a bit greasy and sweaty. His overgrown beard hairs tickled your face as you peppered him with a few extra kisses, one of his eyebrows playfully raising.

“Was fine. Did you see what I texted you?” He asked as he looked down at you, watching as your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, helping lift it off his head.

“Mhm. The HVAC guys didn’t show up until noon even though you scheduled them for nine in the morning. Did you see I texted you back? Five hours ago.” Your teasing tone made him crack a smile.

Joel was bad at texting. Typical guy thing, typical older guy thing. He said he wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for work and if Sarah didn’t insist on how texting was the new way of communication. Even though you texted him ten minutes after his initial one, his phone was already back in his pocket and he had long forgotten about your conversation as he returned to his work day.

His response came out in a chortle, a heavy breath through his nose since he was too tired to chuckle.

“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to complain, I guess.” He said as he watched you fiddle with his Miller Contracting shirt that had a worn in hole by the neckline. He went to reach for it, wanting to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, but you were quick to hold it to your chest.

“I’ve got it.” You said as you went to give him a soft kiss to the open plane of his chest, smiling at the salt and pepper chest hair he was sporting. It looked so good on him. You walked off to the bedroom and did it yourself, grabbing him a fresh shirt for the rest of the evening, a pair of boxers, and his worn dark plaid pajama pants he liked.

Joel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. A heavenly smell was drawing him into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him. You had green beans in a frying pan and a gravy softly bubbling in a sauce pan. Then in a skillet was the most perfect looking chicken fried steak, the coating coming to the perfect crisp. He pulled the oven handle open just an inch to see golden biscuits rising.

“I put clean clothes on the counter in the bathroom, go shower, handsome.” You said before returning to the kitchen, frowning as he found his dinner before you had a chance to plate it.

“Joel.” You playfully scolded, pinching at his hip. “You’re ruining your own surprise.” You teased as you shooed him out of the kitchen, hearing an audible grumble in his stomach. It made you sport a proud grin. It was his favorite meal, said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking growing up with Tommy.

“I’m making mashed potatoes, too.” You said as you drained the water the potatoes were soaking in, putting them in a new bowl and getting out some milk and butter.

“You’re makin’ me hungry.” He hummed with a small, tired smile as his hands came up loosely on your hips.

His hands on you instantly made you grin, gently shaking your head at him as his head came to rest by your own.

“You’re distractin’ me.” His low voice carrying the weight of his day.

“No, you’re distracting me.” You made clear as your elbow playfully dug into the core of his stomach.

“Go shower, please. You smell like drywall dust… and paint.”

He rolled his eyes with his smile still lingering.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” He said as his lips dropped down to place a sweet kiss of sincerity at the base of your neck, a shiver rolling up you as you let out a huff and returned your focus to your five-star meal.

You heard the water hit against the shower wall and his small radio crackled to life, finalizing the last touches to Joel’s favorite dinner.

Joel came back to the living room in the clothes you had set out for him, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. God, he looked so good.

“Here.” You handed him his plate, seeing his lips part in excitement. His stomach let out an audible rumble. He probably didn’t have a spare minute to eat his lunch today, poor thing.

The two of you settled on the couch, Joel expecting you to turn on one of your shows since a new episode came out today.

“Do you uhm.. Maybe wanna watch one of those movies where they’re flying the jet planes? You said you wanted to show me it a while ago.” You offered, glancing over to see him already inhaling his food with the fork scraping across the plate to not let a single bit of gravy escape him. But your offer made him pause.

“You wanna watch Top Gun? You hate Tom Cruise.”

“Well, yeah, he seems kind of like a douchebag, but it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed on you as he thought about your offer but ultimately shook his head, shrugged, and kept eating.

“‘t’s fine, you can put somethin’ on.” He said as he stabbed a green bean, smeared some mashed potatoes on it before putting it past his lips.

You took a deep breath and issued him the remote control.

“You pick something tonight, honey. It’s your night.”

That caught Joel’s attention. His head whipped a little to fast towards you, his thick eyebrows furling at the concept.

“‘t’s not my night. It’s a Thursday.”

The look you gave him set him straight.

“Okay, okay.. It’s my night.” He declared in playful defense, taking in a deep breath through his nose and opted for some old Western show he liked. You didn’t care much for it, but Joel did.

Once you two finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table and discarded, your head was on his shoudler and your hand ran slow, soothing circles over his chest. You could feel him breathing deeply, relaxing with you.

You asked him questions about the main characters, showing genuine interest. Even going as far as to add a dramatic gasp when a shot was fired from a cowboy’s revolver which made him let out a hearty laugh.

“You’re so full of it.”

He was talking with a huge grin, you could hear it in how he spoke, and it warmed your heart.

Towards the end of your night, your hands were in yellow dish gloves as you washed your plates from dinner, sliding the clean ones between the dividers of your drying rack.

Joel slipped his strong arms low around your waist, his burly shoulders pressing into your own as you nearly toppled over with his presence

“Thanks for dinner tonight. Hit the spot.” He said as he kissed your cheek then on a spot where your jawline met your neck, right by your ear. His beard hairs tickled. You could feel that they were freshly trimmed now, he probably felt a lot better.

“Night’s not over yet.” You hummed, a playful smile on your lips that he was quick to take notice of.

“Oh?” His voice dropped an octave, rolling your eyes a bit as you dug your elbow into his stomach for the second time tonight to put some space between you.

“Okay, cowboy. Relax. How about you go to the bedroom and take your shirt off. I’ll be there in a sec.” Your choice of words were still leading him in a different direction, you almost felt bad. But it was funny watching him get worked up.

After finishing the dishes and blowing out the eucalyptus scented candles, you peaked into your bedroom. Joel was still cautiously removing his shirt, moving slow as to not disturb his aching muscles. You hated seeing him come home every night like this, as if his body had just been in a fight and taken a brutal beating.

Joel undid the clasp of his watch, the band and watch face dirty and making digging a bruise into his wrist, but it told the time. He felt better after his shower, having made it a steamy one to relax the stinging in his upper neck and shoulders as well as his lower back.

His belly was good and full, happy to have something homemade rather than a quick pizza in the oven or just a cold bottle of beer before bed.

You were taking care of him tonight. Not that you didn’t every other night. He was actually giving you the time to take proper care of him. It felt off at first, taking on all the attention he usually reserved for you after long days. But maybe it’s what he needed.

His head turned as he felt a warm pair of arms circle just above his plaid pajama pants, your soft fingers undoing the knot he had tied in the front of them.

“I would’a taken my pants off for ya if you’d just ask.” His tone taunting, stepping out of the soft material before spinning in your arms and attempting to scoop you into him.

“Lay back, goofball.” You said with that gleaming smile of yours. Made his stomach twist. Whatever you had planned, you obviously wanted the lead on.

He did as instructed, happily falling into the comfort of the mattress with ease.

“Close your eyes, please.” Your voice was sweet like honey. He’d follow it into the shadows, into hell, more likely into heaven since it’s where Joel thought you belonged.

He could already fall asleep, though it was no later than eight. He felt the bed dip first at his legs, your body shifting up to sit by his hip. His hand naturally felt out for you, his warm palm holding you at the curve of your lower back.

When Joel was given the okay to open his eyes again, he was surprised to see a few candles lit around the room, the golden glow adding a bit of ambiance.

He watched as you squirted a few pumps of a lotion in your hands, circling it up in your palms to make it a little warm before you started to lather it into his calves.

The sensation made his breath hitch. You were giving him a massage? He sat up on his elbows and watched the white-ish cream get all wrapped up in his dark leg hair.

“Darlin’-”

“Shh.”

He tightened his lips, feeling a bit futile all of a sudden. There was a pause before he spoke again.

“Don’t have to do this for me.” He insisted, his eyes on yours, but you were focused on adding subtle pressure to his calf muscles.

“Know I don’t have to. I want to. Lay back down.”

You wanted to. You wanted to take time out of your evening and bathe him in attention. You had cooked one of his favorite meals, and to perfection he might add. You also let him watch a show he wanted to watch, something he knew you didn’t have a taste for. But you were intrigued anyway, to show you cared.

He was so comfortable and at ease, the problems of today didn’t seem to matter much anymore when you were here to greet him so lovingly.

Your fingers kneaded gently into his skin, Joel’s eyes dipping closed as he began to sink deeper into the mattress. Of course he couldn’t just do nothing. He had his warm palm splayed on your back where the shirt you were wearing was riding up a little bit. You smiled at the gesture. No matter how much effort you tried to dedicate to Joel, he was still showing his care even when he was dead exhausted.

You worked the lotion up into his thighs, the slight tug on his hairs making his face crinkle a little. You dared not to get too high, again, not to give him the wrong idea of where the massage was heading. It was okay to be just attentive to his needs for tonight. You could relax him in other more sensual ways another time. He needed something a little deeper.

You leaned down and peppered sweet kisses up his torso and over those salt and pepper chest hairs you admire so much, stopping just at his lips with a small smile.

“So handsome.” You praised in a whisper, kissing him with a grin on your lips.

He hummed softly and moved his hand to gently cup the back of your head, keeping your kind presence in his proximity just a moment longer.

“I’m getting too old for you.” He whispered back in a teasing tone, making you bubble up a laugh in your shared space.

“You’ve always been too old for me.” Your thumb gently glided over his chin and admired a small white patch just at the base where his neck sloped down. “But I’ve never minded. Because you’re a good man. A hard working, blue collar man. It’s very sexy.” You teased with a smile, happy to see one blossom on his lips as well.

“Thanks for treatin’ me so good tonight. This week’s been…” he let the sentence die before shaking his head.

“I know, Joel.” You said with a small nod before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips again before sitting up straight.

“Wanna roll over and I’ll do your shoulders?”

He let out a breathless laugh as he looked up at you. “Please.” Like you had to ask.

He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but boy, maybe he should start asking for it.

Joel moved to lay on his belly, letting out a short groan in the process that made your chest flutter.

You let out a short huff before you straddled his back, topping yourself right on his butt after getting a short groan from Joel for being on his tailbone.

More lotion was squirted into your hands before you started to apply it across the landscape of his back.

“We should do a skincare night.” You said, feeling his body shudder at the cold lotion.

“Uh what?” Joel’s voice muffled against the comforter, his head to one side so he could see you just out of his peripheral.

“You know what skincare is, you see me do it every night.”

“I don’t know what the he-ll you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He said, his words stuttering as you pushed particularly harder in his lower back. Jeez, it was knot after knot under your fingertips.

“Ugh, Joel!” You whined as your motions paused.

Joel had a habit of doing this. Declaring he had no idea what it was that you were talking about, making you tirelessly explain for several minutes, before he goes ‘Oh, why didn’t you just say that? I know what that is.” It made you roll your eyes each and every time.

“You’re handsome, but you don’t listen.” You hummed out before cupping your hands at his shoulders and doing circles with good pressure, your upper body weight being put into his stern muscles.

“All I heard you say is that I’m handsome.” He moaned into the sheets, a blush creeping on your cheeks at his comment, but also his heavenly moan.

“It’s.. where you apply skincare to your face. You know, using a cleanser, applying an exfoliator, moisturizer..”

This was when Joel started muffling random nonsense into the sheets and you playfully pushed into his crying shoulders harder until he let out another long groan of discomfort.

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re talkin’ about. Skincare. I don’t need it.”

You tutted, shaking your head as you held in a laugh.

“Everyone needs it. Every. One.” You said as you leaned down and kissed the back of his head where his curls were starting to form.

“Especially you, Joel! Your pores are so big, you’ve got dust and dirt getting all in there. And it’s been so hot outside, your skin’s drying up. Gotta take care of your skin baby.”

“Why? So I’ll look young agian?” He teased as he reached a hand back and squeezed your hip as well as he could from his position.

“Because it’s good for you. Makes me feel good after a really long day.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a throat hum leaving his lips. “Thought I made you feel good after a really long day.”

A huff left your lips as you were back to doing circles into his shoulder with your thumbs. “Shut up.”

The last of the lotion had sunk into his skin, the massage hopefully healing more than just his dry skin.

Night’s like this with Joel were rare, but exceptionally special. He had energy to talk to you about everything under the sun, something you didn’t expect to transpire with your age difference at first. You discussed your mutual plans for the weekend, a barbeque at Tommy’s house. Joel was insisting on you wearing your new bikini, green to match his beautiful eyes. He could be such a horn dog.

He wanted to stay up as long as he could, but the long day he endured couldn’t help but put weight on his eyelids. His words turned to mumbles, his arms snaking around your waist in his silent gesture to fall asleep with you.

You shook your head with a small, tired smile, your hands planting themselves on his forearms to put a stop to his motions.

“Turn around.” You whispered, the notion making his tired eyes pop open with a “huh?” leaving his parted lips.

“You heard me, old man. Turn around.” You said as your hand roamed over his warm hip.

Joel assumed you didn’t want to cuddle tonight, maybe he was too warm for your taste despite the fan running above the both of you.

Joel’s chest tightened as he felt your warm body return right behind him, a bashful grin on his face.

“Are you tryna big spoon me?” His southern accent was dripping heavier than usual with the tiredness stringed in it.

The question erupted a giggle from you, Joel feeling you kiss over his taut shoulder blade.

“I don’t know how well I can big spoon you.. You’re so long.” Your arm tightened around Joel’s waist anway, his big hand finding yours as your fingers interlocked. He felt grateful in this moment, albeit a bit shy about the position. He was used to being the big spoon, it was different for him to be on the receiving end. But it was warm and settling, he couldn’t deny that.

“So I’m uh.. I’m like the ladle to your big spoon?” Joel asked. He could feel your grin on his back, your legs tangling with his own.

“Yes… you’re the ladle, but even the ladle needs a big spoon.” Joel’s blinks slowed until his eyes were closed, heavy with sleep.

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him.

“Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

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