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girlboybug · 10 months

Text

Crush

"he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds."

what's playing 🎧: crush by ethel cain

pairing : bfd!joel x reader (no outbreak au)

word count : 14k (oops)

*unedited*

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, handjobs, references to m!masturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, light dirty talk, riding, soft dom!joel, but also switch coded joel if u squint, slight angst kinda sorta

TRIGGER WARNINGS : lowkey dubcon just bc of the power imbalance that comes with the age gap but everything is consensual as always. joel knew the reader when they were 4, 16 years have passed so now they're 20! brief mentions of messy home life and brief descriptions of verbal sexual harassment

A/N : i've been dying to write bfd!joel, and when i heard crush i knew what i had to do lolol. so sorry this took ages, it wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are lol. i hope you guys enjoy <3 comments really motivate me, so if you liked it plz lmk in the comments :3

your eyes continually drift over to the time glowing in the corner of the screen on your register, wondering when joel was supposed to swing by. you pray that he hasn’t forgotten his promise to your dad of checking out your air conditioner to see what needs to be repaired.

the tiny fan that sits beside your half drinken water bottle does little to nothing, and it only adds insult to injury.

you think back to last night at dinner, in your air conditioned home, about the ‘exciting’ news your dad had to share. he rattled on about how he ran into an old college buddy and family friend, joel miller down at the pro bass shop—and of course it was at the pro bass shop.

after a few jogs of your slightly depleting memory, you finally, somewhat, remembered a face to the name. you vaguely joined in with your parents’ reminiscing of how he used to come over with his little girl sarah for play dates, and occasionally babysitting you when your parents went out on their date nights.

they also were quick to tease you about your little crush on him, one you swear you can’t remember, which in your defense, you really don’t, and desperate to change the subject, you asked about his wife, which only worsened the allegations of your crush on him.

“goin through a divorce, it’s actually why he moved back here, but i’m sure you’re happy to hear that,” your dad snickered with a little nudge, and you wanted to bury your face in the steaming mashed potatoes on your plate.

once you managed to wrangle them out of the conversation of your alleged feelings towards the man you barely remembered, it was briefly mentioned that he’d be coming by today to check out your broken down air conditioner at the store your parents owned and operated.

you’re the cashier there, unwillingly of course, but it helps pay for your very expensive books you need for your classes, so it’s not a total issue. however, as you blanky look around the empty sweltering convenience store, you honestly consider closing up early and ubering home to soak in a nice, cold shower.

the bell that hangs from the door rings at the front entrance, but you’re too tired and worn down by the heat to say your usual greeting, instead deciding to just remain slumped in your small wooden stool, aimlessly trying to angle your mini fan at the most optimal point of your face.

your peripheral view catches a navy blue hued shirt, and your head lifts upwards to get a better look in case it’s a customer.

your eyes fall onto an older man smiling down at you, crossed arms bulging from behind his short sleeves. something bubbles in the very pit of your stomach. “mr. miller?” you ask, slightly unsure, but he nods, chuckling when his arms drop to his sides. “heya hun, it’s been awhile, how are you?” he leans in for a hug, and you suddenly don’t feel the sweat that’s been stuck to your skin for the past three hours as you rise to your feet and off the stool to meet his arms that come around your waist. you manage to stutter a response of, “i’m good, and you?”

“doin’ alright,” he says through a grin– oh god, his grin is so pretty, you think you almost see a cartoonish sparkle glint in his teeth from the fluorescent lighting.

your stomach bubbles up the more you take him in, and oh no. the worst possible thing just came to fruition.

your parents were actually right.

he pulls back, hands still on the backs of your arms as he takes a moment to really look at you. “you’re so grown up now honey, i remember when you were just this big,” he holds a hand just below his hip and you join in his light laughter, feeling those fluttery feelings you felt all those years ago rush to your chest and tummy like a dormant volcano erupting.

he hasn’t aged a bit, maybe a few more wrinkles here and there, and the crows feet beside his eyes deepen more now when he smiles, along with the grays that take the place of where some strands of brown used to be. but he’s just as beautiful as your fuzzy memories, if not more.

“y-you look exactly the same,” you chuckle nervously, trying to not give in to the magnetic pull tempting your eyes in the direction of his chest and abdomen. he grows a little bashful, glancing away for a moment before he replies, a little pinker in the cheeks than before. “i definitely don’t weigh the same, sweetheart,” he sighs playfully, patting his stomach.

you hear the traces of slight disappointment in his words and it saddens you. you shake your head, feeling even warmer under the heavy feeling from his eyes blanketing over you while you frown ever so slightly. “i think you look great.” you say truthfully, feeling nervous as soon as the words part from you, worried he might think you’re too forward, but instead he smiles again, looking down at his boots.

“you’re too kind.” he grins, looking back up at you, his fingers running along the side of his beard. you feel flushed, glancing away from his smiles.

“goddamn, it is hot in here,” he pinches at his shirt, pulling it back and forth to get a slight breeze. you nod vigorously, plopping back into your stool, fanning yourself once more. “i can show you were the ac’s at,” you offer, and he agrees.

you guide him to the useless machine, eyeing it down with an irritated look, as if it were alive, and purposefully broken down to spite you.

he walks over to it, bending down to its level and you balance on your heels awkwardly, overthinking on if it’s the correct social etiquette to say anything right now.

“hmm, lemme get my belt from the truck, i’ll be back hun,” he nods at you, sending you a smile before he disappears out the store and back to his truck.

when you’re sure he’s out of view, you curl in on yourself, holding your face and opening your mouth to let out a silent scream.

all it took was seeing him for two seconds, for a crush you didn’t even remember existed until last night to come back immediately.

when he returns, he sends you a smile before he goes right to work, setting up shop beside the air conditioner, toolbelt wrapped around the alluring circumference of his waist.

you imagine what it’d be like if it were your hands instead of the worn down leather that envelops him, how his skin would feel in your palms and jesus, you are being so creepy right now.

he talks while he works, listing about all the things wrong with the ac, jokingly calling your dad a cheapskate for not being willing enough to upgrade to a functioning one that wasn’t manufactured before you were born. and of course, you laugh, leaning against a counter, hoping he just so happens to turn to the side to spare you a glance and notice that you look effortlessly sexy.

he mainly keeps his focus on the task at hand but, you keep hoping he turns to look over at you at some point.

no customers have come in yet, and for once you are eternally grateful for a slow day.

your eyes trail from his biceps, down to his strong forearms, they look safe, secure, like they could hold you and keep you locked in, and his hands…god his hands.

they’re long, and big. his wide palms that splay across the side of the ac make the machine somehow look small in comparison. his fingers are so skillful, prodding and working at the screws and confusing bits you didn’t even know were a part of the contraption — but honestly the mechanisms of the ac are not what you care about right now.

you care about how it would feel if it were your sides, your hips, being touched and caressed instead of the machine, and how his big strong hands could hold onto them, grip them, squeeze them tight like a real man would.

you notice the way he swipes his forearm across his forehead, clearing away the sweat that beads over the skin, feeling bad that he’s doing so much manual labor in such terrible conditions.

you depart from your shared space for a moment, padding towards the refrigerators stocked full of drinks.

you return to him, tapping his shoulder and smiling brightly when he looks at you, eyes darting down to the cold root beer in your hands. “for you. least i can offer while you work,” you beam and he chuckles, switching some weight onto his left foot, his hand resting on his hip when he graciously takes the bottle from you.

“well thank you hun,” he tips his head at you, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig.

you watch the way his lips curl around the rim, how his hand just about swallows the entire bottle and the way his adam’s apple bobs while he drinks. you have to fight back the urge to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the tingly feeling spreading inside you.

“how’d you remember i like root beer?” he asks, eyes peering at you with a warm surprise, his fingers twisting the screwdriver into the side of the ac.

you hop up onto the counter beside him, swinging your legs while you shrug. “just randomly came to mind i guess,” he turns to look at you, taking note of the way his eyes land on your bare legs first before they flicker back up to your eyes. you feel a little cocky about that.

“always were a helpful girl,” he says, and you just about glow at his little compliment, folding a leg over the other while you rest on your palms, trying to hide how big your smile grows.

“thank you,” you say quieter, shyer than you mean to.

you two converse a bit longer, and you decide to sneakily flip the open sign to closed in the window while you listen to his responses.

the topic of college is brought up, and you respond to his questions about how it’s going, what you’re majoring in, and you answer, creative writing, feeling flushed when he pauses his work to smile at you.

“an’ you know what, you always were a storyteller when you were young, i bet you’ve only gotten better since,” he says wistfully, fondly imagining you typing away and creating stories he’d happily read all about.

he’s not a big reader, but for you? he could be.

when he finishes up, he calls you over, turning the knob on high and watching as the ac releases what sounds like a guttural groan before a gust of icy air greets your bare arms.

you gasp and squeal in delight over no longer being slowly cooked to death in your parent’s mini mart.

“thank you mr. miller you’re literally the best,” you gush and he waves you off, gathering his tools as he nears the register.

“ahh don’t worry ‘bout it. i’m happy to do it. ‘specially if ya had anyone else do it for you, i know you’d get charged damn near an arm and a leg,” he rests his hands on the counter and your eyes trace over his long fingers while you make your way beside him. you feel giddy when you notice the tan line on his ring finger.

a reminder of the fact that he’s single now.

you just nod, holding back from saying something along the lines of how you’d be more than happy to pay him for this service with a…different kind of service of your own in return.

“so how much was the root beer hun?” he asks, flicking through the bills in his wallet. you immediately shake your head, ignoring his protests of accepting a free drink.

“no that was on the house mr. miller, i will not take your money,” you say stubbornly and he squints at you, huffing in defeat. “you sure? don’t want you gettin’ in trouble with your folks if they find out you’re out here givin things away for free now,” his hands settle on his hips and he gives you a playfully testing look, still managing to cause a flurry of emotions to ripple inside your lower tummy.

“who’s gonna tell them?” you counter, voice lowering just a little, eyes following in suit as you stare up at him.

his soft chuckle fades between his parted lips at the shift in your demeanor. his jaw comes down for a second before his lips curl to the side. “alright, thank you sweetpea,” he concedes just an octave above a murmur.

“is there anything else you wanted to get? because in all seriousness, they’d probably get more upset at me for actually charging you instead of just letting you have it for free.” you say truthfully, feeling positive that your dad wouldn’t mind joel taking a few things home free of charge.

he holds out that big hand of his, chuckling when his gaze shifts to the ground before it rests back over on you. “nah s’alright hun, root beer was already mighty gracious of you,” but you’re not buying it, you head behind the register, arms extending along the expanse of the wall of products, pretending to sell the items like you’re showcasing the prizes on a game show.

“you suuure? anything you want, completely free,” you offer temptingly and his lips collect themselves to the side of his mouth, chuckling mutedly, a little shake of his head as he watches you.

“alright,” he leans forward, and you feel your throat get a little tight at his ministrations, suddenly noticing the slight glimmer of a chain hidden beneath his shirt.

“can you get me that pack of marlboro reds behind you hun?” he points at the carton of cigarettes, and for some reason his request makes your stomach get tight.

you think back to how not even a day ago you rambled about your visceral dislike for boys, discarding them as a waste of time — but joel isn’t a boy. he’s a man, and may the version of yourself who existed moments before he came in, forgive you for being a melted pile of hypocritical mush he’s managed to turn you into in the span of less than two hours.

you can hear your mother’s scoff in your head as you find yourself feeling giggly at his choice of a freebie. it’s just so. manly.

he’s so manly.

you hand him the carton and he pockets it, not before taking a cigarette out, deciding to indulge early. “thank you sweetpea,” he smiles, cigarette already being placed between his lips.

“no problem,” you nod with a grin. he eyes the closed sign before he looks at you once more with a knowing smirk. “closing early i see,” he pointedly nods at the sign and you shrug with a sheepish little smile, neither confirming nor denying the notion.

“lemme guess—folks won’t mind? and would actually be more upset if you didn’t close up early?” he teases, and it almost feels like flirting. you decide to tell yourself it is. so you play along, rolling your eyes and waving your hand dismissively with an equally teasing ha. ha. ha laugh.

“it’s been a slow day, so no, they actually won’t mind, for your information,” you fold your arms, wriggling your face blithely. he chuckles, lighting his cigarette, taking a drag before he continues. “d’you need a ride home then hun?” he asks, genuinely offering and you have to forcibly give yourself a moment to pause before immediately yelling an overly enthusiastic YES PLEASE.

“are you sure? you’ve already done a lot for me today,” you act a little bashful, mostly because you are, but you also are attempting to hide the excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of being alone with him in his truck.

he shakes his head, exhaling the smoke from his lips silently, unknowingly entrancing you. “ts’ not a problem at all, cmon,” he motions his head towards the door and you trail along like a lost puppy.

you lock up the door behind you before you’re greeted by the sight of joel holding the passenger seat open for you.

your face gets hotter than it was before he fixed the ac at the sight of his chivalry, pretending to curtsy with your invisible dress before you climb into his truck, mumbling a shy thank you, as he safely closes the door behind you.

he hops in, and you read your address out for him as he turns the keys in the ignition.

it’s a little silent for awhile, but it’s okay, you’re content stealing glances at him, hiding behind the fist that supports the weight of your tilted head, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes cast over him adoringly.

he’s so beautiful. you definitely had taste as a kid.

he even looks strong, and not in an annoying machismo way, but in a natural, humble way. a kind way.

you want to touch his broad shoulders, kiss your way down his biceps to his forearms and down to each and every finger of his. you want to kiss away all the callouses and take care of him the way he deserves.

you can’t believe you’re daydreaming about him in such a way right in front of him, especially since it’s the first time you’ve seen him in about 16 years and this is how you react.

oh well.

the contrast of grey in his soft looking brown hair is so complementary, you hope he hasn’t turned into one of those guys that put dye over it, because frankly you think the natural look suits him quite well.

you drift your stares down to his strong hooked nose, admiring how charming it is. you want to trace your finger tip down the slope of it, and uh oh he’s looking at you.

you can’t be too obvious in your actions, despite the fact that you already are, so you just smile instead of whipping your head around in the opposite direction like you wish you could. “can i try?” you ask, motioning towards his cigarette, trying to play off the situation as to not expose the real reason why you were staring.

he just chuckles under his breath, his smile lingering when he turns to look back at the road. “that’s ahh, not really a good habit you wanna get yourself into sweetpea.” he says with a small shake of his head.

you almost give up right there, but you decide to push just a little further. “it won’t be a habit, i just wanna see the appeal is all,” you turn in the seat to fully face him, smile growing when he leans his head towards you in a jokingly exasperated tilt. he says your name warningly, and you deflate for a moment, worried he may actually be annoyed with you.

you don’t say anything else and he notices, feeling bad at your silence. he sighs with guilt, wanting to remedy the incorrect thoughts you have of him being upset at you as he hands you the cigarette. you instantly perk, taking it into your own fingers. “careful now. you might choke, waters right there in the cup holder if it burns. don’t inhale it too long,” he instructs, watching you from the corner of his eyes to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

you wave away his worries, placing the stick between your lips, feeling warm all over when you get a thought that says it’s kind of like we just kissed through the cigarette.

you inhale, hold it in for a few passing seconds before you’re proving his warnings correct, coughing loudly and not flatteringly whatsoever.

you try to face away from him, your eyes beginning to water and your throat burning worse than when you smoked from a very suspicious wax pen. the last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this.

he brings a hand behind your back, rubbing it soothingly as he sighs to himself, feeling a tinge of guilt for letting you smoke.

“easy honey easy, drink some water,” he hands you the bottle of water and you down it, blinking away your tears as you hand him back his cigarette. “that was so embarrassing i’m so sorry,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“s’alright honey, least now i bet you really won’t wanna make this a habit now right?” he asks, hoping you confirm your aversion to cigarettes. you instead choose to tease him a little, humming a contradictory response to his question. he squints at you and you giggle. “i dunno, might have to try again so i can really make sure.”

he taps the ashes out the window, laughing at your reply. “you’re gonna get me in trouble with your dad there hun f’he finds out i turned his daughter into a little chain smoker,”

you slide your hands under your thighs, watching him for a moment before you speak. “i won’t tell if you don’t,” you repeat yourself from earlier, alluding to something else, hoping he reads your mind and understands your allusions.

he purses his lips in a slight upward furl, looking at you once he’s reached a red light. “someone’s gotten a whole lot sneakier since the last time i saw her,” you laugh, leaning into the headrest while you look at him. “a lots changed since,” you say, voice falling quietly and he holds your stare, his eyes betraying him by clearly darting down to your lips. the red light switches back to green, forcing him to look away from you.

your chest bloomed at the way he looked at you in that moment, unsure if you’re delusional in even considering the possibility he maybe could reciprocate the attraction you’re feeling. but a little delusion never hurt anyone anyways.

“it sure has,” he agrees, the corner of his eyes taking in your figure once more.

but he shakes the thought from his head, almost rebuking it and instead deciding to change the subject. “can’t fault you too much though. sarah’s the same way sometimes,” he says through a chuckle that sounds nervous — did you make him nervous?

again, you tell yourself you did.

you sit up straight at the mention of sarah, visibly growing excited. “oh my god sarah, how is she? it’s been so long, i’m sure she doesn’t remember me,” blurred memories of playing with plastic makeup sets, and real makeup you two ‘borrowed’ from her mom, replay in your mind at the mention of her.

he shakes his head, disagreeing at your slightly saddened thought of being forgotten by sarah. “she’s good, she’s in school just like yourself, and she does remember you hun! matter a fact, she’s home right now, if you’d like, you can come over for dinner and catch up with her,” you clap your hands together excitedly, nodding happily at his suggestion.

“yes! that sounds amazing, i would love to!” you accept and he smiles at the thought of his two girls sitting together talking at the dinner table.

“i’m sure she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you,” he squeezes your knee and you go still, frozen in place when you feel the heat from his palm radiate into your skin.

his touch is gone too soon, you want to hold his wrist and keep him there, but you pretend his fleeting touch doesn’t affect you as strongly as it actually does.

the heat from his skin has become yours and you cradle it, pretending you’re not beaming in his passenger seat from it while he talks.

“i’m kinda nervous, it’s been so long,” you say, pressing the backs of your fingers to your cheeks and feeling the warmth of nervousness flush to the surface of your face.

“don’t be sweetpea, nothin to be nervous about, i promise,” he comforts your nerves with a soft voice, and you allow it to cushion you.

—

joel was right about two things.

you really did have nothing to worry about, you and sarah clicked right away as if no time had passed. she squealed when she saw you, racing towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug, rambling about how she’s missed you so much. it felt good to know you were never forgotten in her mind.

he was also right about sarah being sneaky.

or rather ‘persuasive’ and ‘just so happens to forget to mention certain things’ as she would put it.

she managed to convince both joel (which didn’t take much convincing to begin with) and your dad to let you sleep over, which you were ecstatic about for obvious reasons but also because she saved you from having to scramble for a reason as to why you closed up the shop early.

you’re in her bed now, sitting behind her while you help gather her hair into her baby pink bonnet, talking about anything and everything there is to talk about. while also getting ready to sleep off the high from the wax pen she has hidden under her pillow.

“i can’t believe you’re really here with me right now,” she grins as you move back in front of her, leaning into her opening arms.

“i know, me too, it’s been so long,” you hum, rubbing her shoulders. “i’m kidnapping you by the way, this was all just an elaborate scheme to lure you in.” she mentions casually and you laugh, falling back into her bed with her while you rest your head on her shoulder.

“fine by me,” you say, and you mean it, but you don’t add that in.

“i’m happy you’re here,” she whispers, her nose scrunching up against yours. you smile, holding your forehead to hers. “i am too.”

“are you busy tomorrow?” she asks, pulling the blankets over your bodies. you shake your head, curling under the covers. “nah, we’re closed tomorrow at the store and i don’t have school that day,” you say, feeling pure adoration as you watch sarah’s smile grow the more she listens to you talk.

“why don’t we spend the day together then! my dad’s gonna be at work so we’ll have the house to ourselves,” she whispers as all the excitement from the day starts to add weight into your bones, easing you both into rest.

you nod and smile sleepily, leaning into her arm that drapes over your side. “okay, i’ll call my dad tomorrow,” you yawn and she closes her eyes at that, content by your answer.

—

it’s 3am. you should not be awake. but you are, and you’re looking over at sarah, wishing you were fast asleep like she is. you carefully peel yourself out of her arms, gently covering her with the blankets before you pad out of her room and down into the kitchen for some water.

you tiptoe down the stairs, your heart sinking nervously right into a tight spot inside your stomach when you see the fridge door agape, with a broad back sticking out of it, also in search of something to drink.

joel rises and turns to see your stilled figure standing awkwardly, staring forward like you’ve just gotten caught stealing.

he chuckles, scratching a few lazy fingers down his stubble when he shuts the fridge. “what’re you doin up sweetpea?” he asks, and oh god his voice is nice and gravely, a rasp from the depths of sleep that he evades every night careens around your ears and you nearly fold at the knees.

“just uh, randomly woke up and i couldn’t go back to bed. was just gonna get some water, sorry,” you sound meek and joel shakes his head, and walks closer. you panic a little. it’s a good panic.

“nuthin’ to be sorry about hun, i’ll getchu some water,” he holds your arm, smiling softly down at you, nodding at you for confirmation. once again his touch abandons the skin of your upper arm when he leaves to fetch a cup for your water.

your hand graces the skin he touched as you watch him pour you water. he hands it to you, and you thank him quietly, taking a sip from the old plastic disney princess cup he picked out for you.

“so what woke you up? you feelin’ alright?” he murmurs, coming in close again to press the back of his hand to your forehead. you weren’t overheating until he decided to do that.

you swallow hard, shaking your head beneath his hand. “n-no no—well i mean yes, yes i’m-i’m okay, i just wake up randomly at odd hours of the night for some reason sometimes,” you say hushedly, afraid to disturb the peaceful silence the night brings.

he nods understandingly, withdrawing his hand from your face and you want to tell him he can keep it there, but you mentally digress.

“happens to me too,” he sighs, visibly tired with a hand lazily running down his stubble. “sorry you’re goin’ through it too then hun,” his thumb runs a small circle over your shoulder comfortingly and your body molds around the curve of his fingers.

“it’s okay,” you mumble shyly and he smiles softly, his touch stalling on yours before it drops back to his side. the air that fills the quiet kitchen turns into something warm and calming when it floats between your tired bodies, and it feels nice. feels domestic. soft smiles mirror each other on your faces and you look away, unable to handle the weight of his stare.

“so, do you um…do anything that helps you fall asleep?” you ask curiously, mostly just trying to make conversation to keep him tethered to you, even for just a moment longer.

he scratches his scruffy beard and sighs, nodding like he’s somewhat ashamed to admit. you grow curiouser, deciding to test the waters and inch in just the tiniest bit closer. “and what do you do?” you question through a whisper.

“i smoke,” he responds just as hushed and you chuckle. “sounds like you’ve got a bad habit.” you prod, lightly teasing and he takes the playful jab, chuckling along with you.

“well, we’ve all got our vices,” he smiles at you in a way that's playfully guilty, and you roll your eyes with the same playfulness before speaking again. “was i stopping you from taking a smoke?” you ask, and he shakes his head, denying the notion. “no no, and if you were it’d probably be for the best,” he shrugs and you grin. an idea occurs in your mind.

“can i smoke with you again?” you ask bravely and the volume in his laugh rises before he’s silencing himself so as to not wake sarah.

“ain’t happenin’, shouldn’t have even happened the first time,” he immediately shoots down your request but you have a sneaking suspicion you’ll wear him down.

“but you said it helps you go to sleep,” you counter with a pout and he sighs with faux exasperation.

“hun,” he says warningly again, eyeing you in a way that pins you where you stand. “first time seein’ you in what? 15 to 16 years and i’m already becomin’ a bad influence on you.” he says amusedly, his fingers dipping into the pocket of his plaid pajama bottoms, tracing over the curve of the loose cigarettes that await him.

“it’s not like you’re giving me hard drugs mr. miller,” you say, tilting a shoulder at him persuasively. his eyes trace over your face for a few passing seconds, taking in the way you look back at him before he decides what to do next.

“last time, understand? just to help you sleep.” he says, but it sounds like he’s more so reminding himself than he is you.

“okay,” you smile, following him to the loveseat that faces the window, and you assume this is where he usually smokes.

he cracks open the window, and sits down into the plump cushion, leaning against the very texan quilt that drapes over the seat. you sit down on the arm of the seat, stretching your legs above his knees, the closeness in proximity feels so personal, and you want to live the rest of your life in this quiet and intimate hour with joel.

he hands you a cigarette, watching you put it between your lips, his available hand straying off to the side to grab the lighter that’s on the tray beside the loveseat.

he flicks the lighter on and your faces become illuminated by the small flickering flame. he looks beautiful as he carefully lights the end of it, his eyes on the bud of it while your’s memorize each and every wrinkle that crinkles around his eyes.

“inhale, careful now,” his words of concern blanket over you and pave a smooth passageway for the smoke to enter into your lungs, successfully preventing you from breaking out into another coughing fit.

you inhale, and keep it before you fan it out the window. he smiles and pats your ankle that rests beside his lap. “there ya go,” he nods the crown of his head at you proudly. you bow humbly, handing him the cigarette.

“feels nice. makes me feel warm,” you mumble tiredly, watching the way he takes a drag effortlessly. “don’t get too used to it now,” he chides, words shadowed amidst the mist of his smoke.

“i won’t,” you reply with a knowing smile as he goes to hands it back to you. he pulls his hand that holds the cigarette back, eyeing you. he says your name in that tone and you wave him off, taking the cigarette from his fingers. “kidding,” you remedy his worries of your possible nicotine addiction in the nearby future, inhaling another drag.

you two go back and forth like this for awhile, until the cigarette becomes an unrecognizable little stub,

“feel sleepy yet?” he exhales through a fanning breath, and you nod, watching him flatten the bud into the ashtray beside his side of the armrest.

“good,” he yawns, lazily running a hand across the side of his beard. “got a long day tomorrow — or today technically, an’ so do you little miss, try an’ get some rest.” he drawls softly, sleepily, and you nod your tired head at his words, free falling into them.

“goodnight sweetpea,” he says with a gentle finality, leaning in to hold you by the back of your head, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. you crumble into his touch, shutting your eyes as if to fossilize yourself in the moment.

“goodnight,” you whisper, feeling cold when he pulls away. you wish you had thought of something more to say, anything at all that would’ve kept him in your presence for just a little longer, but now you’re stuck sitting alone in the living room, watching his broad back ascend up the stairs, wishing you were trailing behind him, with your hand in his.

you finish the rest of your water before you’re trudging back up the stairs, the weight of exhaustion lowering its heft onto your shoulders with each step upwards.

and as you crawl back into bed with sarah, despite the attempts to push the thoughts away, all you can think about are the ways in which her father could tire you out until you fell asleep.

___

after that day, the miller household practically became your second home. more often than not showing up to their house rather than your own after school and work.

at first you were worried that maybe you were beginning to overstay your welcome, that maybe they just didn’t know how to tell you to stop coming over so often. but they quickly put those insecurities to rest when sarah called you wondering why you hadn’t shown up after work, saying how joel set a plate for you at the table and it was getting cold.

they were just as attached to you as you were to them.

they really loved having you over, loved getting to make up for all those years you all went without each other, taking the time to relearn everything there is to know about the other.

for instance, joel learned you have an affinity for tight tank tops that ride a little too low on your chest and rise a little too high whenever you bend down.

his fingers have a tendency to straighten out your spaghetti straps, and he always murmurs something along the lines of, showin a lotta skin today huh hun?

you’d grow warm under his touch, hiding behind a pretty grin and an excuse of oh, heat’s just gettin’ to me lately, or his personal favorite, damn dryer shrunk my clothes again.

he doesn’t mind whatever your excuse is, he’d just hand you his flannel, telling you to at least wrap it around your waist whenever guys were around, because i know how men think, he’d explain and you wouldn’t argue, you’d happily accept his flannel and listen to his heeding.

you wonder if he was having the same thoughts he was trying to prevent other men from having about you.

you like to tell yourself he was.

but there is one thing you don’t have to convince yourself of. joel really, truly, and utterly cares for you.

joel is nothing if not protective, he just wants to look out for you, make sure you’re safe, that you’re okay, and so when you called him at work, voice trembling and meekly asking if he can pick you up, naturally, he abandoned his meeting at work to race over to you.

creating blueprints for a new apartment building suddenly became unimportant the second he heard your voice crack over the phone.

he could hear the way your breath paused for a moment, only to come out shakily through tears when he asked if you were alright. your audible sadness casted immediate worry and concern over him, instilling itself in his chest.

he sees you now, rushing to walk out of the store, locking it on your way out, and he hops out of his truck, wanting to be the first thing you’re greeted by as soon as you raise your head.

relief rinses through you the moment you see joel standing in front of his truck, your eyes betraying the attempt at strength you were fighting so hard to have the second he pulls you into his arms.

his hands feel warm and heavy behind your back, rubbing all the quiet sobs out from you with each gentle circular movement.

“oh babygirl,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling his heart break with each little gasp you make through your tears. “what happened?” he asks, unintentionally causing the tears to fall harder, making you fist at his button up.

“today has been so bad,” you finally say, your head resting on his strong chest, shaking fingers tracing over the seams of his button up in an attempt at self soothing.

“wanna get inside an’ talk about it?” he asks just above a whisper, keeping his voice soft for you. you nod, twisting the knife in his chest when you sniffle.

he helps you into his truck, shutting the door behind you, meeting back with you soon once he’s in the driver’s seat.

“now what happened honey?” he asks, and you take in a deep breath through the tears, waving your hands at your eyes to try and stop the stinging sensation at your waterline.

“today has just been one bad thing after the other,” you wipe away the stray tears with annoyed fists, wishing they would cease their incessant presence. “first, i got into a fight with my dad, he called me selfish and inconsiderate for not canceling class to come down to the shop earlier and that there’s no point in attending class because i’m just gonna get overwhelmed and quit anyway,” you barely manage to say tearfully, further etching a frown into joel’s features, his chest aching at the way you’re visibly hurting.

he says your name tenderly, matching the way his hand reaches out for you to hold. you squeeze his hand, holding onto it when it rises upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping a stray tear across your cheekbone.

you lean into his palm, shutting your eyes at his touch. “and i’m scared he’s right, today in class i was so stressed all i wanted to do was walk out,” you whimper ashamedly, and joel shushes you, bringing his free hand to fully hold your face, turning your gaze back up to meet his. his hold on you is delicate, like you’re a dandelion amidst a strong breeze, and all he wants to do is keep you with him, safe and sound.

your cheeks are cradled by his hands, his calluses turning into a thing of comfort against your cheeks, along with his thumbs that swipe away the tears that refuse to concede from your lash line.

he holds you like this for a while, wordlessly guiding your breathing with his, evening out your sporadic hiccups induced by your crying, settling your nerves down to a more manageable level.

your eyes flutter shut at the safety he drapes over you, your smaller hands holding onto his wrists, mindlessly running your thumb along his knuckles. “wish you were with me at work today,” you mumble, imagining the way he would’ve protected you from the creepy customers you had to deal with.

“what else happened?” he lightly coaxes it out of you, wanting you to get everything out so you don’t have to carry the burden of the day’s stress on your shoulders.

“these guys came in, and they were just so weird,” your hands tighten around his wrists, recounting the uncomfortable interaction you were subjected to.

“kept…kept making weird jokes about everything…i said if they needed anything to let me know and i heard one of them tell their friend i better be careful saying things like that, and they like—ugh,” you take a moment to catch your breath, refocusing on the way joel’s gently running his fingers across your temples, something he’d do for you in the middle of the night whenever you’d get a headache.

“they kept making jokes about me taking off my clothes because it’s summer and it’s hot or whatever i dunno it was stupid but they kept ‘suggesting’ i should lose the tank top because walking around in a bra is the same as wearing s bikini at the beach,” you grimace at the fresh memory, and joel wants to take it away from you, wants to wash you clean of all the pain you felt today.

when you look up at joel his jaw is clenched, lower jaw jutting out in anger, his hands falling from your face down to your hands, holding them in his, while he shakes his head. “fuckin’ disgusting,” he mutters to himself. “probably good i wan’t there, woulda fuckin’ killed them,” he utters under his breath, and more so to himself, his hands migrating down to your hands, squeezing them hard. his eyes that hold an image of what he’d do to the men who harassed you dissipate as soon as they shift back up to you. “i’m sorry hun,” he sighs, cupping your cheek, cradling you into his palm, speaking gentler this time, “an’ as for your dad well…he’s an asshole. but i know you already know that,” he pauses to smile at your little giggle.

“he couldn’t be more wrong about you. you are so smart hun, an’ you can and will accomplish everything you set your mind to.” the soft gravel of his voice tides around you like an embrace, enveloping you in it as an attempt to wash you clean of your distress.

your eyes well and your heart soars up high inside your chest at his kindness.

“thank you mr. miller, you are so nice to me, it—it means so much coming from you, and i can’t even begin to explain how grateful i am that you even came here at all,” he left work for you. you groan with guilt at the remembrance. “and—god i’m so sorry that i just like, randomly called you at work i’m so sorry you were probably super busy, i just didn’t know who else to go to,” you ramble with guilt, but joel’s already shaking his head as you rattle off with apologies, his hands coming back up to your cheeks, stilling the words on your tongue.

“hey hey hey,” he shushes you softly. “no apologies, okay?” his thumb runs under your lash line, clearing away your tears. “i’m glad you called me, rather you call me than have to hear what happened from someone else.” he pacifies your guilt for calling him, and he does it successfully, watching the upset furrow between your brows disappear.

your lip trembles and you suck it in between your teeth, closing your eyes and leaning forward into his chest. he takes you in with no hesitation, his arms forever acting as a sanctity for you to hide in whenever you need.

he hesitantly pulls away from you for a moment, mumbling a soft, give me a sec sweetie. he shifts around to the pull at the bottom of the driver seat, extending it backwards and giving him more space between him and the steering wheel.

“cmere,” he says above a whisper, opening his arms for you once more. you’re being guided into his lap, gently wrangled in until you’re wrapped up in the thick protection of his strong biceps. he rubs your back, head resting safely on top of your’s, keeping you down to earth, keeping you in his arms.

he takes in all your tears, takes in every racking sob from your chest into his, his lips every so often pressing their silent reminders of his presence into your temple. he rocks you back and forth, his soft shushes folding over the sound of your fading cries, lulling you into a calmness you didn’t know you could feel.

“you’re okay, you’re okay,” he promises, and you believe him. you finally raise your head from his chest, the scent of him still lingering around you, his presence feels pliable, the way he’s looking at you, eyes downturned and scanning all over your face lovingly feels like a sign you know isn’t real. he says nothing, just clears away your stray tears, and that’s when you act.

you lean in, holding his wrist and intertwining your fingers as your lips do the same. you sigh into his mouth, ascending in his arms when you feel him kiss you back just as rushedly, almost like if he’s too slow you’ll vanish from him.

but it’s him who vanishes first. he pulls apart from you with a gasp, shifting you further away from him in his lap, your heart immediately cracking straight down the middle. “what’re you…what are you doing?” his questioning comes out breathless, he feels like he’s asking himself rather than he is you, and he prays you say the right thing, he prays that you call him disgusting and that you climb right out of his lap, removing the temptation and opportune to lean back in.

but you don’t. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, embarrassment flushing through your whole body, he shuts his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. “i’m too old for you, you know that right?,” his knuckles drag across your cheekbone, and you nod solemnly, swallowing hard. “i’m not a kid though, joel,” you say shakenly, nerves rattling your bones when you say his name for the first time, unhidden by the lieu of mr. miller.

“compared to me, you are,” he sighs, his hands gripping his own thighs, weighing them down to prevent them from gravitating to your’s. “i’m too old for you,” he repeats to himself, closing his eyes and leaning into the headrest, the sight and feeling of you looking up at him in his lap is too much for him to combat. “i’d be takin advantage of you,” he mutters, shaking his head, guilt starting to settle into the base of his chest.

you’re quiet for awhile, and he takes it as his answer. that he’s right, this is wrong.

but you contradict his thoughts. reaching up to pull his gaze back onto you. “you’re not taking advantage of me, i know that i want this.” you promise hushedly, and he wants to believe you. your eyes connect once more, a quiet tug of air being shared between the two of you, and you’re willing to let him have it, to let him have all the air you can offer and more. he leans in and you stay still, watching when he inches backward when he gets too close, like you’re a flame whose flicker burns too bright the closer he gets. and when you inch in, you can’t get yourself to break the seal and press yourself into him, a weight of nerves keeping you stagnant before him.

his stare rises and falls down from your eyes to your lips, and you feel it in your bones that your body needs to have him more than it needs anything else. your gaze rests on him while your body acts for you, your hand finding his and holding it, squeezing it. “please,” you whisper, your words leaving you before you can process them. he swallows down everything holding him back, lurching forward to take your lips into his. his hand slides from yours, and up your arm, squeezing it as a test to see if you’re real. his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, kissing you hard and keeping you still, greedily wanting to keep you all for himself, wanting to memorize the taste of cherry coke on your tongue and raspberry lip balm on your lips.

it smears across his own lips, your taste immersing with his own, his mustache and beard tickling your skin just like you imagined it would, and you moan in his mouth at the feeling, flicking your tongue desperately over his, mindlessly bucking your hips against his. he groans deeply into you, grasping your hips and rocking himself into you, not a single thought in his head, just a carnal need to feel your cunt satiate the ache traveling down his cock.

you pull apart for a breath, lips still pushed together, foreheads melded in close, hips crashing into each other with need. “feels so good,” you whimper into his mouth, the pleasure from the friction making you blatantly honest.

he nods in agreement, never having heard truer words. his fingers indent the shape of themselves into your flesh, his hips acting on their own, desperate to push up into you while his mouth catches yours once more.

he groans, his cock twitching when he feels you slip your tongue into his mouth, a little moan of your own floating out when you taste a hint of root beer from his kiss.

your movements grow rushed, hands finding the heft of his flannel and fisting it to steady the heavy rocking of your hips crashing and tiding over his cock.

desperation flows in your veins where your blood once was, replacing all sense of anything except for the physical need to rut your cunt against his bulge. he can’t keep up, all he can do is let his head fall in your shoulder, his big hands coming around to find purchase on your welcoming hips. his thighs clench underneath yours, tensing when he feels you dampen him through his pants.

“baby,” he finally lets out shakily, thumbs running circles over your hips. “can’t—shit,” a beat passes with an involuntary grunt falling from his lips. “cant, can’t do this here,” he breathes, eyes hanging low upon you, his hips betraying his words with each thrust that meets your pelvis.

you slow your movements, catching your breath quietly, nodding in a silent agreement. “i don’t wanna stop,” you admit truthfully, no longer feeling bashful about the fact.

his cock aches at your honesty and he exhales through his nose, his hands tightening around you. “don’t have to,” he swallows, eyes drifting down to your hardened nipples. “just not here.”

his answer satiates you, which almost leaves him regretful when you climb off his lap and leave him cold and void of your warm cunt pressed up against him.

he starts the truck and all you can do is stare at the concentrated look on his face and his hands gripping the steering wheel.

you wonder if he’ll hold you by your throat the same way. your thighs squeeze together tightly, causing the hem of your jean shorts to rub against your clit just enough to soothe the ache inadvertently caused by joel.

he notices, eyeing you up and down, lips parted just a breadth at the sight. his hand itches to alleviate some of the pressure you’re carrying deep inside you, but instead he alleviates some of his own first. his right hand falls from the steering wheel for a moment, just to squeeze his cock when he watches the way you squirm and stare up at him from his passenger seat.

he turns away, knowing he’ll crash if he keeps staring at you, bringing his wandering hand back to the wheel.

“can i touch you?” you ask, seemingly innocent and his eyes shut for a passing second, a curt shake of his head joining the action. “not a good idea—“ he really wants you to though “gonna make me crash,” he exhales, though his hips say otherwise, inching towards your side with need.

your hand trails from his thigh down to his crotch, palming over him gently, and he grips the steering wheel, jaw vibrating with low groans.

a 10 minute drive has never felt so far until now.

your fingers curl over his bulge, straining against the seatbelt trying to lean in as close as it’ll let you until you decide to rid yourself of it all together.

“seatbelt,” he says warningly, and with concern, but you wash it away the second your lips meet the side of his neck, with your hand pawing over him to ensure his submission. and joel just about crumbles far too easily at the touches.

you’re impatient, he definitely sees that now, and you’re making it way harder than it needs to be for him to maintain his self control.

“i thought about this a lot,” you hum in his ear, leaving kisses in the wake of your warm words. his throat gets tight just like his lower belly, excitement strumming through him when he halts at a red light.

he turns towards you now, his hand dipping between your thighs, a little upward curl of his lips teasing the side of your cheek, his scruff leaving kisses of their own on your skin.

you stifle a whimper, holding onto his wrist when you grind down on his fingers. “thought about touching me like how i’m touchin’ you?” he murmurs, pressing chaste kisses to your jaw. you nod, your chest pounding at the wave of realization of what’s happening. it excites you.

“thought about it too,” he pulls away from you when the light turns green, and you stay frozen, your body suddenly unsure of how to function with a lack of his touch and proximity.

“didn’t wanna admit it to myself, but i thought about doin…a lot more than that whenever you’d come around,” he pays you a once over, his eyes lingering over the plushness of your thighs that fill his passenger seat.

“your skirts and shorts kept gettin’ so damn short, i felt guilty for wondering if it was on purpose,” a smugness takes over his face when he glances at you. “an’ now i know it was.”

you flutter at his confessions, a sense of pride swelling in you at the confirmation that your little tactics seemed to have paid off. “i just wanted your attention,” you say softly, words falling like pillows and he catches them with open arms.

his glance shifts from his crotch, up to your eyes knowingly, and he smiles faintly. “i can tell you that you had it even before you started wearin all that,” he rests his hand on your thigh, guiding the wheel with his left hand now. “but i can’t say i minded the change in outfits.” he brings his fingers over your clit, putting pressure over it and you whine quietly, bucking your hips into his touch.

“if you ever want me to stop you need to tell me okay?” he tells you, and he’s serious, his fingers pull away for emphasis and you nod profusely, holding onto his wrist desperately. “i promise, joel i don’t wanna stop,” you plead with him, and as a simple man that he is, he doesn’t seem to need much more convincing. the pads of his fingers run circles over your clothed clit, and you grind down into it, hungry for more.

“i want you,” you pant and he chuckles, drumming his thumb against the steering wheel.

“you’ve got me.”

“but i want more.”

—

it’s quiet when you arrive back at his house, the driveway is thankfully void of sarah’s little yellow volkswagen and relief blankets across your shoulders knowing she isn’t home.

he ushers you inside, his broad, strong chest pressed up against your back with his hands guiding you by your hips.

he closes the door with his back, leaning against it, watching you turn around to face him. it’s quiet for a few ticking seconds, and he watches as you lean in closer towards him. he doesn’t stop you but he doesn’t lean in to meet you halfway either. he says your name like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to utter it, purposefully avoiding eye contact. you hum a soft little “yes?” and he sighs, his eyes falling shut for a moment.

“this ain’t right,” he reminds himself, and his hands begin to loosen on your hips. you clamp a hand over one of his, the other coming up to lure him back into you, a gentle palm of yours cupping his scruffy jaw, thumb running across the crows feet that gather at the corner of his eye. “says who?” you counter gingerly and he chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head in your hold, feeling all restraint trickle straight off him the second his eyes catch yours.

you move your hand away from his when his grip grows tight again, letting your now free hand hold both sides of his face when you go up on your tippy toes to meet him for a kiss.

he catches you off guard and pulls you deeper into him, your crotches pressed flush together when he slips his tongue into your mouth, hooking and reeling you in.

you moan into his mouth and it eggs him on, sending his hand into a downward motion towards your ass. he feels smug when you whimper in his mouth, pushing harder against his cock when he squeezes your ass.

he rubs over your ass posessively, squeezing it hard, almost in disbelief that he gets to have you like this. kiss “need you to tell me if and when you wanna stop,” kiss. you don’t reply, you just fall into him whenever he presses his lips back to yours. your lack of a response leaves him discontent and he pulls apart an inch, eyeing you down expectantly. you huff impatiently, hooking your arms around his neck. “promise. i will.” which is good enough for him as he melds into you once more.

his hands roam all over you, caressing, holding, squeezing all the places that only his eyes have traveled.

it feels good, it feels all encompassing, to feel the trails of fire his hands leave all across your skin, and you can’t get enough. “can we,” a kiss to your throat, “go to your room?” you ask, somewhat breathless and he pauses for a second, eyes tracing the outline of your bitten lips before he nods. he holds your hand, leading you into his bedroom.

the second you’re inside you’re guiding him into his own bed after having shut the door. he gazes at you amusedly, handing you the reins for a moment, keeping his hands on the edge of them while you take charge. he thinks it’s cute.

you sit him at the edge of his bed, straddling him while you push at his chest until his back meets the mattress. you’re leaning back down, holding his face in your hands, your lips hastily meeting his once more. he welcomes you, his hands holding you down on top of him by your hips.

you grind down on him, panting in his mouth at how good it feels to have him pressed right against your cunt. but it’s not enough. you need more.

your hands travel down his strong chest, fixing towards unbuttoning his flannel. he lets you, busying himself with unbuttoning your little denim shorts, but he wants to unwrap you slowly. he wants to make a show of it.

he flips you on your back and you gasp, feeling hot under his stare and stature above you. his knees rest on either side of you, indenting the bed while he maintains eye contact. his fingers take their time unzipping your shorts, and you whine quietly, bucking your hips towards him.

he pushes you back down and shushes you. “patience.” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over your upper thighs. he doesn’t rush taking your shorts off, wanting to savor the feeling of getting to do this for as long as he can. the vision of you in his bed, wet, and impatient, laying before him in your little pink panties is about to make him burst.

he’s still fully clothed above you and it casts a warm feeling throughout your bare body. you bring your knees close to your tummy, shutting your legs at your sudden shyness. he moves in closer, shaking his head with his palms on your knees.

he pushes them back down, slipping a hand between your thighs. you gasp, arching your back into him and exhaling with relief when his fingers trace over your clothed clit. “i wanna see you honey,” he careens you gently, coaxing your shyness away. your legs part for him, and he takes full advantage, running the pads of his fingers up and down slowly, feeling the slickness start to bleed through your panties.

he pushes them to the side, swirling over your clit and feeling proud when you moan into his shoulder. he dips into your little soaked hole, exhaling into your neck at how wet you are. “barely e’n touched you and you’ve already made a mess,” he tsks you lovingly, hints of teasing in his words, and it only excites you more. your stomach and chest get tight at his touches and the way he talks to you, it’s so unreal, and you could honestly cry in this moment from how bad you want to fuck him.

“i always get like this for you—oh,” you cry out into his shoulder when he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, his digit so long that it easily hits the little spongy spot inside you that you usually struggle to reach.

“aw sweetpea,” he coos, kissing your forehead while his finger curls inside you. “got you walkin’ around all hot and bothered with no release, i’m sorry,” he kisses your temple, his gentleness contradicting the way he’s fucking you with his finger, grunting under his breath at how tight the fit is when he works in his ring finger.

you choke on a gasp at the stretch, starting to wonder if his cock will fit if his fingers are already making you feel like this.

“you gonna make it up to me?” you whimper, still maintaining an air of playfulness in your response. he chuckles, pulling apart ever so slightly to look at you, to watch the way you struggle to stare up at him with his fingers in your cunt.

“i’ll make it up to you, and then some,” he says, his voice falling low on a raspy curve. you believe him, his response feeling like a promise he intends to keep.

he’s on you again and you invite it wholly, legs coming around on either side of him go trap him into you. his fingers fuck into that sweet little spot inside you, every single flick of his wrist has your lower back bucking up into his touch.

his palm hits your clit with every movement, it’s almost cruel, giving you just an inch when you need a mile. you’re running your hands all over him, kissing him messily even when there’s a mix of your saliva dribbling on your chin and air is depleting from your lungs. none of it matters, all that does is consuming as much of joel as humanly possible.

your fingers struggle to unbutton his flannel once more, shaking and trembling too much to do it as ladylike as you wish you could but he doesn’t mind, it makes his cock twitch knowing he’s the reason why you can’t stay still.

“feels so good joel,” you whimper, fucking yourself onto his fingers when you finally undo all the pesky buttons on his flannel. he kisses your cheek, his beard tickling your skin while you slide your hands underneath his wife beater.

“good honey, s’all i wanna do,” he curls his finger right there, drinking in your cries with his lips clamped over yours. your nails drag down his chest and he winces above you, your lips still brushing together. “sh-shit m’so so sorry joel,” you remedy the scratches with gentle caresses but he shakes his head, kissing your chin. “no no s’alright baby—kinda liked it,” he chuckles, thumbing over your clit, precum starting to leak through his boxers at the way you keen into him at the little action. you giggle at his response, raking your nails softly down his chest, fingers suddenly halting only to begin trembling when he picks up the pace inside you.

“want more joel, i—fuck,” you’re panting, arching up into him, the saturation of the room is getting dimmer and glittery, it’s hard to keep your eyes open and the pounding in your chest and cunt is nearly blinding you. “need more of you, please? please god i’ll do anything,” your desperation is loud and clear and you couldn’t care less. he can feel it, can feel you gripping his fingers, squeezing him so good and he certainly hears how ready you are for him; he revels in the slick clicking sound eliciting from between your legs because of, again, him.

he swipes the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and he shushes you, kissing you wherever your tears appeared, rubbing that little spot inside of you soothingly.

you hum in pleasure, hands traveling up to his shoulders. “don’t need to cry honey, i’ll give i’to you,” his promises fan out over your lips, slipping his fingers out of you.

the loss of his fingers inside you feels cruel, you feel clingy, all you want is joel near you, around you, on you, and in you.

the sound of his hands undoing his belt hangs in the air, quiet and low breaths of desperation flicker from out your lips while you watch him pull himself out of his jeans. his cock, fat and heavy, and twitching, falls with heft on your lower tummy, resting with impatience on your skin.

you whimper, hand nervously wrapping around it, your fingers barely able to cover the thick circumference of it. “you’re huge,” you choke, unintentionally adding fuel into his ego and he chuckles, shaking his head when he kisses you.

“you’re flatterin’ me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping a hand around himself, guiding his tip to circle around your clit. you gasp, curling upwards into him, your forehead resting on his broad shoulder. you kiss his bare skin, the comfort of his skin to yours soothes you while he slides his cock up and down your folds.

“oh—ooh,” you suck in a big breath, hands flying to his forearms to hold onto when he starts to push in, his tip inching into you feels just as big as it looks. “shit,” you whimper at the burn that follows along with the stretch that he pushes into you and he pauses with concern. he hovers above you like a gracious adonis and it almost makes you forget the twinge of pain between your thighs.

“you need me to stop?” he asks, his words of gentleness cradling you and you shake your head, running your palms down his chest. “no, please keep going, i can take it,” you nod as further emphasis, pushing your hips up, aching to feel more of him.

he brings his lips to your’s again, sighing when he feels your little moan escape into his mouth. his cock rocks into you at a steady pace, unintentionally pushing you further up into his bed, and he holds onto you tighter, not wanting you to move an inch away from him.

“haven’t felt like—shit,” he shudders something like a whimper against your lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the sound. “ha-haven’t felt like this in so long honey,” he swallows hard, caressing the side of your face. “haven’t thought about someone like this in years’,” he groans, pushing his cock in deeper.

your clit pulses at the way he speaks to you, the way he fucks you. “had to fuckin’ jerk off like i was a teenager again after you’d leave—y’have no idea what the hell you’ve been doin’ to me honey,” he messily kisses you between each word, his thrusts growing heavy and rough inside you, the fat head of his cock prodding perfectly into the spongy little spot inside of you.

“should’ve told me sooner joel,” you whine, bucking your hips to feel more of his cock. “touched myself every night thinking of you,” you whimper out, eyes falling shut when you feel his lower half brush against your clit. he pushed in especially deep at your confession, and you gasp, holding onto him tighter.

“joel—fuck, sl-slow down, it’s so much,” you cry, barely able to hold onto him while he starts to pound into you, like he’s lost the reins and his body is in control now, an energy and stamina he hasn’t had since he was in his 20’s was back in full force and it all went into fucking you stupid.

“m’sorry honey—you just, ohfuck, feel so good an the things you’re sayin’ i just—fuck i can’t help it,” he breathes out, pressing a chaste kiss to your bitten lips. “just take it for me baby,” he groans, his hands squeezing your tits before traveling down to your hips.

his head hangs low while he splits you open on his cock, struggling to keep his eyes from shutting, but he forces them open to watch the way his cock stretches you wide. “you’re so big,” you whine, teeth coming down to sink into the heft of his shoulder. he groans in your neck, sending you a particularly hard thrust.

the scent of cigarettes wafts around you the more he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips nip at your skin and you whimper into his shoulder at the thought of you going home smelling like him.

his calloused hands mold to the shape of your body no matter where they travel, forming perfectly around you to hold onto you as tight as he can.

silence falls between you two, the only communication occurring is the shared grunts and groans that slip into each other’s open mouths. his forehead rests on yours, occasionally moving to your collarbone or ducking down to graze his teeth across your breasts, tongue darting out to wetten your nipples.

the sound of your soaked cunt getting fucked is near obnoxious—it’s loud, and you pray that the windows in his bedroom are shut, because there’s no doubt that if they aren’t, his neighbors will hear everything.

your legs shakily hang off his lower back, pushing him in deeper and deeper.

his thrusts start to slow in pace, and each drag of his cock inside you feels hypnotic, feels amazing, and he groans the same sentiments in your ear, kissing the skin behind it. “m’sorry,” his hips pause to a halt and you panic for a second, wondering if you somehow did something wrong. “everything okay?” you ask softly, clearing the hair away from his eyes. he nods, avoiding eye contact embarrassedly. “my back—startin to cramp up on me,” he mutters, pulling out of you and you hold back a sound of disappointment from the lack of weight on top of you.

he sits up, back facing away from you, head in his hands. “i’m sorry honey,” he apologizes, still not looking at you. you frown, shuffling on your knees towards him. you hold him from behind, kissing the side of his neck.

“don’t be.” you murmur, moving around in front of him now. you push at his chest gently, clambering on top of him. his eyes widen, a grin slowly spreading across his lips while his hands rest on your thighs. “what’re you doin?” he asks under a raspy breath, his cock twitching underneath you with excitement.

you hold his shaft, realigning him with your eager hole, leaning down to press a kiss before you speak. “i’m taking over.” is all you say as you sink down on his cock, wincing at the intrusion.

his eyes roll back and his head falls into the pillow, his hands starting to grip your hips. “baby,” he moans to himself, his cheeks growing hot. you have to inch him in at a cautious pace but he doesn’t mind, your tight warmth is something he welcomed wholeheartedly.

you start to grind your hips experimentally, hoping it feels good for him. you honestly have no idea what you’re doing. you’ve only had sex once but you don’t know if it even really counts.

if a guy putting it in then pulling out because he came too fast counted then, sure you’ve had sex.

however all of this; it’s different with joel, that was a boy, and now you’ve got a man’s cock buried in your pussy. and you want to make him feel like one, you don’t want him to feel ashamed about his age or anything like that. you’ll make him forget about everything.

you shudder a breathy moan at the new position, resting your hands on his broad chest, admiring the beautiful man that rests under you. “tell me what makes you feel good joel,” you murmur, head falling towards him, making direct eye contact with him. he swallows hard, his cock aching at how fucking hot you are.

“shit baby, just use me how you want, use my cock honey.” he groans, licking his fingers and bringing it to your clit. you whine, almost toppling over on top of him at the contact, but you hold yourself up, determined to make both yourself and joel feel good.

you grab his hands, unclamping them from the grip that rested around your hips and instead dragging them up your sides and onto your breasts, silently telling him to squeeze as much as he pleases.

and that he does.

he squeezes them, bucking his hips upwards into yours as he watches the way your flesh fills the gaps between his fingers. you rise and fall onto his cock, bouncing on it with a rhythm that hits every sensitive spot inside of you.

you look down to where you meet, sucking in your bottom lip at the sight of him disappearing inside of you each time you lower yourself onto him. you rock back and forth, whimpering at how deep he can reach in you. you watch the way he swirls his fingers over your clit, touching you better than you could ever do on your own time.

“c’mere honey,” he groans for you, and you obey, bending down to rest on his chest. he stops you before you can fully lay on top of him, holding you just under your ribs. he pulls you into his mouth, sucking over the soft flesh of your chest, tongue licking messily and hungrily all over your breasts. you gasp, arching your back into his mouth. “j-joel,” you moan, struggling to maintain the rhythm you built.

his teeth tease your nipples and you shiver, your nails digging into his shoulders at the sensation. you bounce on his cock, mind going numb and fuzzy while your senses take over, each thrust feeling like electric in your veins.

after he’s done sucking bruises into your soft flesh, your hands reconnect once more, and you pin them down beside his head, hovering above him while you ride his cock.

i love you, almost slips from your lips while you stare at each other, chests rising and falling heavily, mouths parted, tongues darting out to wet your lips with hunger. the words hang in the air without sound, you’re sure of it.

you grind down onto him as far as you can take him, feeling him nudge your cervix, and you whimper at just how deep he can go inside of you. he takes your moment of weakness as an opportunity to flip you right back to where you all started; underneath him.

you gape at him, unable to process his quick movements. you’re laying at the foot of the bed now, and he’s grabbing your calves, tugging you closer towards him. he pushes back in and wastes no time in pounding you like nothing happened. he grabs your leg, pushing it up further towards your chest, angling himself in even deeper, pure desire fueling him. “shit baby,”

he mutters, his hair falling in his eyes as he kisses your jaw.

he rubs your clit with his thick fingers and you cry out, starting to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. “think m’gonna cum joel, m’so so so close,” you whine, your eyes falling heavy with your impending orgasm.

“let me have it honey, cmon,” he kisses his encouragement into your cheek, fucking you with determination to make you cum, hard. his fingers never relent on your clit, and you can’t stop the panting that leaves your lips, all you can do is writhe beneath him while he fucks you through your dizzying climax. you moan his name in breathy chants, spasming as your body tries it’s best to ride out the stimulation that joel bombards you with.

his hips grow messy and sporadic, he’s catching your lips in a hot kiss, tongues clashing and saliva falling to the corners of your mouth. barely taking any time to break apart for air. “m’almost there—where can i…” he trails off breathlessly, unsure of how to ask in a way that a gentleman would ask but you don’t care, you don’t need him to sound like one, not when he’s fucking you as if he’s never heard the word before.

“inside, y-you can do it inside, please,” you beg with need, curling your legs around his hips and pushing down on his lower back. he shudders, and has a millisecond to want to ask you if you’re sure, but he can’t stop pushing himself inside you, it feels too good, and he’s glad you’re trapping him between your legs, because he never wants to stop.

“sh-shit, i’m cummin’ honey,” he shakily moans in your mouth, struggling to keep his kiss coherent but the way your spent cunt tightens around him makes him lose all sense. you whimper against his lips, feeling hyper sensitive to each and every touch, but the feeling of him cumming inside you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

he slowly pulls out of you, peppering your face with kisses when you make a sound of discomfort. you two lie in a comfortable silence, trying to catch your breaths. you turn to look at each other, and he smiles at you, leaning over to cup your face in his palm. “you okay?” he murmurs softly, running his thumb across your cheekbone. you nod into his touch, holding the back of his hand with yours. “yeah,” you grin. “you?”

he chuckles heartily, and nods as well. “yeah. i’m alright,” he sends a playful wink and you can’t believe that it still manages to make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you suppose he’ll always have that effect on you.

you stare at him for a little longer, testing the waters to see if he’ll stop you as you lift up his arm and scoot closer to him. and when he doesn’t, you smile to yourself while he only pulls you in closer, tightening his arms around you. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, and you’ve never felt more soothed before.

you trace the veins on his strong arm that cradles you into him, your head resting on his other bicep. you don’t want to disrupt the peacefulness that’s settled upon you both, but you have questions that just might do that.

“joel?” you ask and he hums a response. “would you ever want to do this again? or not even this but just…like…hangout?” you unknowingly grip onto his arm with nervousness, and hope that he says yes.

he takes in a breath and you shut your eyes at the impending rejection. “honey,” he starts, and your eyes glisten with tears already. “i don’t know if this is something we should’ve done to begin with—not that i regret it—lord,” he shakes his head, chuckling dryly to himself. “lord knows i don’t regret it. but i don’t know if this is something we could sustain. i want to though, sweetpea trust me that i do,” he tilts your chin towards him, feeling his heart break when he sees your watery eyes looking back at him.

“oh honey,” he sighs sadly, shifting you around so you can look up at him properly. his arms encase you, his warm hand running up and down your back while he pressed gentle kisses to your forehead. “why?” is all you manage to ask and he shuts his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head. “your dad’ll shoot me down and hang my body in front’of the whole neighborhood if he knew. and sarah? i don’t think she’d take kindly to me datin’ her best friend.” you hate that he makes perfect sense and you hate that you sound childish, that you didn’t even take either of those things into consideration.

“we don’t have to tell them—at least not now? and we don’t have to be anything serious, i just…i like being around you.” you softly murmur, feeling pathetic as tears line your lashes once again. he thumbs across them, ridding your eyes of their wetness. “i like being around you too,” he returns your sentiments, leaning down to peck you. it feels gentle, domestic, and you can’t imagine going without more of them.

“i’ll still pick you up after you have class, i still want you to come over for dinner like you usually do, nothin’ has to change and,” he closes his eyes for a beat. “—despite everything i said, i…i don’ know if i could handle not havin’ you around honey, feels like somethin’s missin’ when you’re not around.” he admits, and to himself as well, for the first time.

you bloom with happiness at his words, surging forward to kiss him. he holds you by the back of your neck, tracing circles into your jaw. you hold his face in your hands, pressing kisses along his cheeks, feeling warm all over and when he laughs. it’s filled with a comforting airiness.

he holds your wrist, turning to kiss your palm. he plucks your index finger, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently. “got me wrapped around this little thing,” he says just above a whisper, and your heart aches, overflowing with adoration.

the door suddenly opens downstairs and you both share a look of horror.

“dad? i’m home!”

#joel miller x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x female reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #bfd!joel #dbf!joel

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bittenbyyou · 10 months

Note

hello i’m not sure if you take requests butttt if you doooo could we get a fourth of july thing where the reader gets anxious from fireworks and just wants to be with peter for comfort for us sensitive girlies🙏😩🤭 (also i love ur writing it’s so sweet and silly hehe)

Title: Sparkles and Surprises

Fourth of July!AU | Fireworks!AU | Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, lil comedy

description: requested

word count: 2.7k

warnings: Peter doing the most and having horrible time management skills, one Far From Home reference, just fluffy fluff.

a/n: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! I've never done a request before, it was fun. I hope I did your request justice. Your compliment made me smile. :)

Peter checked his phone, alarmed to see the flurry of texts asking where he was. Time slipped by without him realizing and he had promised to be there for you tonight. He texted you back that he was on his way as he cleaned up his area in Mr. Stark’s lab. With a hurried thanks to his mentor, he was out the door swinging back to his apartment.

[Y/N]: Don’t text and walk!

Peter: 😘

Actually, he was texting and swinging, but you didn’t need to know that. Aside from almost crashing into a bus just now, he was fine. He couldn’t wait to show you what he had been working on because this Fourth of July was going to be perfect, thanks to his foolproof three-step plan.

In his backpack was step one, the thing he’s been working on at the lab for the past week. During the time you’ve dated, Peter learned you were highly sensitive to loud sounds. It startled you to the point of where you didn’t even like having balloons at your birthday party in case they popped. The very thought of today’s holiday brought you immense discomfort because you couldn’t stand fireworks.

So when your family said they were going to see the fireworks show, you sighed and accepted your fate of spending the night alone again this year. However, Peter couldn’t accept that. He didn’t want you to face your fear alone. He immediately offered for you to come spend the night over at his place. You feared you were holding him back from enjoying the night, but he didn’t care about fireworks. He cared about you.

“Okay, I’ll be at your place at 8:30,” you said over the phone.

“Great. Aunt May will let you in. I have some things to do with Mr. Stark and then I’ll be right there with you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“You promise you’ll get home before the fireworks show starts?”

“Of course.”

“Pinky promise?”

He laughed, putting his pinky in the air. “I’m pinky promising the imaginary you in front of me right now.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.”

You smiled to yourself. “Alright. Don’t be late.”

As he swung through the city, he spotted step two: your favorite place for take-out. He landed gracefully at the entrance and walked in, noticing how long the line was.

“Aw man…”

Checking the time on his phone, he tilted his head side to side, calculating if waiting in line was worth it. The thought of seeing your face light up with joy if he’d show up with your favorite food convinced him it was worth the hassle. He tapped his foot impatiently, deep down wishing Spider-Man got a free pass to the front, but he knew that’d be abusing his status. After enduring 15 minutes of waiting, he reached the front of the line and ordered your usual, making sure to include all the customizations and sauces you liked. Fortunately, the food came out quicker than the actual waiting in line to order. Peter rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash and spare change. He attempted to pay, but disaster had struck as the coins slipped from his grasp.

His eyes widened in disbelief as the floor transformed into a sea of copper. He let out an exasperated groan as he hunched down to pick them all up.

“Of all coins, why did it have to be pennies?” he muttered.

“[Y/N] is calling, Peter. Do you want to take her call?” his AI aka Peter’s suit lady asked.

“Oh! Yes please!”

“Babe, where are you? The fireworks show is starting really soon. I already hear some people firing them nearby.”

“I’m coming, beautiful. I promise I’m almost there. I got off at the wrong stop and it’s a long story, I’ll see you soon!”

He ended the call, feeling guilty for the white lie, but his plan would make up for it. Speeding up the process, he used his webs and lumped all the coins into one big blob, presenting the bizarre creation to the cashier with an exaggerated shrug.

“Keep the change,” he said, giving him a playful finger gun gesture. Leaving the perplexed cashier behind, he left the shop and checked the time, knowing he was ready for step three of his master plan.

It consisted of going to your favorite cafe, just a short block away. Peter’s confidence soared when he noticed there was no one in line, as if the universe was on his side. Approaching the counter, he flawlessly ordered your drink, stunning the employees with his eloquence in listing all your favorite add-ins. The drink was almost done when a group of enthusiastic fans burst into the cafe, excited to see the iconic red and blue-clad superhero.

“Oh my gosh, can we get a picture? Please?”

“Do a backflip!”

Even though Peter attempted to decline, he ultimately gave in because Spider-Man was compassionate. He loved all his fans (even the relentless ones who couldn’t take a hint). Besides, there was plenty of time to get back to you because he had now completed all three steps.

“Thanks Spider-Man!”

“Yeah, no problem!” he shouted back as he ran out of the cafe after the impromptu photo session. He checked the time once again, sighing in relief that he had time to spare. Unfortunately, his heightened senses detected something amiss nearby. Peter groaned, torn between his desire to help and the urge to get home quickly. “Damn it.”

He turned a corner to spot a group of criminals causing mischief in an alleyway. Setting down the food and drink, he approached them, determined to bring justice.

“Guess crime doesn’t take a holiday, huh?” Peter quipped at the startled group. They stopped fighting momentarily, staring at each other before sending a hail of bullets his way. Peter evaded their attacks effortlessly with a perfectly executed backflip, dodging the projectiles with ease. With a mischievous grin, he shot out a series of webs, ensnaring the criminals and leaving them dangling like confused pinatas.

Things seemed victorious for Peter until more thugs suddenly showed up, almost like a hidden level in a video game. He threw up his hands in mock frustration and groaned.

“You guys are ruining my night, you know that?”

*BOOM*

*Thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip*

“Hey, let us down!”

“I think you should thank me for giving you a great view of the fireworks. Have a blast, fellas!”

Oh man, you were totally going to kill him now. His phone was spammed with texts from you, mostly asking where he was.This was not how it was supposed to go down; his plan was meant to be foolproof. Panic set in, and he hurriedly grabbed the food and drink, bolting home to change in the only secluded spot he could find. Then he sprinted up the stairs to his apartment, unfortunately spilling the drink on himself from clutching it so tightly against his chest.

“No, no, no, argh, ew. Ugh,” he groaned, drenched in the beverage. He persevered and unlocked the door, stepping in and calling out for you.

*BOOM*

“Babe, I’m here!”

Aside from the fireworks, only silence greeted him in response. He threw his backpack onto the nearest table, glancing around the empty living room and kitchen. Where were you? Wait, where was Aunt May?

“May?”

*BOOM*

He narrowed his eyes, seeing his bedroom door open. He headed straight inside, only to see his bed covers slightly wrinkled and his blanket missing.

“Babe?” he called out, voice laced with concern.

From the left, faint sniffles reached his ears, drawing his attention to the closet door. He set down his stuff on the dresser and then opened the closet to reveal you, cocooned in a mountain of blanket, tears streaming down your face. As your eyes met his, he felt his heart ache.

“Oh my gosh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, immediately lowering himself to your level and enveloping you in a tight embrace, feeling how much you were trembling. A whirlwind of emotions flooded through you—anger for his lateness, fear from the fireworks, and joy from the comforting scent of his hoodie. Yet one emotion trumped them all as soon as your chests collided.

“... You’re wet,” you managed to say in between sobs. “Gross…”

“Ah, yeah, I did this stupid thing and spilled the drink I got you.” He quickly took off his hoodie and discarded it to the side, hugging you once more.

“You’re late.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You pushed him off you and hit his chest repeatedly, your strikes were too weak to do any real damage. “You were late!”

*BOOM*

You jumped back into his arms, scared out of your wits. He couldn’t help but chuckle, holding you tight with one hand on the back of your head.

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” you muttered, squeezing him tight.

“I know,” he replied, his voice filled with understanding.

You two stayed like that for 15 minutes, giving you enough time to take some deep breaths and enjoy being embraced by your boyfriend. Somewhere along the line you allowed him to join you in your mound of blanket after he asked you with those beautiful brown puppy dog eyes of his.

“It’s so loud… and it’s not stopping anytime soon.”

“Well, I got you something. Wait here.”

You lifted your head off his shoulder and protested, “No, please stay.”

“I promise it’ll be okay. I’ll be right back. It’s just on my dresser,” he said, pointing to the furniture item that was only a few feet away.

*BOOM*

You shut your eyes tight, taking another deep breath before letting him go. Peter rushed to the dresser and grabbed all the stuff, then returned to you and closed the closet door. With a pull of the switch on the ceiling, he lit the closet with the soft glow of the lightbulb before settling down.

“This is your favorite drink, um… well half of it,” he said sheepishly, handing you the nearly empty beverage.

“Peter…”

“And I got you your favorite food. It might be cold now though, do you want me to microwave it?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“And I got you–”

“Peter, stop.”

He froze, sensing the seriousness in your voice. “Is something wrong?”

*BOOM*

You winced at the sound, but remained strong. “Aside from the constant explosions… yes. I appreciate you going out of your way to get me my favorite things. I’m thankful, really.”

Your eyes went toward the floor, your nerves getting the best of you. Peter placed his hand on top of yours. “It’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You were late. And I really needed you here. You broke your promise to me,” you expressed with a tinge of disappointment.

“I know and I feel awful about it. I just wanted this night to go perfect for you. I wanted to impress you,” he explained sincerely.

Your head snapped up, surprise and affection in your eyes. “Impress me? You don’t need to impress me.”

“I don’t?”

“No. I’m impressed by you everyday. You’re sweet, thoughtful, so unbelievably smart, and…” you trailed off once you noticed how wide Peter’s grin kept growing.

“And~?” he prodded, his eyes sparkling.

“Cheeky. Irresponsible. Late,” you teased, unable to contain your laughter. His smile faltered, but you quickly reassured him. “Thank you for going out of your way to get my favorite things. But you forgot the most important one.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he held his hand rested on his head in a thoughtful thinking pose. What could he have forgotten?

“Oh! Wait! Here’s the last thing I got you.”

He whipped out a pair of headphones that had been hiding behind him. “I made these with Mr. Stark. They’re noise-canceling headphones, so you won’t be able to hear the fireworks. They have a 100% success rate while most store-bought ones only work 99% of the time (how is that any more impressive, you thought, laughing on the inside at his nerdy rambling). You won’t be able to hear anything. You can play music or call me and other cool features. And I made it your favorite color! Here.”

He carefully placed the headphones on your head and you couldn’t help but admire his concentrated face and how delicate he was with you. It made your heart beat faster, and above all, it made you feel safe. That's all you had ever wanted.

“Can you hear me?” Peter asked, his lips moving while you tried to read them. You shook your head. He was always very expressive with his body, shouting “yes!” while doing a fist pump in response.

“But babe this isn’t my most favorite thing,” you exclaimed, not realizing you were shouting louder than you intended because of the headphones. Peter closed his eyes and covered his ears, prompting you to tilt your head in confusion. He opened one eye, a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re shouting!” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“I said you’re shouting,” he said, mimicking the motion of Pac-Man’s mouth with his hands.

“Oh~. My bad!” you said, still shouting. Peter chuckled at how cute you were before your words finally registered.

"Wait, what did I forget?" You kept your gaze fixed on him, and he realized he had to ask you again. "What's the thing I forgot that's your favorite?"

The way he acted out every word made you giggle because it was like a game of charades. “You! You’re my favorite thing in the world! That’s all I needed tonight!”

His face lit up with joy as he leaned in for a kiss. You closed your eyes as his warm, tender lips gently met yours, igniting a spark that traveled through your entire body. The kiss was gentle and sweet, ending with a soft smooching sound. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his smile matching your own.

“Well, since I’m your favorite I guess you don’t need this.” He reached into the to-go bag and stole a few fries, eating them without remorse right in front of you. Your jaw dropped in shock at the betrayal as you pulled away from him.

“Hey, those are mine!”

“But you said I’m your favorite!” You didn’t register what he said or even cared, trying to get the food back from him, but he lifted the bag high out of reach. You nearly climbed over his seated body, making him nearly choke on the fry out of laughter. In a surprising move, he somehow got past you and opened the closet door, darting to the living room. You chased after him around the kitchen before watching him hop over the couch like it was nothing.

“Peter Parker, I swear…” Your sharp eyes then noticed his backpack, which was partially open and what appeared to be a sleeve dangling off it. The vibrant red and blue colors made you squint as your mind pieced the clues together. Peter followed your gaze and his face grew panicked. “What is that?”

“What is what?” he said, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. Despite not you being able to hear, his face said it all. You went over to his backpack, but he snatched it and hid it behind his back.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Peter held his hand up in a stop motion when you tried to grab it from him. “D-Depends on what you think it is.”

You took off your headphones, unfazed when the last firework crackled in the distance.

*BOOM*

“You’re Spider-Man.”

Peter scrambled to think about what to say next. “W-Well, Aunt May isn’t here. She-She’s Spider-Man. It’s hers.”

“Then why is there a suit in your bag?”

“I’m just her glorified sidekick Spider-Boy!” he spewed out frantically.

“But May’s watching the fireworks with Happy,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait, they're dating? Aunt May and Happy? Wow, that's... unexpected. Gotta admit, I'm a bit out of the loop on this one."

“Don’t change the subject!”

He used his free hand to snatch the headphones back from your grasp and dramatically placed them on his head.

“Oh no, babe. I can’t hear anything you’re saying. Wow, these work really well, I can’t even hear myself. Hello~, hello~?”

God, you wanted to kill him and kiss him all at once. You grabbed the nearest non-threatening weapon and Peter started to scream.

“NOT THE BANANAS!”

*BOOM*

Thank you for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts, feel free to shoot me an ask or comment in a reblog. 💞

#peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker #peter parker fluff #my writing #peter parker imagine #peter parker x oc #peter parker blurb #sparkles and surprises

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asmallpinkfan3 · 1 year

Note

Death x gn reader whos the god of dreams pls im just imagining the two of them meeting when death comes to reap a sleeping person and reader is there giving them dreams before their final moments

That’s would be so cool to see before you die man. Also I like to imagine after the string of life is cut that the soul leaves the body and walks with him into the after life.

Death meeting GN! Reader who is the god of dreams.

Warnings: character death, child death,

I love this gif^

Being the god of dreams was a pretty cool job for you. I mean you get to give people dreams right before they went to sleep so you enjoyed it.

One summer night you were tending to a child who was very I’ll and giving her sweet dreams of anything she had ever wanted but unfortunately couldn’t have. The dream you gave her was a sweet one, it was her riding a horse you overheard her talking to her mother about how she wanted a horse but her mother told her In a sad tone that she couldn’t afford one.

Your hand brushed the child’s hair, a small bit of wind suddenly blew her hair just a bit to the side. You turned to the open window and you saw a very tall wolf.

“Who are you”? You asked in a quiet voice trying not to wake the girl up. He looked confused, you could see him? “How are you able to see me”? He asked an eyebrow raised. “Unless you are another god of some sort I don’t see why I shouldn’t see you”. You told him looking back at the sleeping girl. “I’m not a god, I’m death”. You looked up at him suddenly realizing why he might be here and you pulled your hand away from the child.

“Do you have to collect her soul”? You asked a sad tone, you cared for the girl since she lived near you and before she got sick she would always come over to your house and tell you about what she wanted to be when she got older. He nodded, “let me give her one last thing before you take her”. You said placing your hand back onto her head he nodded wondering what you were gonna do.

A cloud appeared above her head showing the girl in her dream, healthy and running with her dogs in a nice open field her face was not pale but a rich color with the sun shining onto her face a big giant smile. You smiled at the small smile tugging onto her lips from the dream. Keeping the hand there death walked closer, pulling out his sickles he grabbed the string that kept her life attached it was weak.

He cut the string and she slowly stopped breathing the smile still staying in place on her body. Her soul slowly arises from her body and her eyes awoke as she climbed out of her bed confused on why she could see her self, a wolf and you. “Hi y/n”! She said with a smile happy to see you.

She turned back to the wolf and smiled up at him,”hi mr wolf”! Looking down at the girl he bent down and asked if she would like to go with him. “She nodded happily, “y/n come on”! She called out before taking his paw in her small hand you got up from her bed and climbed out of her window. She reached for your hand now walking off.

A little while later you saw an entrance with a bright beam, this must be the where the souls go before after they die. “Y/n are yo coming”? She asked, “no they can’t come in”. Death answered she turned back to you and frowned. “Bye y/n”! She yelled walking inside the light. You smiled back at her and yelled back. “Bye rose”!

A couple minutes late death walked out, “you mentioned earlier about you being able to see other gods how can you see them”? He asked taking a walk with you. “I’m the god of dreams muerte I was giving her a dream right before you showed up”. You told him. He looked down at you, “that must be a nice job”. He said with a small smile. “It is really nice”.

#puss in boots death x reader #pib the last wish #puss in boots death #death puss in boots x reader #death x reader

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ninchen1909 · 1 year

Text

The Teacher and the Mob Boss

Pairing: Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Very short mention of an traumatic childhood

I'm froom Germany so please excuse my English an possible mistakes.

enjoy:)

With a deep breath I turn off the engine of my car, let my forehead sink against the steering wheel and close my eyes. I struggle with the need to simply drive home again and snuggle into my bed, which I had to leave far too early this morning. But since I have to finance my love of food, wine and Netflix somehow, I quickly dismiss these thoughts and reluctantly open the car door to get out.

Immediately, the cool September air surrounds me and makes me shiver, in small but steady steps mother nature heralds the autumn and makes the trees that surround the school shine in the most colorful colors.

After grabbing my work bag and locking my car, I walk across the already well-filled school parking lot towards the main entrance. As I have done so many times before, I take the direct route to my classroom and unlock the door, which I immediately let fall back into the lock behind me so that I can enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while longer. I have already done most of the preparations during the holydays, so now I only have to wait for my 2nd graders,to greet them.

I'm just picturing the new school year in my mind when the door to my classroom is yanked open and my colleague is standing in front of me with her eyes wide open, clutching a single piece of paper in her left hand while still holding the doorknob with her right. Her chest rises rapidly and she is audibly out of breath.

I raise an eyebrow questioningly, "Good morning Wanda, is this your new way of early morning exercise?" I grin at her, however this is not reciprocated by her.

"How can you please be in such a good mood?", uncomprehending I look at her, with a shrug of my shoulders I let her know that I have no idea what she means. Wordlessly she hands me the paper.

"This is my class list, I already went through it during the holydays." I look at Wanda over the edge of the paper, her breathing has calmed down by now, but her eyes still look at me uncomprehendingly and also a bit pitifully.

"(y/n) you should read through the letter "B" again more carefully.", I let my eyes glide over the relevant place and indeed, there is a name there that I haven’t read before.

"Charlotte Barnes?", I draw my eyebrows together.

"She was enrolled during the vacations, and her father went to see the principal himself for this."

"Since when does Mr. Stark let parents interfere with his free time? And why are you making such a drama over a new kid?"

"We're talking about Barnes (y/n), James Barnes, Charlotte is his daughter, Barnes daughter will be going to this school, your class to be exact. James Barnes is the biggest ma..." The shrill ringing of the school bell snaps us out of our conversation, I jump up from my chair and rush to the door to greet my students. I look expectantly at Wanda and ask her to leave with a wave of my hand

"(y/n) please listen to m.."

"Wanda not now, I have to greet my students, we will talk later." It is clear to see that Wanda does not like this suggestion, however, she reluctantly leaves my classrooms. After I greet all my students and everyone has found a seat, I go through the attendance list, only to notice that one child is missing."

"Do any of you happen to know where Charlotte Barnes is?" no sooner do I finish this sentence than the door to my classroom is yanked open for the second time that day. Standing in the doorway is a tall, broad built man with ice blue eyes and dark blonde hair, in total contrast to him is a small, petite girl standing in front of him holding the straps of her "Paw Patrol" backpack tightly in her hands, she gives me a bright smile that reveals a gap in her teeth. With firm steps she approaches me and extends a hand "Hi, my name is Charlotte, sorry we're late but Uncle Stevie took too long to do my hair." I get down to her eye level, look briefly at her admittedly rather crooked braids and smile at her "Good morning Charlotte, my name is Mrs. (y/l/n), glad you're here, would you like to go ahead and find a seat." the little girl nods, beaming, and goes to find an empty seat.

"Mrs. (y/l/n) could I speak to you for a moment." "Uncle Stevie" nods his head towards the hallway, at my slight nod, he disappears towards the hallway

"Kids I'll be right back with you, you can talk quietly with each other for so long." No sooner have I spoken than the kids start whispering to each other about their vacation, I on the other hand follow "Uncle Stevie" out into the hallway.

"Mrs. (y/l/n), my name is Steve Rogers and I'm really sorry we were late, I just really don't have much practice with hair clips, usually her dad does her hair, he just had some urgent business to take care of."

"Mr. Rogers, as long as this tardiness was a one-time thing, it's really not a problem, however, I have to admit that it's very unusual for a child to not be brought by their parents on their first day at a new school, if they are still in the child's life."

"Believe me, her father would have loved to bring her, however, he really had to make this appointment urgently." Mr. Rogers takes a step toward me and eyes me appraisingly.

"I understand, however, in my opinion, work should never come before one's child, now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my class."

Without waiting for a proper response, I give him a curt nod, turn and walk back to my classroom. As I stand in front of my class, I briefly gather my thoughts and try to banish the emerging images from my childhood back into the last cells of my consciousness, where they have been tucked away as best I can for years. Afterwards, I put on my best, if not most honest, smile for my class and begin the lesson.

The school day ends faster than I'd like and before I know it, I'm saying goodbye to my students and handing them over to their parents or the bus drivers.

Now it's just Charlotte and me standing in front of the school waiting for "Uncle Stevie" who’s going to pick Charlotte up.

Just as she is about to tell me her favorite dogs from "Paw Patrol", she interrupts herself with a loud "Papa" and rushes towards a tall man, who takes her in his arms, beaming with joy, and hugs her tightly. Slowly, I walk in their direction so as not to interrupt their greeting. When I finally stand in front of them, Charlotte grins at me and introduces me to her father: "Papa, this is Mrs. (y/l/n), she's my teacher and really nice." He takes note of this information with a grumbling "mhm" and grins at me before turning his attention back to his daughter, "Monkey, will you wait for me in the car, I'd like to talk to Mrs. (y/l/n) for a minute." He then holds the door of a white shiny Mercedes open for her to, which for some reason I hadn't noticed before, and helps her to fasten her seatbelt, when he has turned his back to me I start to examine him, in size and muscle mass he is in no way inferior to Mr. Rogers, his hair is cut short and only single strands of his brown hair hang down into his face. His steel-blue eyes are accentuated even more by his dark-blue designer suit, so that one could sink into it. I am able to escape my thoughts just in time as he carefully slams the door to his car, in which Charlotte is apparently engrossed in a radio play. He gives me a wry smile and extends his hand to me, "Hello Mrs. (y/l/n), my name is James Barnes, am Charlie's father, I thought I'd introduce myself since I learned through Steve that you think it's inappropriate for parents not to be present on the first day of school." Surprised, I look at his face, where a smug grin forms. Before I can answer him, he circles his car and opens the door, but before he gets in, he calls out to me, "It was nice to meet you, I'm sure we'll see more of each other." Puzzled, I look after the car as it drives away. My stupor doesn't last long, however, because shortly afterwards I feel someone approach me.

"I see you've met Mr. Barnes." Wanda looks at me auspicious, as if I've just revealed a huge secret, yet I can also see a spark of concern flashing in her green eyes.

"Yes I did, and I can tell you, I'm not a fan of him." I cross my arms in front of my chest and turn to her "he's arrogant and smug" a disdainful snort escapes me as my gaze settles back on the spot where his car was just a few minutes ago.

"(y/n), you should really be careful with him and not give him a reason to get angry." she gently places her hands on my folded arms, a silent plea to look her in the face.

"Why would I do that, I'm not going to treat him any different than any other parent, just because he walks around here in designer suits and whizzes by in luxury cars doesn't make him any better. Who does he think he is anyway."

"He's the biggest and most dangerous mob boss in our country, that's who he is."

And with this sentence from Wanda, the air gets stuck in my throat, and I look at her with eyes widened in terror.

#mob au #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #Buck Barnes x Reader #Mob boss bucky #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #mob bucky au

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lil-pine-mha-drabbles · 10 months

Text

Knight!Bakugou x Chubby!reader part 5

Jeepers. I was stumped this last year. Sorry you had to wait so long. But I’m not dead (no matter how much I used to want otherwise)

So here you go, saplings!!

<- chapter 4

There are 1297 words to read below the line!!

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Spirits were high after the picnic. Word had slipped from Eijiro to one of his sisters and the whole household was in an uproar of pleasantries when you returned home.

“I’m so excited for your wedding, Y/n! I think I should like to be the flower girl very much!” The youngest Kirishima held her little wooden pony to her chest dreamily, dancing all around the hope chest. You chuckled at her antics, continuing your embroidery, swaying gently in the wooden rocking chair.

Mrs. Kirishima asked for some of her own embroidered towels and you quickly agreed, perhaps to pay the Kirishimas back in any way possible. The stack of finished towels was cut short as you handed the old woman her new cloth pile. “Thank you, my dear. Having you in our home has been such a blessing.” Her hand was warm and her smile warmer.

“Thank you. You have no idea what a blessing being here has been. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” You placed your hand on hers with a pleasant smile.

Thumping in the next room drew your attention away from your wonderful aunt. Eijiro walked to the threshold of the room in his full armor with sweat dripping down his brow. “You need to come with me.” His eyes were cold and his voice, firm.

You stood suddenly, your skirts wrapping around your legs with every quick step. “What’s going on?” Panic filled your veins and your eyes danced over all the Kirishima girls huddled around the table with worried expressions and hurried whispers filling the air.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” your cousin—always a gentleman—opened the door to let you through.

The cool of the day before had passed and the air was wiggling in the heat, and dust blew through the streets. You understood why Eijiro was sweating so much when he entered in a hurry.

You were glad you had worn a short sleeved top. But having pants and a skirt, you were burning up. “So what’s going on??” You were almost running, trying to keep up with Ei’s fast pace.

“Bakugou’s been badly injured and King Deku asked for you. I don’t exactly know why the king wants you there but I was going to fetch you anyway when Katsuki got hurt.” His gaze stayed straight ahead. So you did the same.

The castle’s guard entrance was quickly growing as you got closer. The large black oak doors creaked open after a few shouts were exchanged between Eijiro and the guard on duty in the tower above you.

The medic tent was closer to the center of the guards’ courtyard. Eijiro held open the tents flap for you as you stepped inside.

Cots lined the walls, small bedside tables no larger then a foot wide were placed between each bed. Only two young nurses walked between the cots.

Katsuki was the farthest from the entrance, his expression pained as a short man chatted enthusiastically to him, the chair he was on creaking with every movement of his flailing arms.

You squeezed past the two nurses easily, Eijiro had a harder time with his armor taking up a lot of space. It also didn’t help that one of the nurses was making eyes at your cousin which caused him to falter briefly.

Katsuki looked up at you when you got closer. You couldn’t read his expression but you assumed it was annoyance with a hint of gratitude due to your appearance shutting up the green haired man.

Eijiro appeared next to you and bowed, nudging your elbow to do the same. You curtsied politely, not knowing who the smaller man was.

“You must be Kachan’s fiancé!!” The man’s face lit up as he took your hand and kissed you knuckles out of courtesy. “I haven’t heard much about you from him, but Kirishima certainly has some nice things to say about his favorite cousin!”

You smiled politely, folding your hands in front of you, glad you had wiped your face with your handkerchief before you entered the medical tent. “I just so happen to be his only cousin.” You chuckle and tilt your head.

“I do apologize,” the man bowed lowly, “I am King Izuku Midoriya. You may call me Midoriya, or Deku if you’d like!” He smiled brightly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir.” You curtsied again and bowed your head. You told him you name in a gentle tone, but your eyes were on Katsuki. His gaze was focused on you. His eyebrow raising he lifted his arm and gave a slight wave.

King Midoriya talked for quite awhile while you tried not to giggle watching your fiancé mock his words, mouthing everything the king said, perfectly lip syncing every word.

“—and then I realized I had never actually met you, so I asked Sir Kirishima to kindly fetch you. While it’s not favorable that he was hurt, I’m glad I remembered to ask for you because of it—“ the poor man just didn’t know when to shut his mouth.

“Deku. You’re boring her. You met her—good for you—now get out so I can talk to my fiancé in peace.” Bakugou groaned as he shoved off the thin sheet covering his thighs.

Izuku looked surprised, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “Oh!! Of course! I am so sorry! I was so caught up in telling my story I completely missed the fact that you were tryin—“

“Shut up! Get out!” Katsuki closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine.

“Right!” He turned and walked out with Eijiro.

You took King Deku’s seat cautiously watching Katsuki sigh roughly and sit up.

“That was pretty harsh.” You leaned back.

“Yeah well, the guy doesn’t know when he’s being too much.” He smirked slightly and twiddled with the sheet.

“So how badly were you hurt?” You tried to act unconcerned.

“I actually got a taste of my own medicine,” he chuckled, “remember when I kicked you in the ribs?”

You winced at the memory.

“Well I was gifted something very similar,” he gently peeled up his shirt to reveal a very blood soaked bandage over his chest. “Mina finally bested me.” His light laugh didn’t hold much humor in it. “She got me good right on the chest.”

“Does it still hurt?” You couldn’t hide your concern you had been trying to conceal the whole conversation.

“Oh yeah, but I’m sure I’ll heal up in a couple of days.”

You nodded slowly and twisted your fist into the fabric of your skirt.

“Did you enjoy the picnic?” He asked sheepishly.

“Yes. It was very pleasant. I appreciate your efforts to make this marriage as smooth as possible, Bakugou.” In the back of your mind you growled at yourself for using his last name. You knew you were just trying to distance yourself from your feelings. But you couldn’t become attached to this brut.

Katsuki’s smile dropped. “Yes. That was the purpose.” He looked at the canvas wall across the room.

“You should be cleared to leave for home, Sir Bakugou.” An old woman stepped close to the bed and placed and aged, shaking hand on your shoulder. “Stay out of trouble for a couple weeks. No training while you’re healing. Understand?” She asked firmly.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill—“

“Katsuki.”

“I—“ he sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and dropped his hand he had raised while waving off her warnings.

You smiled at his quick defeat, and helped him stand to his feet.

“I don’t want to see you back her for at least two weeks, Sir Bakugou.” The firm statement was waved off by the blonde who let himself use you as a crutch.

—————————

Taglist!

@katsukichu @axidthot @darlingely @totally-not-bakus-hoe

@arminlator @sad0ni0n @rebekah-trader @tjmaxx556 @ninashellhole @awkardnerd

@buzzyboi79 @angrypomerainian

@ookoobshoob @iwa-chan-akaashi-san

@backgroundgirl887 @buzzyboi79

@some-ryvant

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unmaskthewriter · 6 months

Text

Home {Charles Smith x Native!Reader}

A/N: This story went through so many ideas. I couldn’t decide, especially because I just feel like my writing isn’t good enough right now, especially bc I try to keep my writing short bc I am not creative enough for long stories and I’m stretching for ideas because I love to write. Thinking about taking requests. Also reader is gender neutral. Might edit this to be an OC fic later on. Also I apologize if this is a little OOC. It’s my first time writing for Charles.

Warnings: canon typical violence, fluff, angst, mourning/grieving, canon character death

Word Count: 1.8k

1899

You met him one afternoon when he entered the reservation to speak with your father and brother. He was a dark skinned man with a long, black braid down the center of his scalp, ending towards the middle of his back. You were sitting alongside your father.

“Father, when will we draw the line? They’ve stolen our horses, they attack our women—“ Eagles Flies ranted.

“Enough, son. We can have our horses returned without fighting.” Rains Fall tried to dissuade his son. You made eye contact with the strange man.

“Rains Fall is right. I will not start a fight over some horses.” He spoke firmly. Eagle Flies lets out a frustrated sigh, storming from the tent. You quickly follow, witnessing through the flaps of the tent as Eagle Flies mounts the strange man’s horse and rides off into the night.

“He stole your horse.” You state plainly, a small smirk playing at your lips.

“My child, please take Charles Smith and find your brother. He is running toward a dangerous situation.” Rains Fall explains from across the tent. So, Charles is his name.

“I know, Father.” You nod and lead Charles to the hitching posts. In front of you stood a tall, warped brindle Arabian.

“Kiona.” You spoke softly, drawing a carrot from your satchel and feeding her. Quickly mountain, Charles mounts behind you.

“A beautiful horse.” He compliments as you follow the trail out of the reservation.

“Found her just outside the reservation. Tamed her myself.” You smile, lightly gripping the reins. Silence passes.

“What do you think about living here… on the reservation, I mean?” He questions.

“It’s not terrible… but my people have suffered. If I could help them escape, I would but with the U.S Army breathing down our necks, it’s impossible,” You respond, “My brother has good intentions, he just… doesn’t always think things through… why don’t you tell me about yourself, Mr. Smith?”

“I know a few men like that,” Charles chuckled, “and please, call me Charles. Mr. Smith is my father. My mother was Indian, and my father a black man. We lived with her people for some time, until one day, some men took her and never came back… my father was never the same after that.”

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond quietly, a frown tearing at the edges of your lips. Up ahead, Charles spotted his horse on the edge of a camp. After reuniting with Eagle Flies in the camp that Charles and his friends inhabited, your brother gathered a small party to reclaim the stolen horses.

“Arthur, we must go with them… to try to stop things from getting… out of hand.”

“I guess… come along. We can get them more horses.” The older man, Arthur, agreed. Charles turned to you, placing a hand to your shoulder.

“Please, return to your father. We will get the horses back.” Charles reassures you.

“Do not worry about the horses, just bring my brother home safe.”

“I promise.” Charles nods to you before mounting his horse and following the others into the night. You did as Charles had asked, and waited at the reservation for the return of your brother.

Hours passed before you witnessed Eagles Flies, Paytah and Charles leading the horses back into the reservation. Rains Fall watches from the entrance of his tent as you approach the group.

“Don’t run off like that again.” You tell Eagles Flies as you wrap your arms around his slender frame. He chuckles, returning the hug.

“Do not worry about me, little one. I am the one who has to protect you.” He spoke softly before pulling away and walking towards your father. You looked at Charles who stood back a few feet. He mounts his horse as you approach.

“Thank you, Charles… for bringing my brother back safely. I’m… my people are indebted to you.” You declare, gently taking his hand. He squeezes it gently before pulling away and leaving.

You should have expected the U.S Army would retaliate.

They came in the night under the cover of darkness, capturing young men and women of the tribe, you amongst them. With a sack pulled over your head and hands and feet bound with tight rope, you couldn’t see or move. All you could feel was the butt of the gun smashing against your head and knocking you unconscious.

For hours, you drift to and from unconsciousness. The sack had been removed from your head, but you were still bound, suspended from the ceiling. Occasionally, soldiers would come and land a few punches and kicks, trying to elicit a response before giving up.

It wasn’t long before you could hear shouting and… gunfire? You hang there, looking around drearily. One of your eyes was swollen shut, bottom lip busted and bruises littering your frame.

“They’re in here!” A familiar voice shouted and weakly you lifted your head to see Charles breaking the lock on the door. He rushes to your side, carefully cutting the ropes to release you. Swiftly, you fell to the ground with a small groan.

“I’m sorry, come on. Are you alright to walk?”

“… ‘m fine.. where’s my brother?” You asked as Charles wrapped an arm around you and helped you to walk.

“Don’t worry, Arthur has him… come on, let’s get out of here.” He encourages you, mounting his horse and carefully lifting you up. You sit behind him, slumped against him. A gunfight ensues during the escape, but you’re too tired and weak to care.

“Alright, we’re at the river. Let’s get you in a canoe.” His sweet voice explains to you, carefully lifting you from the horse and placing you down in the canoe. You laid back against the seat, too tired to sit up.

“Are they okay?” A voice called out as you closed your eyes.

“We just need to-“

And you were out cold.

It was midday when you awoke, the sunlight bleeding in from the tent flaps. You look around slowly, noticing your bloody clothes had been removed, and replaced with a clean tanned leather dress. Underneath, you were bandaged. You could barely see from your left eye, and upon licking your lips you tasted old blood.

“You’re awake.” Charles entered the tent, kneeling down beside you.

“How long was I out?” You ask, gently rubbing your temple as you sit up. He extends a cup of water, to which you graciously accept.

“Half a day. You were beaten up pretty bad. Eagle Flies is okay, he’s recovering.” Charles answered any questions you’d have. You relax slightly as you drink the water he provided. A moment passes between you both.

“Eagle Flies will not let this go, Charles.” You tell him, setting the cup down on the small nightstand.

“I know, I know… just rest now. It’ll be alright.” He comforts you as you lay back down on the bed to rest and recover.

Days had passed before you and Eagle Flies had recovered from your wounds. You returned to your duties, helping the sick and elderly. It wasn’t long before Eagle Flies demanded justice for those who were hurt by the U.S Army.

“Today, we ride! No longer will we be abused and killed by the Army, for sport, for oil!” He shouted, leading a small war party from camp. You watched as father looked on with a frown before mounting his own horse, and following.

It was a quiet day within the reservation. Eagle Flies had fled with some of the brave warriors of the tribe to strike the heart of the tribe’s issues — Cornwall Kerosene and Tar.

He’s your brother, although sometimes it doesn’t feel as though that’s the case. While he was brave and headstrong, you were more calm and peaceful like your father.

With the galloping of hooves outside, you and your father emerge from the tent. Arthur, pale and sickly, dismounts his horse while Charles follows, carefully helping Eagle Flies down from the horse. You take a small step forward, frowning.

“Bring him to me.” Your father commanded, watching as your brother was transported to the small enclosure. You follow, sitting down beside your father as the men carefully place Eagle Flies down. Rains Fall takes hold of his son’s hand as you place a gentle hand to your brother’s cheek. Tears begin to roll.

“My son.” Rains Fall whispered as his son took his final breath. You sobbed, leaning over your brother’s body. Arthur and Charles left the tent, speaking amongst themselves for a moment.

“I’m sorry, but we must pack and move…”

1907

With the changing of the seasons and the passing of the years, you grew into a young adult. It was shortly after the tribe’s arrival in Canada that Charles Smith left to return to his friends.

“Charles, please, wait!” You call out, following him to his horse. You pull something from your satchel, holding it out to him. It was a trinket adorned with a small moose antler with a coyote fang on one end, and a cougar fang on the other, “Take this.”

Charles carefully takes the trinket, examining the craftsmanship before looking at you, “Thank you. This is… amazing.”

“You are one of us.” You reassure him as he puts on the trinket, mounting his horse. He leans down, taking your hand and squeezing gently.

“Until we meet again.” He tells you before releasing your hand and riding off.

It didn’t take you much longer to leave as well, the pain of your brother’s loss being too much to bear. You wandered across the states, never staying in one place for too long. Your mind often wandered to all those years ago, the people you met, and the people you lost. No matter where you traveled, you always felt like something was missing, never feeling at home. Saint Denis was never your cup of tea, but it was a good place to gather supplies and clean up. The sound of a trumpet filled the streets between the random conversations throughout town and noises from the railroad you had overheard. You were standing outside the post office, sliding a letter over the desk.

“To Rains Fall in Canada,” You mention as you glance to your right for a moment. In the distance, two familiar men were crossing the cobblestones street to the docks. Quickly, you pay the man in the window before leading Kiona to the men.

“Charles?” You called out softly, slowly releasing Kiona’s reins. He stopped, and turned on his heel to face you. He looked different — his hair was no longer shaved and braided but instead splayed freely around his shoulders. He wore a collared shirt and vest that had seen better days. There were some bruises and scarring to his face and knuckles but he was still the man you met all those years ago. Before you knew it, you both were running toward each other to embrace. He lifts you into his arms, taking a slow, deep breath.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” You cry quietly, remembering all too well the day he left.

“I’m here now.” He spoke softly into your neck, his hot breath hitting your soft skin.

Home wasn’t with the tribe. Home didn’t have four walls and a roof. Home was in his arms, you knew that now.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption #charles smith #charles smith x reader #john marston #dutch van der linde #rdr2 spoilers

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writingrenna · 10 months

Text

"Learn to Love" (Pt. 1)

Jacq x GN!Reader

You finally catch the Capsakid that likes to bully you, but he doesn't listen, so you go to the world-renowned Jacq for some advice.

Also, you're also a shy nerd that draws in your free time so THIS IS THE FIRST FANFIC WITH ART ACCOMPANYING IT BAYBEEEEE--

If the lore seems fake, it's because it sorta is, but it's based on actual lore, if that makes sense?? I'm pretending the games aren't games basically, I'd S C R E A M if someone said my dog was on "Level 5", lmao

Tone/Ending: Frustrating, Hopeful

Warnings (for the whole fic): It's implied Capsakid directly attacked you before this, then he bullies you for a while, causing you to get frustrated by him and your lack of progress for a bit. You also risk your life and get really depressed at one point. You cry during the first half-ish, a bit more than intended

Word Count: 5,000-ish?

_\V/_

You're running down the hallway, hands behind your back, not caring about the eyes on you as you do so. You had an important question to ask the resident biology teacher about a little... situation of yours. It was the first day of summer classes, which you had enrolled in at basically the very last second in a desperate bid to solve your problem.

You make it to the door, classroom 1-A. You don't even bother knocking, striding right into your homeroom class 45 minutes early so you'd have a better chance at talking one-on-one.

"Mr. Jacq!"

The man chokes on his coffee, having been startled by your abrupt entrance.

"Eh-" he coughs, putting the coffee mug down and hitting his chest. You give him a moment, adrenaline flushing out your body as his reaction grounds you.

"...sorry..." you say rather meekly.

He makes a flapping gesture with his hand to dissuade you.

"Nono, not to worry, I-"

He clears his throat one last time.

"...just..." He coughs, getting the last bit of spluttering out of his system. "...wasn't expecting anyone yet..."

He sits up, looking at you.

"You are..." He squints and says the first name on his mind, and you nod, confirming it. He seems relieved to have remembered your name and face from orientation.

"So! How may I assist you this fine morning?"

You're suddenly nervous for some reason. You almost forgot why you came in with such a fiery passion, but then-

"Oh, right! I caught my first ever Pokémon two months ago. Problem is-- it's kind of a jerk."

He snorts.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! Look at this thing!"

You pull your arm from behind your back before he could really respond, showing him a Capsakid silently staring out into space. At first, neither of you say a word, but after a few moments, Jacq gets curious.

"Wh-why is it like this? Did something happen?"

"No? It's just been like this lately. I don't know if this is better or worse than what it was like before, though."

He looks up at you.

"What was it like before?"

You grumble, remembering the start of your rivalry.

"Well, before, whenever I left the city to go towards Porto Marinada, it'd run up and attack me! Now, it doesn't really attack me anymore, it just doesn't listen..."

Jacq nods, looking the little bud directly in the eyes. Capsakid seemed to be staring right through him as if in deep thought, not making a peep. It takes him a moment, but he realizes something.

"Wait, you caught it near Cascarrafa, right? In the Asado Desert?"

"Yeah?"

"Aaand this is your very first Pokémon, right?"

"...yeah?"

He looks away from you, unsure of how to say this.

"Well, uh..."

He looks up to meet your eyes.

"...I... I don't think it respects you yet."

"WHAT!?" You reel back, Capsakid still in-hand.

He winces.

"I'm sorry. You need to get a bit more experienced first, maybe train up a weaker Pokémon or two so it can watch you get better? Pokémon in that area are fairly strong, they need the right kind of trainer to tame them. It'll be harder for beginners to get through to them."

He waits for your response. You haven't made a move yet, still holding Capsakid, who looks to be falling asleep. You grunt, shaking your head a bit before finally saying something.

"Ugh, fine.

He smiles. Meekly, but he still smiles.

"Great! I'm rooting for you, I hope to see you two getting along this semester..."

You nod, defeated, walking out of class, Capsakid still in-hand.

_\V/_

It was lunch time. You made your way outside, placing the Capsakid down in the grass, where it immediately started running around. You were sitting in the shade so it could refuel in the sunshine as you ate. You pull out an apple slice.

"Hey, Kid!"

The Capsakid continues to spin around, as if it didn't hear you. You know it did, however, as it quite obviously smirked when it noticed you. You grumble.

"Hey, your loss!"

It continues to bask in the sun as you angrily munch on your sandwich, glaring at it.

You don't notice the pair of eyes on you.

"Hello, hello, there!"

You turn to the man, who looked to feel bad about your predicament.

"Hm?"

He walks over to you, looking at Capsakid.

"Looks like it's enjoying itself..." he comments absent-mindedly.

You nod.

"I guess so..."

He looks down at you, then back up at Capsakid.

"Hey, if you want to feed it, do this."

He gets a Poké Block out of a little container in his pocket before holding it up.

"Hey, Capsakid!"

It stops, turning toward him.

"This is for you, eat it when you want to, okay?"

He places it a little ways away from you on a napkin. Capsakid watches his every move before looking up at him... and then going right back to running around.

"See??"

"Nono, that was the point. It'll come to you when it's ready, and it will most likely keep its distance. Buuut, it'll still eat if it's hungry, and probably even appreciate you letting it have its space."

You look at Jacq, before looking over at Capsakid, who doesn't look to be done quite yet. You decide to trust his word, though.

"...okay..."

He grins.

"There ya go, patience is key here. I know you'll do great."

You can't help but doubt him, but you take what he says to heart.

_\V/_

Classes were over, and you were at the library. Capsakid was watching you read a book on Pokémon obedience. Sighing, you look over to it, and it looks at you... and smirks. You grumble.

"Yeah, I don't think this book will work for you, you're a strange one for sure..."

It just giggles at you. It was melodic, even vaguely familiar, but you were too preoccupied by its audacity to think about it. You snap the book closed, causing it to jump a little.

"A'ight! I think it's about time we head to our dorms."

You get up, making your way over to the shelf you got the book from. Capsakid watches you again as you struggle to push the row of books back to slide it in. You grunt, but you manage, sighing and turning to the juvenile (and you do mean juvenile) spicy pepper.

"Ya ready?"

It blinks, not giving an answer. You simply walk over and grab him, but not before thinking of something.

"...y'know, the school store might have something that can help us."

Capsakid tilts its head as you commit to this little change of course.

_\V/_

"MR. JAAAAACQ!!"

You run into the biology room, catching him off-guard as he was studying the terrarium he kept at the back of the classroom.

"Wha-"

"It's doing it again!"

You hold Capsakid out to him, who was staring out into space like that first morning before classes started. Jacq looks at it.

"...uh-huh... what did you do right before this started?"

"I-I dunno! We were watching a movie in my dorm, and it wasn't paying attention because it was eating a snack! I thou-"

"A snack," he mumbles to himself. You pause your explanation, looking at him. He continues, turning to you.

"What was it?"

"A Poké Bean?"

His eyes light up.

"OHHHHH! That explains it."

"Huh?" You don't know what he means.

"You gave it a bean, those usually endear people to Pokémon because they start to associate you with the good feelings they get while eating them. But with you, it feels conflicted, since it still doesn't respect you..."

You take in his answer... and it makes sense.

"Oh. So he just feels neutral instead of actually liking me more."

"Correct."

He looks at your defeated expression and solemnly smiles.

"I take it Capsakid ate a bean before you came in on the first day, too?"

You nod once. He huffs a little. Capsakid is just lazily relaxing in your hands, so he decides to do a little test.

"Hold it up to your face?"

"Eh? Okay..."

You do as you're told, holding Capsakid up and turning it around to look at your face. Jacq walks behind you to see it staring directly into your eyes, neutrality evident.

"Ah, yeah, see? It needs consistency. It wants to listen, it knows you're trying, but you don't have a commanding enough presence yet. It can tell you're unsure of yourself, but it still sees you, see?"

"It... sees me?" You move it to the side a little. It turns its head to keep staring at you, eyes widening a little. You aren't sure what this means.

"What do you mean?"

"Heh, it's easier to notice as you get to know it, but it sees who you are, and it wants to trust you enough to let you command it, but it needs to see that you know what you're dealing with."

You nod. You think you get it. Just get strong and keep being nice. You can do this, even though you've never trained a Pokémon before. You didn't even really help in training your mom's Dachsbun when you were growing up, but you'll still try.

You nod.

"Okay, I'll do my best."

He beams at you.

"Nice! I'm glad you're sticking by its side, even if it's a little f-frustrating..."

You nod at this, idly staring at the Pokémon in your hands. Guess this is it, no turning back now, lest you end up enrolled for absolutely no reason.

_\V/_

It's the end of Jacq's class. He had asked you to stay behind for a little bit, so here you were, poking Capsakid with the eraser side of your pencil to keep it from tearing your notes out. Jacq comes over, pulling a stool up on the other side of the table to study it.

"So, how have things been going?"

"Bad." Is all you say, keeping your eye on your little troublemaker.

He hums in response, looking at it too. He shoots it a stern yet gentle glare, so it plops down on the table, looking out at the posters near the door to seem occupied.

"Well, it's obvious it still causes mischief, but perhaps it's just in its nature," he adds while getting a good look at it. Getting a better, calm look is making him notice things about Capsakid he didn't before, but he can't be sure without a more thorough analysis.

Capsakid grunts, or at least, you think it does, as Jacq gently puts a finger on its head to see how it reacts. It's still able to move, so it turns its head to get a look at him, a surprised expression on its face. It intimidates you, seeing Jacq so effortlessly calm it down just by being there. Perhaps Capsakid can sense his strength? His ability to tame?

You hum, deep in thought, looking down at the table. You needed a game-plan, because it's quite obvious it won't trust your abilities more in any way but to show it how commanding you can be.

After a bit of silence (which you thankfully don't notice), you sit up.

"Jacq?"

You notice him quickly looking down when you bring your attention back to him, Capsakid looking at him curiously.

"Yes?"

"I think... I'm gonna go out for a few days, catch a weak Pokémon and start from the beginning. Have it watch me, even."

He nods, keeping his eyes trained on the tiny pepper.

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe this is the thing it needs to trust you."

You huff a little and simply say "Hopefully..."

_\V/_

"CAPSAKID, USE HEADBUTT!"

The little green baby, bless its heart, actually listened... until it decided to run away from the Pawmi about halfway there.

"WHAT THE-"

Capsakid runs before unceremoniously falling on its face. You stare for a second, not sure if you should go over and help when it sits its head up.

"...you good?"

It stands up on its own before running toward you. You don't move, watching it to see what it does. It just looks up at you.

"...um..."

The Pawmi isn't quite sure what to make of the situation, looking over at the little group of Pawmi she was once apart of before quickly turning back towards you two, still on-edge.

You grunt.

"Ok, use Headbutt!"

The Capsakid aims for Pawmi... before using Bullet Seed, the same attack it used on you whenever you entered the desert back home. Pawmi actually takes quite a thrashing, but it holds it together, shaking off the move and avoiding the next onslaught the best is can despite being fairly inexperienced. You take this moment of weakness as your chance to catch it, throwing the Pokéball at the creature and watching it shake... shake... shake... until...

She escapes?

"Oh no!"

Pawmi lets out a mighty cry before running over, using Thunder Shock on your partner. Capsakid tanks the hit with ease despite being quite a bit smaller than it... actually, why is it so small? They're usually about the same height...

You make a mental note to ask Jacq about that later.

"Capsakid, use..."

You get an idea.

"...Zen Headbutt?"

Capsakid perks up in recognition before simply swaying a little, closing its eyes and yawning.

Right, it seems to know Zen Headbutt. You had read somewhere that the Capsakid that live around the area you met may know that one.

You grunt, readying a Pokéball.

"Capsakid, use... um..."

Your hesitation makes Capsakid emit that same melodic little giggle. A villain in the making, really. You growl, trembling, looking up to yell out into the sky before turning your attention to Capsakid. Your shadow looms over the creature, words forceful and eyes showing a fury it hadn't seen before.

"CAPSAKID, USE BULLET SEED!"

It flinches instead, which causes you loosen your stance as the Pawmi uses this opportunity to Scratch it, quite badly, actually. You jump back, yelping in surprise and worry, but it shakes it off and throws a quick yet intense Bullet Seed her way, which seems to do the trick. You throw the Pokéball, and finally, you catch your second Pokémon.

"All right! Now we're moving!"

Capsakid turns around, staring up at you.

"Hey, you did great, Kid! C'mon, let's go back. It's getting dark, and you need a recharge."

You recall it before running to a Poké Center to heal your team members.

_\V/_

You run back to the academy, excited to settle in and start your new life tomorrow, a life with a new friend, and a life where Capsakid might actually listen to you.

You knock on Jacq's door, where you know he'll be lingering, probably with a coffee and a stack of papers. And you're right! He answers, a puzzled look on his face when he realizes you look like you just ran a marathon.

"Eh? You all right, there?"

"I went-" *Huff* "-to the place-" *Huff* "-down there, w-with th-" *Huff* "-the people-!"

He furrows an eyebrow, unsure of what you're trying to convey there as you continue to steady your breathing.

"I... see?"

You take a deep breath before perking up, breathing still a little haggard.

"Yeah! Here's my new Pokémon, Mimi!"

You let Pawmi out of its Pokéball, emitting a squeal as she materializes. She then looks around, eyes full of awe and wonder as she studies her surroundings. Jacq can't help but smile.

"Oh, great job! How'd catching it go?"

"Well, I uh... eventually Cap... kinda listened?"

He has a face that betrays the fact that he's a bit skeptical, but he's a professional, and he's there to listen and figure out what happened.

"Tell me, what do you mean by, uh, 'kinda'?"

You start to remember the fight, how it almost listened when you commanded it to use Headbutt, which it seems to have stopped using in favor of perfecting its slightly stronger alternative. How it didn't use the move you called out until...

...until...

Your eyes widen momentarily as you get a sinking feeling of guilt in your stomach. You were aggressive. It flinched. You didn't want it to be trained or raised fearing you, no matter how bad it can be. You just wanted to get along and grow closer.

Jacq notices the pained look on your face as it drastically falls. He puts a hand on your shoulder.

"It's okay, tell me what happened, I'll understand."

Your voice trembles a little.

"I-I-" you take a deep breath in through your nose, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Jacq goes from worried to mildly panicked, leaning in a little more.

"...I yelled... at it, I-"

You take in a few rapid breaths, guilt clawing at you with no end in sight. Jacq clears his throat a little before guiding you towards a chair in front of Pawmi, who was now sitting on a desk, looking rather excited for its new life amongst these weird lights.

Jacq kneels in front of you as you continue to try and hold back your tears, one arm hovering in front of your face.

"Okay, okay, it happens, even experienced trainers slip up sometimes, don't feel too bad..."

But it's too late. You shudder as the tears fall, a pitiful noise escaping your lips as you curl in on yourself a little.

"Bu-but, it's just a- a little guy-y-"

Jacq gently places a finger under your chin, lifting your head up as you sniffle and babble to yourself, staring off to the side and recalling how Capsakid flinched under you, which elicits a whimper. He's lost in the moment, not thinking about how bad this would look, even if you are an adult student. He just stares, your eyes now squeezed shut as you get sucked into your sorrow. It takes him a few moments for him to even remember where you two are, and when he does, the rest of the situation comes crashing back down on him. His eyes go wide and he reverts back to instructor mode.

"Okay, stay here."

He stands up and walks over to his desk, which is when you take the opportunity to turn and sob into the one in front of you. This catches Pawmi off-guard, who worriedly pats you on the head and squeaks, bending down to try and catch a glimpse of your face. He returns with what you assume are tissues. He pulls your arm a little so your body is facing his again, before kneeling like before, taking your hands in his and placing some on top of your hands.

"Remember this moment..." he begins, eyes closed and thumbs gently rubbing your hands over the tissues. "Remember, that you're trying, and sometimes you make mistakes. That the road is winding, and confusing, and sometimes, a path that brings you closer to the finish line might end up being a dead-end..."

You sniffle, finally cracking your eyes open and looking at the bunch of tissues.

"...but you're still trying, and improving despite it all, because for whatever reason deep in your heart, this is all worth the effort, the effort of even trying. What happens next is not the goal, this step right here is..."

And then it hits you. Why... are you trying? It's not like you HAD to keep Capsakid, you didn't need to dedicate your life to a troublemaker that got some sick joy out of tormenting you, watching you hesitate to leave the city and cackling with glee. You could've given it away, let it loose far away from you, kept it under your bed, even registered yourself a storage box using a PC and put it there until the end of time...

But for some reason, this made your stomach churn and left a bitter taste in your mouth. You even winced at this realization, face twisting into one of mild discomfort for even thinking it.

Capsakid, for whatever reason, didn't fight back when you caught it. You didn't even HAVE to fight it. You borrowed a Larvesta from a local rental service to accompany you to the pier, but you didn't need to use it, awkwardly hesitating to call out a move before deciding not to fight it at all, throwing the Pokéball and tempting fate.

And it worked. You assumed the wide-eyes it had as you threw it were of surprise, but now, your mind is saying something else was there as well. It almost immediately took to destroying your place, causing mayhem for you, and overall being a little menace.

But it stayed, for whatever reason. And you wanted to understand it, for yet another unknown reason.

Jacq notices the scowl on your face and grows worried. He leaves the tissues in your hands before gently, but firmly rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"Please... please don't give up on this little guy..."

Your eyes shoot open before looking puzzled, almost shocked he'd even ask that before realizing he doesn't know what you just went through internally. You shake your head.

"I won't."

He smiles, rather uncontrollably at that.

"Good."

_\V/_

You're yawning, barely holding it together as you stumble your way towards homeroom with a coffee from the Seabreeze Café. Capsakid strides ahead of you, a deadpan look on its face, although it seems to be smiling a little. Pawmi is sitting on your shoulder, holding on tight and looking around. Jacq walks out carrying a small stack of papers before spotting you, face lighting up and grinning.

"Ah, hello, hello, how are you today?"

You groan, eyes closed, leaning forward as if you're about to fall over. Mimi squeaks in surprise, eyes shooting open and tensing up before collecting herself.

"I think Cap has Insomnia. Like, actual insomnia," you start. "I wanted to spend time with it last night, but..."

You yawn as Cap simply gives up and walks into the classroom without you.

"I... I thought that meant it was only resistant to moves that put it to sleep, but... I guess it leaks out into day-to-day life, too?"

Jacq nods.

"That happens. In fact, it's perfectly normal, being the case more often than you'd think."

You nod, eyes still closed. You manage to force them open after squeezing them shut for a moment. When you do, Jacq has a fond smile on his face, trying to hold back a laugh. You flinch, not expecting to see him like this. He chuckles a bit.

"Ah, you should go inside. I'll be back after I make copies of this assignment, sooo, sit tight, all right?"

You yawn again, nodding before walking to your usual spot. Putting your head down, you felt sleep quickly overtake you, so you allow yourself to take a little nap.

_\V/_

A little while later, you hear Jacq's voice calling your name.

"Heyyyy... hello?"

You snort and sit up, drool on your face and eyes closed. As you wipe it away, you hear snickering. It's really close, so you open one eye a tad to see him looking down at you.

"-eh?"

He's sitting backwards in a chair, arms resting on the back of it and laying his head down, staring at you with an amused expression, a strange twinkle in his crinkled eyes. Or, maybe it's there because your vision is blurry...?

"Yoo-oou mumble in your sleeeep~" he said in a sing-songy voice.

You make a weird whimpering noise before sitting up some more.

"Yeah...?" you say, squeezing your eyes shut before shaking your head, blinking a few times to see better. It was as you were doing this that you realized--

"-CRAP!" You panic, looking around the room. This catches Jacq off-guard, but he quickly realized what was wrong when you looked under your desk.

"Oh, your Pokémon! They're both OK, we just had lunch."

You sigh with relief.

"Oh, thank gooooooooooo--"

You squint, processing the previous statement.

"...did I... sleep through like, half my classes...?"

He nods, leaning in again, bottom half of his face covered by his arm as he looks off to the side. His voice is muffled slightly, but you understand him.

"Mm-hmm, you just wouldn't wake up. But even if you were able to get up, I couldn't send you to class like that, so I let you stay in here..."

You grumble, sitting up.

"I... see..."

You stretch, face contorting a little as your eyebrows furrowed. Letting out a little yawn, you hunch over, eyes closed.

"Ok, now what? I gotta... get myself together, hold on-"

Jacq gives you a moment to figure out a game-game-plan as he pulls out his Rotom Phone.

You didn't know why missing class felt so bad. You were only here to learn how to raise Cap, and you guess Mimi now. Plus, your schedule was flexible to the point of it being comedic. Your heart really wasn't in your studies, but that wasn't the school's fault.

As you sit there, thinking to yourself, a man walks into the room. You don't think to open your eyes or look at whoever entered, but when you hear the familiar cries of your Pokémon, you turn to see Mr. Saguaro pointing in your direction. Mimi runs along his arm with a few happy little squeaks, hopping from table-to-table with Kid on her back, who jumps off at the desk directly next to yours as Mimi comes to nuzzle you.

"These little ones were certainly a handful, but I enjoyed making food small enough to accommodate them. It was..."

He looks off to the side, a thoughtful expression on his face before nodding with a smile.

"...adorable."

You nod, saying "I can imagine!" before thanking him for taking care of them, looking at your duo as he leaves. Mimi was rubbing on your arm, obviously happy despite how the day started, while Capsakid... is looking at you, mouth slightly tilted to the side as if realizing something.

"Eh?"

Jacq notices, too. Turning in the chair so he's facing Capsakid, he makes an observation.

"Hm, seems like it's thinking hard about something."

You turn to him.

"Huh? Like what? It just got here..."

He nods.

"True. It may be something already on its mind that's just starting to make sense."

You squint, leaning back.

"Wha-"

You look at Capsakid again, who's eyes seem to widen when you do. The little tilted frown on its face deepens, eyes now slightly furrowed, prompting you to frown as well, a little worried. Jacq turns toward you.

"I wouldn't worry about it, it doesn't seem to be stressed about anything, just pondering something. But if anything changes, be sure to take note of it, okay?"

You nod, still facing Capsakid, observing how it watches your response.

"Will do."

_\V/_

You grumble a little trying to come up with a route. Capsakid is eating a bit of potato tortilla, sitting on your desk and looking up at you as you study your map. You then turn to Pawmi.

She was resting under your window, taking in the sunlight like Capsakid would usually do. You look at the clock. It's almost time for you to head out and start your week-long training session.

Grabbing your bag and your empty belt, you give them a little warning.

"Ok, you two! 12 more minutes and we're out of here!"

Mimi seems to take what you said and decides to use this time to mentally prepare herself, nodding with a determined face. Capsakid, however, just keeps on munching, no change in energy or even a sign that it heard you. You aren't worried, but you feel a bit bummed starting off like this. You decide not to let this change anything, simply going to the man that's helped you the most so far.

You leave your Pokémon in the room, going to the biology room, where he's currently in-between classes. Giving the door a few good taps is what it takes to get his attention. You feel the smile in his voice, as if he expected and even knew it was you.

"Ah, hello, hello! Come on in!"

You do so, walking into the classroom.

"Hi..." You shyly wave at him.

"Yooou ready for today?"

You nod.

"Yup! Super ready, ready to get it done at least."

He... nods, hesitantly.

"Ah, I see."

You realize what you said.

"Uhp- kidding! Kidding. No, really, I'm kidding! It's just... I dunno."

"Hey, no, I get it. New chapter, very overwhelming stuff." He flashes a toothy smile.

You feel uneasy, looking at his smile, but you ignore the feeling.

"S-sorry, just dropping by 'cause... well, I-I don't know why."

You fiddle with your belt a little.

"Hey, it's all right, you don't need a reason to come see me."

"Oh! Okay, then uh..."

You awkwardly point finger guns at him.

"...see ya next week...?"

He grins just as awkwardly.

"Yeah? Of course."

You nod before waddling out without another word towards to your dorm room. 'Why are things weird now?' You can't help but ponder this as you slam your door shut.

"Ookaay, you ready?"

Mimi chirps affirmatively, but Kid ignores you entirely, laying on its side and pretending to be asleep. You wait a few seconds before groaning, the realization that it's doing this on purpose hitting you. You simply recall it back into its Pokéball and call for Mimi.

"C'mon, Mii! We're off!"

You walk out your dorm room, making sure to lock it. Pawmi on your shoulder, you begin your march toward the entrance hall. This was the first time you really left the school for an extended period of time, so you were a little nervous. But at this point, you'd do anything to get Capsakid to respect you.

During your talk the other day, Jacq had reassured you that Capsakid actually does seem to like you, but that was hard to believe since it doesn't see you as worthy of being its trainer. He said it's normal for this to happen, that both can be true at once, but it still felt bewildering, so you didn't get your hopes up.

Sighing, you step into the great hall, looking around one last time... as you heard footsteps approaching, along with your own name. Turning around, you saw Jacq, face red as he caught up with you.

"Ah, thank goodness you're still here-!"

He stops for a moment, hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath, mumbling "I really should've remembered- while you were still in my class-" to himself. You stand there, unsure of what to do. Mimi makes a little cooing noise as she stares at him, also uncertain. He finally sits back up, pulling something out of his pocket. It was a phone you've seen a lot of your peers using.

"I can't help but notice you have an older model of Rotom Phone," he starts, causing you to jump slightly at how embarrassingly blunt his comment was for a second. He continues, saying "-it's no problem in day-to-day life, but, you might want a newer one while out exploring. It could very well save your life!"

You think about this, not quite sure what he means. He can see your confusion, so he explains.

"Ah, this model has the ability to do many things! It can even power other items in the Rotom line. And if you ever fall, it will sense your velocity and slow your descent, no matter where you are."

He looks away, sheepish.

"I-it also has the latest edition of the Pokédex app. Fun fact! I, uh, developed it myself, back before I was in education, hehe..."

He seemed so timid stating his accomplishment, but you're honestly more curious now.

"Okay, how do I upgrade my phone, and where should I get one?"

Jacq smiled, holding the empty shell out.

"Just let your rotom possess this! All your data should transfer over, but it'll take a little while for it to adjust to the new one, it'll have to sync up with all its capabilities..."

"Wha- aren't those expensive?"

His face stays the same for a moment before morphing into one of sheer panic.

"Oh! Don't worry about it, really! You're starting your journey from the very beginning, i-it'd be easier if I aided you along the way... I have a few spares, the lab can be a mess at times, and uh... y-y'know..."

He closes his eyes as he finishes, grinning nervously. It seems like he didn't even think about it, so you hesitantly nod, holding your phone up. Jacq does the same, holding up the new one with a smile.

Your Rotom emerged from your old phone, leaving it a husk before entering the new one. The screen lit up in an instant, successfully making the move.

"Oh! Now what?"

He hands it to you.

"You just wait for it to boot back up to your lock screen..."

It's actually fairly quick, and soon enough, you see a familiar sight: a weird doodle of Pawmi blepping.

Jacq raises an amused eyebrow at this. You nervously chuckle, but remain silent otherwise.

"Ah, there you go! Now, you may have to wait for certain apps to update, but they'll all be available soon... any questions?"

You shake your head no, but you do offer something.

"I-is it weird to... exchange numbers?"

He tenses up, but he shakes his head.

"Well, I suppose not. I mean..."

He looks away.

"...of course... we can, I mean."

You nod before allowing your phones to exchange contacts, sending each other your default greeting messages.

"Thanks, might need a bit of advice while out on the field," you say, pointing to and holding your phone up, shaking it a little. He nods, grunting a little.

After this, curiousity gets the better of you. You check to see if the Pokédex app had updated, and it did, so you check it out on the spot. Jacq, upon hearing the little jingle, grew panicked, holding his hands up.

"W-wait, right here??"

You look at him, confused as the app loaded up.

"Oh, I wanted to test it out... maybe I can register Pawmi?"

He doesn't respond verbally, but after a few seconds, he gives a single nod.

You look at Pawmi, who nods as well before jumping off your shoulder, politely sitting down on the ground in front of you two with a little smile. She seems to know what the Pokédex is already, as if she's seen other Pokémon be, or even been scanned by it herself. You huff in amusement.

"Huh, even wild Pokémon seem to know about this. Great job, Jacq!"

You playfully rub his side with your elbow, eliciting a little chuckle as he turns away, limply holding the side of his left hand up to his mouth while rubbing his head with the right, flustered.

You hold your phone up, scanning the mon, heart pounding as you register your first Pokémon in quite a while, as well as the first time registering a teammate, something you were quite content not having before, but now couldn't wait to get to know more-

"Pawmi, the Mouse Pokémon. It has underdeveloped electric sacs on its cheeks, as well as electricity-discharging organs on the pads of its paws. The sacs on its cheeks will only produce electricity when furiously rubbed using its paw pads, while its stance is unsteady when firing electricity from said forepaws."

Pawmi sits up with pride, while your eyes sparkle with a newfound ardor.

"Whoooooah, this is so coool! No wonder people are always running around filling these things up!"

Sure, you had used the old app to identify Pokémon before, but to learn about your new friend sparked something in you.

"It's so convenient, too! You kinda blessed the world here-"

You turn to him, but now his entire upper half is facing away from you, head rubs now furious in intensity. You immediately go silent upon this revelation. His voice cracks a little when he responds.

"O-oh ye-ah?"

He then clears his throat, fist flying up to cover it.

"Thank y-you."

He turns away entirely. You tilt your head, but Pawmi has a glint in her eyes, paws flying up to suppress a giggle. You idly wonder what she saw when he coughs.

"Well then, b-be sure to have fun out there! I have to go, class starts soon, but uh, you have my number! Goodbye."

He then power walks off, head down.

You stand there confused as to why he was so apprehensive about you using the app in front of him before shrugging. Developers know best after all. Maybe he was in the process of fixing something, the previous edition doesn't get updated much. Pawmi seems to be staring at you with a devious smile, as if she knows.

"Paws, you may need to be my eyes sometimes."

She closes her eyes and chirps, seemingly happy with that idea.

_\V/_

End of Part 1

A/N

POV, you watch me slowly give up and start making up my own Pokélore

Also the ending of part one makes it seem like he's super duper into you already, HE ISN'T! But it is a start. I have such a cute explanation for why he's so fond of you already though and I cannot WAIT to get to that part oh my god

Also, sobbing/j, just realized why the spacing is weird when I upload these while trying to find a place to post this part. I think it's because it counts a line break as a space even if it isn't visible in my notes app, so one space for me is two for you, crying and bawling/j

#gender neutral reader #jacq x reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #spoilers #learn to love

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cloudbersoo · 8 months

Text

i can see you｜kim jiwoong

currently playing: i can see you by taylor swift

synopsis: you and jiwoong are enemies, at least that’s what everyone thinks.

tags: kim jiwoong x f!reader, suggestive, slight angst, forbidden love, implied enemies to lovers, your fathers hate each other, implied smut, no dialogue

word count: 1.2k

a/n: my first song fic!! this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i finally finished it. my goal was 1k words so 1.2k wasn’t too bad. also challenged myself to not write any dialogue which was kinda fun!

it was another tiring day of socializing with people you couldn’t care less about. you were at the lee’s mansion for their annual gala, standing still next to your father as he pretended to be a good parent. after mr. kim had accused him of being a deadbeat father, he had made it his mission to bring his ‘beloved’ daughter everywhere with him. it was all about appearance and reputation with the rich and powerful.

you stood next to your parents in your black gown, giving people forced smiles and wishing to be anywhere else. feeling the need to get some fresh air, you whispered to your mother before leaving her side. having spent many events at the lee’s, you knew your way around the place, quickly making your way to the front door. however, you were stopped by an older lady who wished to talk to you.

as you had no way out of the conversation, you stayed to talk to mrs. jung. she asked the usual “is there any man you’re seeing?” and “when are you finally settling down?” questions women your age always get. you politely declined the lady’s offer to introduce his grandson to you, lying that you weren’t looking for love at the moment. during the conversation, however, you got completely distracted by a man who had just made his entrance, the one and only – kim jiwoong.

but what would you do if i went to touch you now? what would you do if they never found us out? what would you do if we never made a sound?

kim jiwoong was the oldest son of mr. kim, your father’s biggest competition and by proxy, your enemy. he was wearing his signature black suit and necktie. his hair styled back, looking good as ever. you weren’t the only one in the hall to take note of his arrival, as women and men alike swooned over his appearance. nonetheless, the man’s eyes only met yours.

your relationship with jiwoong was complicated. you were raised to hate him, to see him as your biggest competitor, but as time went on thinking badly of him became difficult. jiwoong was a great man. he was smart, polite and charming. he treated you as an equal, something many never even thought of. at some point you started to fall for him. fortunately, your feelings were reciprocated, but that was a secret only for the two of you.

it’s ironic how every time you got asked about love, weddings and settling down, somehow jiwoong always appeared. you were quite sure he was the love of your life, the person you wanted to experience all of life with. he looked at you, scanning you up and down, with what people call his ‘bedroom eyes’. you wished you could go up to him, be held by him, be called his woman in front of everyone in the room, but that was something you could only dream of.

‘cause i can see you waiting down the hall from me and i could see you up against the wall with me and what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

jiwoong’s presence made you forget why you were there in the first place, mrs. jung long forgotten. jiwoong’s gaze was making you shy, which was something only he was capable of doing. he loved it, always making it his mission to get your cheeks hue pink at events. he achieved this by subtle touches or lingering stares, sometimes even by making you jealous when talking closely with other women, making them laugh the way he couldn’t make you in public.

a smirk rised into his face as he noticed the blush on your face, once again succeeding in his mission. he slowly turned his gaze away from you, as to not seem too obvious for others. you took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart and all the thoughts in your head. you were finally able to get out of the mansion as you wished a long time ago. you took one last look at jiwoong, before closing the door behind you.

i could see you in your suit and your necktie passed me a note saying “meet me tonight” then we kiss, and you know i won’t ever tell

getting back to your parents before they would get angry, you made your way into the main hall. however, you were stopped at the entrance by a maid. you were confused at first before she passed you a note. opening the small piece of paper, you were met by a familiar handwriting. ‘meet me tonight - j’, a smile rising to your face as you read the words from your secret lover.

as you approached your family, your father immediately started introducing you to new people he had met while you were gone. him describing you as his ‘perfect’ daughter almost made you laugh. if he only knew all the things you did with the son of the person he hated the most.

where you stood, you had the perfect view of jiwoong. he was talking with some people as well, trying his best to hide his disinterest. a strand of his hair had fallen out of place, sticking into his forehead. he stood confidently, with pride, as his father complimented him. his eyes finally met yours, like he had sensed your gaze. a small smile came to his lips, his eyebrows rising in question. you gave him a little nod and a smile as confirmation. you were definitely meeting tonight, how could you resist him?

and i could see you being my addiction you can see me as a secret mission hide away and i will start behaving myself

the door in front of you opened, revealing jiwoong behind it. he stepped aside, letting you step right into his hotel room. he closed the door before turning around and opening his arms for you. you wrapped your arms around his torso, melting into his touch. his suit jacket and necktie long forgotten on the floor as he embraced you warmly.

jiwoong raised his hand, putting his palm against your cheek, caressing it softly. his eyes were conveying all the love he had for you. your eyes travelled across his face, down to his lips. jiwoong was one step ahead of you, as he already leaned in to kiss you. his lips were soft, but he pushed them firmly against yours. he wasted no time as he started guiding you towards his bed.

he pushed you down to the bed playfully, following you as he climbed on top of you. trapping your hips between his knees as he started unbuttoning his shirt. he looked dreamy from a lower perspective, his abs peeking through under his shirt. you bit your lower lip, your hands travelling up jiwoong’s thighs, feeling extremely needy for your lover’s touch. finally removing his shirt, jiwoong bent down to heatedly kiss you again, his hands moving up your body. maybe your relationship with jiwoong wasn’t ideal. but having him on top of you like this, definitely made it all worth it.

i could see you throw your jacket on the floor i could see you make me want you even more what would you do, baby, if you only knew? that i can see you

- end

#zb1 #zerobaseone #kim jiwoong #zb1 x reader #zb1 kim jiwoong #zb1 jiwoong #kim jiwoong x reader #kim jiwoong fic #zb1 fic #zb1 fics #zerobaseone jiwoong #jiwoong #jiwoong x reader #kpop #taylor swift #cloudbersoofic

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aceri1485 · 4 months

Text

Fired (Pt. 2)

Pt 1 here!

Xiumin x Reader

key words: backstage, concert, stage hand, smut (18+, read at own risk — consensual, oral (male receiving), unprotected), fluff (does this count as fluff?), slow burn

authors note: uhh merry christmas I guess haha (1) this is purely fiction, please don’t be delusional and no I don’t think this would ever happen irl (2) protagonist (ie. the reader) gender is ambiguous on purpose, I want anyone to be able to read this and enjoy (3) I'm enjoying writing this more than I was expecting, soooo maybe part 3???

-----

"Hellooo - can you hear me?" your radio crackles from your waistband.

You stifle a yawn before grabbing your radio to reply, "Yes, I'm here! Sorry! I'm on my way."

"Oh good - thank you!" You hear the relief in Sam's voice, "Come find me when you're done!"

"Will do" you reply, then turn your attention back to the makeup artist, Jose, who had been talking your ear off for nearly 15 minutes before Sam's radio message interrupted you.

"Oh - I guess you have to go," Jose blushes, "I'm sorry, I know you must be busy, I just - nobody has really asked us what we..."

"What you need to do your job?" you finish the sentence, smiling gently at Jose, "I'm sorry if it seems like we haven't been paying attention to you before, the stage hands have been a little short staffed at the other concerts."

"No - no, that's not what I.." Jose blushed even more, "I didn't mean to imply you weren't doing your job before, I'm trying to say... I'm saying that I appreciate how hard you are working now and that I am grateful we have someone like you to support us."

You blink, surprised, and feel your own cheeks and ears getting hot. It was true - you had been working hard since Sam promoted you. That was three shows ago now, and while the team had been saying thank you, you hadn't truly felt like your extra effort had been noticed or appreciated.

Your radio crackles again, another staff member asking for Sam's approval on some other matter, bringing your attention back.

"I will do my best to get you what you need." you say to Jose, before going to run to your next task. You stop, though, and gently put your hand on Jose's, "and... thanks."

Jose locks eyes with you and smiles, "No, thank you - I'll see you later?"

You smile back, "See you later!"

Now you turn and jog down the hall, off to meet with one of the stylists for an emergency clothing shopping spree, but not before you catch sight of an achingly familiar figure passing across the hall in front of you.

Your body has an involuntary response, the blush in your cheeks deepening, but you force your mind not to wander and focus on the task at hand.

Arriving at the backstage door, you are surprised to find not only the stylist, but a manager and a tall man in a bucket hat and mask waiting for you. They greet you, smiling, as you head out the door together.

"Mr. Park - why are you coming with us?" you ask, smiling as his eyes widen in surprise, "What - you didn't think that so-called disguise is going to fool anyone, did you?" you laugh.

While it was true that you had come to know the members more and more since you had been working as a part of their core team over the past month, it was also true that anyone who had ever seen even a bad drawing of Chanyeol before would recognize him now.

"Hey, it's better than nothing!" Chanyeol shoots back as you hold the car door open for him. He slides in and you close the door, running around to get in on the other side. Luckily, the concert is still hours away, and any fans that are already lurking around are all at the entrance to the arena.

The last time one of the members had tried to join an outing like this before a concert, the police had to be called to stop fans from blocking the backstage door to let them get back inside the venue. So long as nobody knew Chanyeol was gone, nobody would be desperate enough to stake out the door to try and see him when you go back this time.

"I had to come so I can try on whatever we pick out," Chanyeol says as you buckle your seatbelts, "I didn't want to, I know how complicated it could get if someone sees me."

"Don't lie!" the stylist laughs from the front seat, "I told you I would bring back different sizes for you to try!"

"Yeah," the manager chimes in from the front seat, "I distinctly remember the conversation going something along the lines of "ahh I'm so bored, when will I ever-" hey, put that back on!" he cuts off as Chanyeol throws his bucket hat at him, "and be careful, I'm driving!"

Any tension the team had about a last minute outing melts away as you laugh, and the conversation turns to finding a good place to pick up coffee near the store the stylist wants to go to. As Chanyeol and the manager debate whether the members need coffee before a show, you pull out your phone to message Sam that you are on your way.

Distracted for a few minutes as you message back and forth with various team members, each putting in coffee requests or asking you to grab this or that, your attention gets pulled back to the conversation when you hear Xiumin's name.

Looking up, you see that Chanyeol was watching you. He smiles at you, too knowingly, and says "Sam would know, I think Xiumin told her after the last show."

"What was that?" you ask, trying to keep your expression clear, and looking anywhere but Chanyeol's face.

"Did he say something about his shoes being too big last show?" the stylist asked, not noticing - or pretending not to notice - the large grin on Chanyeol's face as he looked at you.

"Oh, no - the shoes fit fine," you say, "they needed new laces, the old ones were frayed and so they weren't staying tied" you explain, looking out the window in what you hoped was a non-chalant manner.

"Lets add laces to the list then," the stylist adds, "How could I have missed that? You're a life saver, thank you!"

"Don't mention it," you say, "And I already picked up some extra laces.. and changed out the old ones in Xiumin's shoes."

"When did you have time to do that?" the stylist turns to look at you.

"Oh, I... stayed late after the last show." you mumble, refusing to look at anyone in the car.

The stylist smiles, "You work way too hard, you know that?" laughing as they turn back in their seat, "I hope you know we all appreciate it!"

You're grateful that you can blame your blush on receiving your second compliment of the day rather than the thoughts of why you had really stayed so late after the last show.

It was the first time you and Xiumin had been able to be truly alone since... well, since that first night.

"Are you cold?" he asks, the corners of his eyes creased with concern, "Here, put this on."

He pulls off his jean jacket to wrap around your shoulders. The streetlight casts shadows of your sillouettes infront of you as you walk- a shadow couple, picture perfect, other worldly. You smile in thanks, pulling the jacket closer around you. It had to be nearly 3am already, the two of you had stayed at the arena talking for hours after the everyone else had left.

Your arms brush together as you walk, Xiumin's hands shoved into his pockets, a blush forming on his cheeks where his face is visible behind his black facemask, matching the pink tinge of your ears. Your shadows bump into eachother, at times overlapping, rarely a gap between them.

You both realize the hotel is less than half a block away at the same time and it's like you're suddenly walking in molasses. Your shadows crawl along the sidewalk ahead of you, shrinking into one another then growing full again as you pass between one streetlight to another.

At the door of the hotel, you both stop, not making eye contact with each other.

"Do you want-"

"Maybe another-"

You start speaking at the same time, turning to look at each other, breaking off just as quickly and turning away again, flushing.

"You f-"

"What did yo-"

And the tension breaks, both of you laughing.

"You go" you say, marvelling at the way the light streaming out from the hotel windows makes his eyes sparkle. You longed to pull off his mask so you could see how the light would catch on the rest of his face, with its simultaneously sharp angles and soft edges.

He won't look at you, instead staring at your shoes, but his hands come up and hold your elbows, "Maybe another... another lap around the block?" he asks.

You stop yourself from sighing in relief, anything to make the night last longer, just another few minutes-

You're pulled away from your thoughts by Chanyeol waving his hand in front of your face “Helloooo?"

You’ve arrived at a small shopping area and the manager is bragging about his great parking job.

"Oh, sorry," you smile, "I was just trying to - uh - remember everyone's coffee orders."

The stylist and manager hurry to usher Chanyeol into a store across the street, leaving you to actually try and remember everyone's coffee orders, entering a small cafe. It isn't busy, thankfully, but you apologize to the barista for the number of drinks you order nonetheless.

"Two iced americanos, 4 hot americanos, one vanilla latte..." you prattle off almost a dozen drinks and pay, "Sorry again - is it just you working today?"

"Yes, just me, but don't apologize!" the barista smiles at you, "I love a bit of a challenge."

"How so?" You ask, making small talk as they start working on the drinks.

"Oh, I love to see if I can pull double shots, or pour milk with one hand while steaming another round" the barista laughs, "like rubbing my head and patting my stomach... or is it the other way around?"

Both laughing, you keep chatting, realizing you have a similar taste in music when the song playing in the cafe changes, comparing your favourite types of teas and the best place to go for kimbap in the neighbourhood.

The barista smiles shyly, tucking their hair behind their ear, as you watch them work on the last drink, "Could I maybe get your..."

They trail off as Chanyeol bursts through the door, a whirlwind of energy not at all contained by his large frame, the manager close behind him.

"Almost ready?" the manager asks you and you nod, greeting them both before turning back to the barista.

"What were you saying?" you ask as they slide the last drink to you over the counter.

"Oh, its nothing!" they look flustered, clearly recognizing Chanyeol, who is now waiting by the register to order, "But - uh - if you're ever in the neighbourhood again, you should stop by. I'll make you one on the house," they say, recovering a bit and turning their attention back to you.

"Oh, I-" you break off as Chanyeol pointedly clears his throat and looks at his watch. The barista nods to you and hurries back over to the register to take Chanyeol's order.

Sighing, you slump into a seat across from the manager, the drinks you ordered filling the table in front of you. It turns out that Chanyeol had been accepting orders from the members while you were collecting orders for the staff and so the barista gets to work preparing another 9 drinks.

“We’d better hurry back after this,” the manager says, anxious, “Of course the big oaf gets recognized...”

-----

There are still 3 hours to showtime after you finish distributing coffee to the other stage hands, but there is still a never ending list of tasks waiting for you all before the show can start.

The crew and dancers walk through an entire sound and lighting check, one of the stylists has to be taken to the hospital for stitches after a mishap with a sewing needle, and Sehun’s earpiece has gone missing.

That’s how you find yourself in a back closet the crew was using as temporary storage, surrounded by boxes full of extra props and pieces of audio equipment. Your back to the door, bent at the waist to dig in the bottom of a particularly large box, you hear rather than see someone enter the closet behind you, just as-

“YES! It’s here!” You say triumphantly, shooting your hand into the air, clutching the small box containing Sehun’s earpiece.

Sighing in relief that there was at least one problem solved, you freeze when you hear the reply from behind you.

“What did you find?” Chanyeol says.

You turn around in an instant, surprise clear on your face, “Chan- I mean, Mr. Park? Sorry, I though you were Sam.”

He smiles and holds up his hands, “Just me - sorry to disappoint.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slightly anxious, “Did something else happen?”

“Something else?” He asks, confused, “Is there a problem?”

You bite your lip, cursing to yourself that you forgot how the staff tried their best to hide small issues from the members before the shows so they could focus on getting ready.

Forcing a smile, you say and hold up the box again, “No, not anymore - we’re good! What do you need?”

“Oh, I was.. I was hoping to talk to you actually” he says, trying to catch your eye to gauge your response.

Oh god, not now! You think to yourself, I don’t have time for this right now - actually, I don’t have time for this ever, I can’t loose this job!

“If this is.. what I think it is, then..” you take a deep breath and meet his gaze, “it’s not what it-“

“Looks like?” he finishes your sentence for you, giving you a hard look.

You set your jaw.

Chanyeol sighs, his shoulders relaxing, breaking eye contact and half turning away, “That’s too bad then. Because it looks like Xiumin is happier than I’ve seen him in years.”

Your jaw falls open.

Chanyeol turns to leave, then pauses with his hand on the closet door. “I just wanted to say..” he looks back at you over his shoulder, “He’s serious about you, about continuing whatever this “doesn’t look like” after the tour, and I hope.. I hope you don’t hurt him. I saw the way you were with that barista, and don’t pretend you don’t see how Jose looks at you.”

The elevator dings, but neither of you move to get off it. Instead, you both stand at the door, looking out down to the end of the hall.

The door slides shut, and you didn’t get off.

“I’ll just.. take you up to your room first.” You say, looking down at your shoes, hands clutching the hem Xiumin’s jean jacket still draped over your shoulders.

“Okay.. thanks.” He says, voice low. The elevator continues up, and his hand finds yours, pulling your grip from his jacket to intertwine your fingers.

The elevator dings again, but still neither of you move to get off, until the door starts to slide shut again. Xiumin puts out a hand to stop it, his other still holding yours.

Holding the door open, he steps off, but as you go to draw your hand away, he holds on even tighter, pulling you off the elevator with him.

“Xiumin...” you whisper, fully aware that the other members and the managers are staying on this floor as well, digging in your heels a bit to stop him from pulling you further down the hall as the elevator doors slide shut behind you.

He stops, but doesn’t look back at you. Instead, you feel his hand squeeze yours, and he whispers back “…please”.

You couldn’t have stood there more than 30 seconds after Chanyeol left but it felt more like a whole day before you shook it off. Gathering yourself again to the task at hand, you try not to think about how Chanyeol’s voice broke, “I hope you don’t hurt him.”

Radioing ahead to let Sam know you found Sehun’s earpiece, you practically sprint out of the closet.

Handing over the box to one of the managers, you remember the items Jose had asked you for earlier in the day and go to collect what you can.

It’s an hour to the show by the time you’re able to stop by the dressing room and check in with Jose after being sidetracked by different problems and tasks. You knock and enter the the dressing room after hearing Jose yell “Come in!”

You push open the door, balancing a small box full of different things Jose had asked for - a fresh lightbulb for the mirror, a new package of makeup wipes, spray bottle with water - and enter the room.

You quickly scan the room, taking in the manager sitting on the couch engaged in a phone call, Baekhyun holding up two shirts in front of a mirror while two stylists argue over which colour to go for and Chen sitting in front of the makeup mirrors while another stylist attacked his hair with a brush and gel.

But your heart doesn’t jump up into your throat until your eyes land on the one man you were hoping to find here. He’s sitting in front of the makeup mirror beside Chen, eyes closed as Jose attempts to dab some slightly glittery eye shadow on him without getting glitter everywhere else.

“Oh my GOD, you’re the best!” Jose says, seeing what you’re carrying, and Xiumin opens his eyes, “Xiumin, don’t you agree?” Jose grabs the box from you to push onto the counter infront of Xiumin, “I asked for all this this morning, I can’t believe you remembered everything!”

Looking at you in the mirror, Xiumin smiles “Yes.. you’re the best” he says quietly.

The subtext is thankfully lost on Jose who playfully smacks him on the arm, “I asked if you agreed but I did not say that you could open your eyes!”

You and Jose chat for a bit, Jose fluttering around Xiumin and Chen, finishing both of their makeup, while Chen and Xiumin start their own conversation. Baekhyun joins in a third chair, the stylists finally having come to a compromise and finding a completely different third shirt for him to wear.

Sounds of the crowd filing into the arena filter in, growing louder as the time passes. Down the hall, you hear the staff laughing in the common area, many of them trying to eat a quick dinner before the show starts.

Soon Sam checks in with you over your radio and you go to pop your head into the other dressing rooms, giving the 15 minute warning and checking that nobody needs anything last minute.

Another stage hand comes by to usher the members to the stage. You follow behind them in the hallway, trying to stay out of the way of dancers rushing to get to the stage and makeup artists trying to apply last minute touch ups to the members.

In the chaos, you find yourself beside Xiumin for a couple of seconds, just long enough for him to look at you and smile, your hands to brush and a wave of goose bumps to rush down your spine. With his makeup done, contacts in and his shirt unbuttoned like that, he is breathtakingly beautiful. Then he’s gone, carried forward by the wave of commotion heading toward the stage, toward the rising sound of cheers - no, screams - and the swell of the music.

You gasp, finally coming up for air, the rise and fall of your breath matching his, like two people who were underwater for too long. He meets your eyes, a low moan falling from his lips.

“Please, baby” he breathes out, “Please keep going.”

You blow cool air on his cock, moving your hand up and down, tantalizingly slow, enjoying the way his hips squirm as he tries to increase the friction and the way the storm in his eyes builds. One of his hands brushes your hair away from your eyes, gently. But the other grasps the sheets of the bed, muscles in his forearms taught and the veins in his hand jumping up, like he’s holding back the ocean with one hand.

You place your hand over his, releasing his grip on the sheets and intertwining your fingers at the same time as you lower your mouth back around his cock. He can’t hold back the loud gasp, or help the way his hips buck. The hand that one second ago was so tenderly brushing back your hair now pushes your head down.

Saliva fills your mouth as you try not to gag, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can with each push down of his hand. His fingers tangle in your hair as he guides you. You suck and swirl your tongue, glancing up at him every now and then. He can’t look away from you, he’s transfixed. It fuels your own arousal, and you move one hand down to touch yourself. Your other hand is still holding his, two drowning people clasping onto each other like a lifeline.

“Shit, I’m-“ he says, hips bucking again, “Fuck, don’t stop..”

Your name, mixed in with a string of curse words, falls from his mouth as he gasps for air, his voice deep and breathy at the same time. His hand leaves your hair, flying up behind him to hold on to the headboard. You pick up the pace, abandoning your own pleasure to pump him with your hand lower down his shaft while your use your mouth at his tip.

The wave crashes down and with low yell he releases. You swallow, continuing to work him until he gasps and pulls your head away. Then he pulls you up into a deep, long kiss, and you sigh, relaxing into it, relaxing into him. When you break apart, you pull the cover up over you both and rest your head on his shoulder. He kisses you on the forehead, mumbling something about the time and his alarm going off in a couple hours. Holding each other close, your breathing deep and again in sync, you fall asleep. Faint sunlight breaks through the crack in the curtain at the foot of the bed.

An hour later, the sunlight wakes you up, hitting you in the face. Now strong and bright, it had crept up the bed until it hit you square in the eye. Xiumin still sleeps beside you, his hair falling across his forehead, relaxed and blissfully protected from the sun.

A few moments later, you are closing the door as quietly as possible behind you, dressed but holding your shoes in your hands, ready to tiptoe to the elevator. The door closes and you turn, freezing in place, eyes locked on Chanyeol standing in an open doorway across the hall.

END (P3 maybe?)

#exo fanfic #exo #writing #xiumin fanfic #xiumin smut #xiumin x reader #exo x reader

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m-feline · 11 months

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To adapt, to survive, to live - cha 20

Silco x Freader

Tags: violence, blood, crime, mentions of torture, wedding night (take two), mentions of smut; (in short this chapter isn't PG)

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The entrance was dark. So dark that I could barely see anything. But I did see light ahead in a room at the back. What sort of warehouse this was, I had no idea. But the moment we got to the lightened room I got a pretty good idea what other uses this place had.

In the middle of the room were four men on their knees, hands tied behind their backs, and sacks covering their faces. Finn, and three other of his henchmen, were sitting on crates or leaning against the wall. When we got to the room, Finn approached Silco and Silco came forward to meet him.

“So you came now? I thought you and the Mrs. would have a… lovely night by now,” Finn said glancing at me. "Congrats by the way.”

“Thank you, Finn,” Silco said dryly, but his tone soon switched to a more pleasant one. "And thank you for getting them delivered.”

“The pleasure is mine, consider this my wedding present,” Finn said smugly. "But I gotta ask, why these guys and what did they do to get on your unlucky-list?”

“Let's see, shall we,” Silco said and simply extended his hand to Sevika palm up. Sevika had a couple of files with her and she passed one of them, a thick one, to the expecting hand of Silco which he took, opened, and then walked to stand right in front of one of the kneeling men.

“Officer Jeffrey Seagull. Extortion, accepting bribery, false vows, and falsifying documents. You got quite a nasty list of deeds for an Enforcer,” Silco said.

“Mhmph-mphhh,” The man in question made sounds that indicated that he was also gagged under the sack. What on Runeterra was going on? How is this a wedding present?

“I'm sorry, I didn't get that,” Silco said as he leaned a bit forward as if he could hear better what the man said. The man made more sounds but none of it was understood because of the gag. "Oh, how silly of me. You can't say or see anything because of what you have in your head.”

With one nod Silco gave a silent order, and Finn and two of his men removed the sacks from the four kneeling men. It then dawned on me what this was. I recognized one of the men. He was there when my mother…

"As I was saying,” Silco said cutting my thoughts. "Next we have Lieutenant Hayden Jenson, bribery, gambling, and on both occasions not even with your own money.” The man in question looked at Silco with fearful eyes. They all still had gags so no one spoke back. "Then there are some cases of abuses but it all went away once you paid the right parties.”

Was Silco reading their misdeeds to them? Why? I wasn't surprised they could do all that, they already killed my mother. At first, I was worried about what I was about to see, but now that I knew who these men were that feeling was gone. Instead, I wanted to see this closer. As I took a step closer, I saw from my peripheral that Sevika saw me move and her face looked… concerned. Did she think I was bothered by all this? I wasn't. Not anymore.

“And then we have inspector Harris,” Silco continued. "I heard you might soon be promoted to Sherriff. But I doubt that happens if people know about your visits to the Lanes included meeting with certain women and… are these children?” The way Silco acted as if surprised must have been hilarious to Finn since he couldn't stop grinning. To think these men had gotten away with all of this including what they did to my mother. Silco seemed as if he was still reading the file but everyone by now knew he was just acting. "I hope you didn’t meet with them for anything else but work. Because this could cause many misunderstandings.” The man, Harris tried to say something but because of the gag, it was just mumbling.

"And last we have Bradley Zain. Well, from all the four of you, you got the shortest list of misdeeds. You were detained several times for… improper behavior while drunk. Seriously?” Silco read and mockingly asked the man. Actually, of all four men, this one looked pathetic. But he was also the one who I recognized first.

“But despite all this, you four have one case in common,” Silco said as he took his place in the center where all four could see him. "Rape and murder, over 20 years ago.” The eyes of all four men went wide as they heard that. Good, so they all remember. Silco saw this too. "Unlike all these that I have just read to you, that case is in Piltover Police Department archives.” Silco gave the file he had to one of the twins and received another from Sevika. "A woman killed in her home, probably a robbery, intended by some ruffians from the other side of the bridge.” Silco summarized what was written in the file. "Her fiancé demanded another investigation but all evidence was lost as four officers who found the woman had to break into the house to… I'm not going to read this shit, we all know that is not what happened. No one is stupid enough to go, rape, and kill a fiancé of an Enforcer, and expect to get away with it.” Silco had stopped his acting and the anger was evident on his face. "Unless they knew they won't be found.”

They knew they were screwed now. At least half of them. The one I recognized looked scared and fearful as if he knew there was no way out. His smell was pure fear. The other one seemed worried too but not as much as the other. His smell indicated an increase in heart rate and he seemed a bit preoccupied by something. The other two didn't look okay but definitely tried to calm themselves down. But I could smell their anxiety.

“Let's make this clear, gentlemen,” Silco said as he passed the file back to Sevika. "You disgust me. I know some Enforcers are corrupted. More than you claim us to be down here but this... Is whole new level.” The one who was called Harris tried to talk again, trying very hard to get some words heard past the gag. Silco nodded and Finn went to remove the gag from his mouth.

“What do you want from us?” He asked with a voice mixed with fear and anger.

“Me? Nothing. For all I care, people like you can be sent to Stillwater and left festering there for all I care,” Silco growled. "But today is my wedding day, and I promised myself to give my wife a gift. She doesn't want anything but I believe this will be something she would want to see.”

Sevika looked at me, she must have not known about my past, or why I wanted to see these men suffer. I walked to stand next to Silco and leaned my head to rest on his shoulder as I watched the four men on their knees. Did they recognize me? Did they even remember?

“What are you going to do to us?” Harris asked again after he eyed me. He must have not recognized me.

“Hmm, what could we do?” Silco asked no one in particular before he turned to me. "What do you think, dear?”

"For starters, we could send these files to the papers. I for one like to see how people react when they hear their best officers are up to their necks in scandals like these,” I said as if were having a Monday conversation with Silco.

“Really? Looks like great minds think alike. I already send copies of these and little extra stories, to a couple of friends on the top. The news should appear tomorrow in several newspapers,” Silco said.

“You did?” I asked in surprised.

“I did,” Silco smiled.

“What if you couldn't get these suckers here tonight?” I asked curiously.

“Oh, that is actually the cherry on top. I had plans to show the newspaper to you in the morning after our wedding night. Once people knew of their… adventures, all we had to do is sit and wait for someone else to deal with them. But now, I let you decide what happens to them,” Silco said. How could something so sinister make me so excited? Because these guys had it coming. The fact that Silco managed to get them before me on their knees and at my mercy, made me excited and happy. I could even say it turned me on a bit. To show him my appreciation I kissed his cheek before I took one step forward and rubbed my chin with my hand as the other supported my arm.

"Let's see, how should I go with this…” I said out loud as if I was picking a new pair of shoes. "I bet none of you don't even know who I am.”

“And why would we care whose whore…” Harris was about to say but Finn kicked him to the side and made him shut up.

“Mind your words, old man. This lady here is the bride today. It is bad luck to call the bride anything else on her special day,” Finn said.

“Thank you,” I said curtly. "Is there really such thing that you can't call the bride a whore on her wedding day?”

"I don't know,” Finn said. "But it did cause my buddy some bad luck when he called some Topsie lady in white that way.” I couldn't help but laugh at that one. Finn can be sometimes annoying but when he is useful and in his element, he isn't such a rotten egg.

One of the other men who was still gaged tried to say something but nothing he said made sense.

“Could someone…”I asked as I pointed to the guy in question. One of Finn’s men came closer and removed the gag.

“Please, I have a family waiting for me. A wife and two sons. One of them is still five,” The man begged the moment his mouth was free. Seriously, after all, he had done, now he thinks of his family? What was this guy named? Hayden? Right, Hayden Jenson. I came closer and crouched down before him.

“And why should I care?” I asked coldly. The man in question looked horrified. "How did it go? She begged, not for her life, not that you wouldn't hurt her. She begged not to touch her little girl. What was it that you guys said back to her?” The horror intensified in the man’s eyes as he saw the snake slither from my collar and come right under my right eye. "You said that you will find me and you will handle me yourself.”

"Holy shit she had a chi...” The man muttered in pure shock.

“Of course, she had a child, you disgusting pig,” I shouted as I got up and kicked him in the face. That made everyone shocked by my outburst. Well, everyone except Silco. He stood at the side and simply watches me have my revenge. I could feel the snake move to my eye and I felt as it went right inside the eye socket. "You knew from the beginning she had a daughter. You even sent this jackass to look for me while you had your ways with my mother.” I shouted in anger as I pointed to the one guy who I had recognized from the moment I saw him. Now they all knew who I was. It was evident in their eyes. The smell of fear, the smell of their minds finally realizing what they were facing. They will meet the consequences of their actions all those years back.

“I will make sure you will face the same thing that you made my family go through,” I said.

“Family? Wait, we didn't do anything to Samuel…” Harris protested. But I shut him up as I kicked him in the gut. And made him fall to his side.

“Don’t say his name as if you knew him,” I roared in anger. Again everyone got spooked by me. Not from my outburst this time, it was something else. The snake had gotten right to my eye. And when I blinked, my eyes resembled the eye of a snake and not human. My other eye had a greenish hue as I looked at the scums who ruined my life when I was a child. Well, not all of them.

“Lock this one up,” I said and pointed to one of them. The one I had recognized. What was his name…? Zain?

"What do you want us to do with him?" Finn asked as he got over the shock and got used to my unnatural eyes.

“Nothing. You will not hurt him, nor will you do anything to him,” I said coldly.

“What? After all the trouble we had to go through…?” Finn asked but he stopped when he saw me glare at him with my unnatural eyes.

"You will not touch him. But you will make sure he hears everything that happens to these guys,” I said. It took a moment for Finn to understand what I meant. When he got that, he told his men to grab him and put in inside a crate that I guess was meant to be their coffin if Silco had decided to end them.

“Why spare him?” Silco asked as he came to my side.

“As I said they put him to look for me when they raped my mother,” I said, the snake moved away from my eye yet stayed on my face. My eyes turned to normal human eyes. I had calmed down.

“He didn't find you?” Silco guessed.

“Oh, he found me. But he didn't say anything,” I said.

“Brad, that spineless…” Harris cursed when he heard what I said.

“But still, why simply lock him up,” Silco asked cutting off Harris and pulling me to sit on a crate.

“Though he will not get hurt by anyone. I want him to know what I felt when I was hiding and hearing what these animals did,” I said and sneered at the three men.

"I understand, please sit, dear. Your feet are dirty,” Silco said as he knelt down to remove my heels. There was blood on them. It was perhaps from the guy called Hayden. At least, his face looked like it. But it could also be Harris. They looked all in bad shape but both of the two men had blood coming from their mouths but the third one was still gagged.

“What shall we do with these three?” Silco asked as he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, lifted gently my foot, and began to clean my foot where the droplets of blood were.

“I had ideas of killing them, but that would be over too fast,” I said as I watched Silco clean my foot.

“Good point,” Silco said and set down my foot and he picked up my other foot and began to clean it. "What else had you in mind?”

“Ruin their lives, but you got that part covered,” I smiled at him. Silco smiled back and planted a kiss on my shin before he set down my foot. "I want them to hear, no, live the shame of their actions. But I also want them to go through pain and suffering. Make them wish for death.”

“And how do you wish to do it?” Silco asked as he helped me to get up after putting my heels back on. I eyed them again. The one called Hayden was a wreck. He must be pondering already what his family would go through when the newspaper appears. Harris looked angry as if he could still get through this. The third one what was his name… never mind. He looked like he was about to faint. If something would happen now to him he wouldn't notice it. That would be a waste.

“Something… that takes time,” I said pondering, and then I turned to Finn. "Finn, would you be dear, and call all your men here?”.

“Why?” He asked uninterestedly. Silco looked annoyed for a moment but I soothed him with a little touch on his hand.

“Especially those who wish to handle our guests,” I said. Finn looked at me a moment and then it clicked to him.

“What do you have in mind, madam?” He asked grinning.

“I wish you to pick one of these three for tonight and let your men have fun with him. What sort of fun? I don't care. You can do anything you wish. Punch him, kick him, humiliate him, fuck him up, anything you want. Just follow these two rules.” I could already see how Finn and his men got excited about what I was offering to them. "Rule number one, they must stay alive. If they die the fun ends there. Rule number two, set them free at noon the next day and let them crawl back to the top. If they can make it that is. Rest for a day and on the next evening you can continue with the next one.”

“You witch,” Harris cursed but I ignored him.

“And once we have set all three free?” Finn asked.

“You set the fourth one free a day later. Remember he has to hear everything you do to them,” I said.

One of Finn’s men got up and left the room but I could hear him from the other room that he was calling others and telling them to gather more people. They surely loved the idea to have their way with these guys. Enforcers, and dirty ones at that.

“Madam, you honor us with your request,” Finn said as he came closer and made a theatrical bow to me. He even took my hand to place a kiss on it but Silco grabbed my hand and pulled it away from him. For a young punk who has to learn his place, he sure lives to make a scene. Four more people came to the room and got quickly briefed on what they had in store for tonight.

“We should have killed you with that bitch of a mother of yours,” Harris roared. Silco didn't stand for that, he was about to say something but he held it in and turned to Finn.

“Start with him,” Silco said. "My wife said you can pick anyone but I want this one to go first. Don't hold back.” Finn didn't need to be told twice. Soon more people came to the room. I didn't need to see anymore. Just hearing how excited they got when they heard from others they could do whatever they want, was more than enough to ensure me, that these men, these murderers, will suffer tonight. Tonight they lose their dignity, and tomorrow they lose their reputation. Will they lose their life at one point will only be a matter of time.

Silco guided me out of the warehouse as the room got full of Finn’s people when more came in. Our business was done and we no longer needed to be there. I could hear already what options some were putting on the table as we walked out of the warehouse. After we got out and the twins closed the big door, I no longer heard any of the noises. I heard nothing, felt nothing. I smelled rain, but since we were at Entresol level the rain won't reach this place. But I could smell it all the way here. I wished to be up there, to feel the rain, to hear it, to taste it. I could only smell it, so I took a deep whiff of it. It was more than enough for me to wash away my horrible past. The nightmare I went through as a child was now finished. The people who killed my mother were now going to pay for their crimes. I already had my vengeance on the people who shamed my mother by getting my signia. I was… free? Is that the correct term for this?

I felt lightheaded. I had to lean to a wall so I wouldn't fall down. That was difficult with heels. I almost fell if Silco hadn't caught me by the waist.

“Are you alright?” Silco asked with concern.

“I'm… I'm alright, just a bit dizzy,” I said. Silco helped me to lean against the wall. When he saw that I was okay he turned to Sevika.

“Bring the carriage,” Silco said. Sevika nodded and left with one of the twins, the other one stayed at some distance making sure no one would try anything while Silco was looking after me.

“Since when?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” Silco asked.

“Since when did you… prepare this?” I asked. “There is no way you did all this after we… got engaged.” Silco leaned back a bit, looked up, and let out a deep sigh.

“I'm not sure when it happened but since I decided that I want you to be mine, I began to plan this…reunion,” Silco said looking back at me.

“And when was that?” I asked.

“At least, sometime after you got back the first time from your ritual,” Silco said. "Definitely after your side effects were gone. You were a pain in the ass when you didn't take care of yourself. After that, I began slowly to… fall for you. But how to get you to fall for me? That was the real question. You were always focused on Jinx, never asking anything for yourself. But then when it was the day of your mother's death date. The launching of the Hexgates. I saw what you truly wanted.”

"And that was?” I asked.

“Revenge. Revenge on those who did wrong to you and your family,” Silco said. "When you came back the second time and you had your signia, I worried that you may leave me. But you didn’t. It was then that I began to make arrangements for this meeting.”

"Wait since then... That evening when you met with Marcus... You asked for something," I realized.

“The file of your mother’s case over 20 years ago. Who wrote it and the names of the officers who were present? The rest just required a couple of favors from Chross and Finn, and here we are.”

“You did all this…for me?” I asked.

“Yes, for you,” Silco said. "So you will stay with me. And the three of us can be a family. You, me, and Jinx.” How can this man who is slowly becoming a Kingpin, be so considerate of someone like me? I told myself that if this man would still love me after I ruined our wedding night, I would love him back for the rest of my life. But now I learned that he did this for me, how can I ever leave him? How could I show him that I love him? Well, the simplest way is the best. I grabbed his collar to pull him closer, raised to my toes, and smashed my lips on his. He was surprised I can tell, even more when I deepened the kiss just like he had done some time ago in our room. After a moment, he got over his shock and kissed me back as his hand came around me and pulled me against himself. I didn't see it but the one twin left to guard us looked away for giving us privacy just in case. The kissing got heated quickly since Silco had kissed me before and guided me on how it is done. We stayed like that for a while till we had to separate for air.

“I love you,” I said panting for air. My face was flushed. I know I need the air but I need that kiss more. I wanted him to know it.

“And I love you,” Silco said before he captured my lips again. He knows alright. We kept kissing till we heard Sevika clear her throat and we saw her standing just a short distance away.

“The carriage is here,” She said. I felt a bit embarrassed. We should have waited to be somewhere private first. But I worried that I couldn't express strongly enough how much I loved him now. Maybe if…

“Good, let's go, love,” Silco said as he took my hand and we went for the carriage. I leaned closer to Silco and whispered what I wanted him to hear before we reached the carriage.

“We still have a wedding night to consume. Ask them to get there fast,” I whispered. Silco’s eyes went wide. I hope no one heard. Apparently not but they saw his face, so it was up to their imagination.

“Take us to the Green Tower,” Silco said right before he entered the carriage. His tone was determined and cool. Why did we have to go there? Weren't we going back to the Last Drop?

“Boss, weren't you going to go there a few days later?” Sevika asked, also wondering why the sudden change of destination.

“We go there now,” Silco said with a tone that left no room for arguments. When he turned to me he saw the same confusion as Sevika had on my face and a little bit of worry. "Our honeymoon suite.” Wait, he wasn't… we were going on our honeymoon? Right now? Silco chuckled when he saw the realization on my face followed by the bright red flushing. We didn't talk on the way there. He let me process the change of location and what it meant for the whole ride to the big huge tower. It was the first high building on the Promenade level, and more were on the way. Since some of the services in the Undercity were becoming "interesting” even for people at the topside, some hotels were beginning to be constructed in the Promenade and Entresol levels. The Promenade level hotels were planned to reach high enough to see the bridge between Piltover and the Undercity, even higher. The tower we went to was the first of the hotels and already had customers besides us.

The carriage stopped sooner than I anticipated, we weren't that far off from the Promenade level. When we came out of the carriage, Silco helped me down. While I looked around Silco spoke in low tones with Sevika, I didn't hear what it was. But whatever it was, Sevika ended the conversation with a nod, and Silco took me to the entrance of the tower. When we walked in one person ran to meet us. He was some middle-aged man wearing a nice suit and seemed a bit winded.

“Sir, what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” The man said while trying to not sound out of breath.

“I came to stay in the suite we agreed,” Silco said with a cold and proud tone.

“B-but sir, y-you said you would come tomorrow at the earliest,” The man said with an anxious tone.

“I'm here now,” Silco said. The look on his face was mean. But I had seen him more furious just a moment ago. If the man didn't want to see that then he better be prepared to deliver what is meant to.

“W-w-we have the room ready. B-but the additional … setting is not…” The man stuttered.

“Not necessary, we just want the room. Now,” Silco said putting more emphasis on the last word. The man hurried to the reception desk to get things done. Lucky for him, he got things arranged and got us quickly to the elevator that would take us to the very top floor. The penthouse. We didn't need keys or anything the whole floor was for us. Seriously, Silco had this all planned for our honeymoon? The thought of it made me both excited and nervous at the same time.

“Getting nervous again?” Silco asked in the elevator. Dammit, the snake was at my wrist again. I tried to hide it but Silco caught my hand and brought it to his lips. "There is no need to be worried. We will be alone. And as I promised before, I’ll be gentle.” I swear I felt my belly drop and a warm feeling reaching every part of my body.

“Promise me no one else will have me,” I said quietly as I got closer and pressed my body against his. He put his free arm around my waist and pulled even closer if that was possible.

“If I could, I would poke out every pair of eyes so they won't even look your way,” Silco said. " Or I could lock you up in my room so only I could have you every day.”

”Now, you're being scary,” I chuckled as I joked.

“I'm a scary man. And I get pissed if someone tries to covet my woman.” Dang, that turned me on. Why? I couldn't be a sadist, right? No, no, it's because I would be safe with him. Whatever I would do, he will help me. He kept me safe when he knew I wasn't Vander’s woman, he kept me untouched when he heard I'm a virgin, he let me be when he learned of my ritual and signia, and he accepted me even if I ruined our wedding night. But I could still make it up to him.

I smashed my lips against him for a heated kiss. Silco kissed me back and for the rest of the elevator ride, we had our private make-out session. I got a little excited and opened his cravat before we got to our floor but he stopped me.

“Easy now, let us first get to the bed, love,” Silco said taking my hands and pulling them away from his collar. Right on cue came the sound of a bell that indicated that we had arrived at our floor. The room was huge. The whole floor was one big room that had a big bathroom attached to it. Well, not that I got to check any of it when Silco swept me off my feet and carried me to the big king-sized bed. I couldn't help yelping and laughing as he carried me like a bride to the bed and laid me down gently before climbing over me. I wanted to kiss him again but he began to remove his jacket, the cravat, the vest, and the shirt, and he even practically ripped my dress off.

“Hey, I liked that one,” I said in offense. Covering my naked breasts since I had no bra on.

“I don't,” Silco growled seductively. "It was in the way. Now my dear, where were we before we had to… interrupt our moment?”

"You mean before I ruined it all?” I asked with remorse, looking away.

“No, dear,” Silco kissed my cheek and made me look at him again. "We just had a little hiccup.” He kissed my lips before he began to ascend on my body. “Now, instead of simply telling you, how about I really show you how good I can make you feel?”

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