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#and Yet I feel like I made nothing because all of these pieces are tiny
caswarrenart · 1 year
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Art vs Artist 2022 🍀🪲 ☀️
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s4lv4tions · 8 months
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labour of love; nsfw
pairing; nanami kento x reader summary; something is on your husband's mind — nothing that can't be solved with a morning in bed, you're sure. wc; 4.6k cw; smut, largely vanilla, nanami kento is a loving husband etc
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You’ve long since grown used to the press of knees against the mattress rousing you from your sleep. The gentle dip of the bed, the steady — if not stilted — breathing, the sudden waft of his cologne as he tries to settle himself beside you without waking you. It doesn’t work most nights, but Kento still tries.
He smells like the cleanliness of shower gel and the spicy goodness of his favourite fragrance, all nutmeg and saffron and warmth. It’s enough to have you rolling over to face him, half-lidded and half-asleep, hooking your leg over his waist and burying your nose into his neck. There’s a rough puff of air as he realises he’s failed to be stealthy — not for the first time, either. But he pulls you closer anyways, hands smoothing up your back as if to memorise the curve of your spine, or to cajole you back to dreamland.
If there was a way to become one with him you would’ve figured it out by now. Some days, in this bed, it feels like you’re close enough to discovery. Perhaps if you press every possible inch of yourself against him, share the same air, let your minds float away to the same place, it'll happen. Alas, you wake as two separate people, forced to peel yourselves apart when the sun rises and he's off to work. It’s always accompanied by disappointment, but for now you revel in the feeling of his firmness beneath you, and the beat of his pulse in your ears.
“Sorry for waking you up.”
He always says it, and you never mind, but you reply anyway. “It’s okay. I like seeing you.”
Kento’s arms tighten around you, and he says nothing back. The shaky breath muffled against your hair is enough to tell you how his day went, but you won’t ask him about it. Not yet, not when it’s still fresh in his mind. It’s enough of a blessing that he was able to return home at all tonight, instead of sleeping at his desk with only his jacket to fend off the cold. Still, even a good night’s sleep won’t solve everything. You can deal with it tomorrow.
“Did you eat?” You mumble, trying to ignore the seductive hands of sleep pulling at your brain. “I left… hamburger steak. In the fridge.”
“Mm.” His lips brush your hair, and you feel yourself slipping away, further and further into dreamland. “Don’t worry, darling. Just sleep.”
“O…kay… Sweet dreams… Kento…”
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You always sleep best when you’re with Kento. You know this because, without fail, you end up drooling all over him like a dog. It's something that never happens when you’re bundled up alone, but it’s as if every muscle in your body relaxes something fierce when you’re with him. It’s embarrassing, and gross, but somehow he never minds. Just chuckles and watches you fuss over wiping it all away, teasing you about how deep you must’ve been sleeping. This morning is no different.
You’d woken with the sun. The curtains you’d forgotten to close shed honeyed sunlight across every fold of your blankets, every inch of skin, every tiny piece of dust floating in the still of the air. Hair tousled and mouth dry, you were so warm it almost made you fall right back asleep. Any part of you not covered in a blanket was wrapped, in some way, in Kento’s arms. The perfect morning. No longing looks as he rose to go to work; no cold side of the bed if he’d stayed in the office. Just perfection and warmth and… a drool stain on his arm.
Whether your cheeks are now warmed by the sun or a persisting feeling of embarrassment, you cannot say, but his hands are even warmer where they cup your face. You attempt to ignore him, scrubbing at his skin. “I need to tape my mouth shut.”
His thumb begins to smooth back and forth. If you were a cat you’d be purring. “Dramatic.”
A glare that’s far too soft. You push away the corner of the duvet you’d haphazardly chosen as your rag, cursing yourself for your weakness as you abandon your task and instead lean into him. “Oh, and I suppose you enjoy waking up every morning with a sticky bicep, Kento?”
“Mm.” The way he urges you towards him is not lost on you; it’s not until your noses brush and your lips part that he says: “I love it.”
“You’re gross.” Your smile betrays you, but you can’t help yourself. You let your graze trail over the handsome planes of his face; from his strong, pointed nose to his chiselled cheekbones, his thin, expressive eyes and tousled morning hair.
“Mhm. And you married me regardless.”
"Hm. I guess I did."
It's like two giggling children sharing the silliest inside joke. Your laughter is soft and breathless, still muddled with sleep, and it's natural the way that you fall into each other so easily. Your head falls back against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear; your legs intertwine, and your arms hook under his. Close enough to the point where you don’t know where one of you ends and the other starts. If only every day could start like this one, but you're the sort of person who cherishes rarity. And oh, how rare it is to wake up with him — speaking of which…
"You don't have work today?" You ask, trying (and failing) to keep the hope out of your voice.
"No." There's a little pause, before: "I finished up my latest project, so I took the day off."
You haven't forgotten the pledge you made to yourself yesterday: the promise to ease whatever may ail him, or at least to get to the bottom of it. “Woah. You passed up a chance to make money?”
“I suppose I did.”
"Hm, I don’t mind. I like having you to myself." Breakfast, that goes without saying. Maybe he'd prefer to go out for it, or maybe you could cuddle until brunch. Maybe he'd like to take the rare opportunity to stay in all day — and if you're in all day, you may as well do a little more than cuddle...
“You’ll have to share me with the laundry.”
“Mm.” As if drawn there, bolstered by the knowledge that you essentially have all the time in the world, your lips meet the side of his neck. You feel him swallow as you do, but Kento’s nothing if not poised; even as you dare to scrape your teeth along his skin, there’s no other reaction that’s quite so visceral. “I’m a jealous woman, you know.”
“I know.”
Those hands that had cupped your face start to trail down your back — warm and slightly calloused, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Brushing over the elasticated waistband of your panties, lingering just enough to be suggestive, but no more. You pretend that even the slightest whisper of his touch doesn’t make your stomach twist pleasantly, but you suppose you’re long past coyness, considering you are husband and wife. “And you married me, so you know I can’t share you.”
“Even with the laundry?”
“Oh, especially with the laundry.” You finally lift yourself from nipping at his pulse point, flushed and arching into his hands, and stare at him straight on. His gaze is half-lidded, but his eyes — oh, his eyes. So clear and sharp and fixed on you like he wants to print your image onto his eyelids. And his body is so firm beneath you, broad and muscular (you’ve never questioned how a salaryman who has no time to go to the gym is so incredibly fit, but you aren’t about to start now) — even on top of him you feel almost dwarfed. “But, speaking of laundry — we should probably get our money’s worth from the washing machine, then, shouldn’t we?”
An eyebrow quirks. “Oh?”
“Mhm. If we’re gonna wash the sheets, they may as well be as dirty as they can possibly be. Filthy, even.” No use in playing innocent. It’ll be killing two birds with one stone — multiple birds with one stone, even. You can treat your hardworking Kento to an orgasm or two, comfort him after what was no doubt a long, hard day — all the while you enjoy yourself in his arms, and save time and money with the laundry. Perfect.
You’re practically kneading his biceps at this point. The manicure he pays for bi-weekly digs in just slightly, leaving half-moon dents in his otherwise perfect skin. You don't worry about it too much; if there’s one thing you know about Kento it’s that he treasures those little marks above all else.
“How do you propose we do that?” He says, face purposefully blank.
Groaning, you give his arm a light slap. “C’mon, don’t make me say it, Ken.”
“I was joking, darling.” With a smile that sends your tummy flipping, he threads one hand in your hair, large palm flat against your skull, and urges you closer to him. The other settles itself against your jaw, keeping your head firmly in his hands, and it’s with very little shame that you melt into him. It’s hard not to — and besides, why starve yourself of something you’ve waited so long for? “I’m not that cruel.”
A liar he is not; with little fanfare, his lips meet yours, and it’s like every time before and every time after. His lips are smooth, his nose slanted to press against yours, and every movement is deep. His tongue licks into your mouth, lips moving against yours in such a way that you can’t help but moan. It's interesting to experience first-hand how much your relationship with Kento has changed over the years. When you first met him, he baulked at even the mere idea of tongue — this Kento, though, is some measure of depraved, and takes great pleasure in the way you squirm underneath him when his tongue runs over yours.
It’s the type of kiss that, inevitably, makes you want more. You’ve long since parted your legs to hug either side of his hips, and you whine at the press of his growing bulge against your panty-covered clit. It’s that dull sort of pleasure — not enough, never enough, and you’ll curl and arch and flex yourself until it feels like it might be, grinding down on the shape of him. At some point his hands move from your head to your waist — or are they at your back, your ass, your hips? You’re not keeping track. You only know that they sear the skin that they touch and set your nerves aflame, and that’s all that matters.
You’ve just broken apart to catch your breath, prepared to peel off your panties and have your way with him — but in the blink of an eye you’re weightless, and the world twists and warps and you’re under him, suddenly, with the wind knocked out of you. “Kento!”
“Sorry, love.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, the words are barely out of his mouth before he descends on you again, this time laying the entirety of his body against you. It’s all you can do to desperately follow the movement of his lips, the rocking his hips — and you’re clutching at his arms all the while, mind dizzied and chest heaving. You’re liable to let him have his way with you just like this, with your legs around his waist and your ankles pressing against his ass, but—
“Wait, I—” Panting, your grip on his biceps tightens, and you frown up at him— “I wanted to be on top, y’know. I wanted to give you a break.”
His laugh is gentle, breathy. In the haze of the morning every sharp edge of him is cotton-soft, his hair this honey sort of blonde wherever the light hits it — mind twisting juxtaposition to the red-hot pleasure broiling in the pit of your tummy. “It’s a husband's duty to worship his wife, is it not?”
“I—” His head dips to the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your skin in such a way that you shiver in his grasp. It’s sweet and indulgent and him, all him; his weight atop you, his hands on you, his scent around you. “I… Oh, You’re playing dirty, Kento.”
His answer is a hum that reverberates all throughout you. “Am I?”
You’re not expected to answer, and you doubt you have enough control over your muscles to do so, because just as you open your mouth, his fingers slip underneath your panties and slip over the hot, slick skin of your pussy. He’s always purposeful with you, and this time is no different — he does not fumble and flounder, unsure of where to put his hands. He has learned you well enough to know what brings you pleasure, and oh, does he want to bring you pleasure. He makes a glutton of you; gives you far too much, buys into your every whim. He can’t help himself.
You’re wet enough that he can slip a finger in with little difficulty — embarrassingly little difficulty, and you squeak as he slides it all in at one go. His fingers are thick, that goes without saying, but what makes Kento especially dangerous is his skill. He’s too attentive — watches everything, notes every shiver, the pitch of your voice when you whimper his name. He knows just what he needs to do to make you lose your mind — at that, as if he’s read your mind, another finger joins the first, jutting upwards to grind against that spongy spot that makes your legs jerk.
“O—oh,” you breathe, “That’s — okay, that’s good.”
“Is it?” Kento sounds far too amused for your liking, but you’re hardly in a position to scold him, not with your legs spread and your hips rolling up into his hand. “You're like wet velvet.”
“Don’t say things like that!” You whine, slapping a hand over your face. Your cheeks are red-hot, and it only adds to the overwhelming overstimulation — the sheets and Kento against your skin, the coolness of the pillows beneath your neck, the sounds that leave nothing to the imagination.
Sometimes you can’t believe your luck. Almost every partner before him was his complete and utter opposite, caring little for your pleasure and simply using you as a means to an end, but — with Kento, it’s so different. He centres you in everything. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, especially when he wants only for you to lay there and do nothing. It’s hard not to feel a bit lazy, like you have to offer something in return — he says you’ve already given him everything he wants, and it’s enough to make you scream. You suppose you have little to complain about, though, considering you’re regularly being fucked through the mattress.
When you gain enough lucidity to unscrew your eyes, he’s already watching you — like you knew he would be. Somewhere along the way Kento had migrated from on top of you to beside you; he propped himself above you on one elbow, cradling your head. If you were to only glance at him, you’d think him wholly unaffected by your whining, squirming self — but you allow yourself a stare, and are pleased to find the tips of his ears pink and flushed.
“I wanted to take my time,” says Kento, as if reading your mind. “But I’m too impatient when it comes to you.”
“I don’t mind,” you say — breathe — adding: “We have the whole day. You can fuck me slow later.”
It’s as if he was waiting for you to say it. Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth he’s pushing himself up, gently slipping his fingers out of you. You mourn their loss, but you know you won’t be untended for long. Sure enough, he pulls off the sweatpants and briefs that hang low at his hips, and settles himself between your legs once more. His cock is hot and heavy against you, pressed right between your lips, and you shiver as it’s nudged right against your swollen clit — but nothing more. Not yet.
Kento has endless patience — or so it may seem. His impatience, though rare, manifests itself only in his accidental roughness — as if he doesn't know his own strength. Your legs parted with strong hands, your body tugged further down the bed before you can even register the movement... Still, despite such impatience, he takes the time to rest the tips of his fingers against the shiny plushness of your bottom lip. He watches with sharpened eyes as your mouth opens and accepts them in, your tongue all too eager to lave over them, licking over the tanginess of your own juices. His voice is laboured — almost hoarse — when he breathes: “You’re vulgar.”
With a pop, his fingers are removed, glossy and wet and slimy. He wipes them on the blanket as you huff: “You put them there.”
His large hands grasp the back of your knees and push your legs up, until they hook high up on his waist and around him. “Because I knew you were vulgar enough to take them in your mouth.”
“Touché. But—”
Kento’s lips silence any half-baked argument that was about to leave you — this kiss is gentle, almost innocent. Somehow it’s enough to make your cheeks heat up more than any other racy gesture he’s shown you thus far. It’s made even worse when he reaches across your chest to intertwine your fingers — both hands housing a wedding ring.
(And it’s not surprising how romantic he is. Perhaps when you first started dating you were convinced that his blunt mannerisms and professionalism would extend to every facet of his life — and in many ways, it does. He’s the perfect gentleman in public, hands never straying too low, words rarely crossing the boundaries of polite-speak. But here, in your marriage bed, with more than a measly three hours of sleep and the sun casting shadows across your bodies, Kento is softened. Whatever exists outside your room that scares him so much no longer has any place in his mind.)
“I’m going to make love to you now,” he says. It’s just above a whisper, heated and heady against your lips. The gravel in his voice that had attracted you from the moment he’d opened his mouth is enough to make your knees turn to jelly — lucky, then, that they’re kept compacted by the barrel of his torso. “Is that okay?”
Your brain short circuits. Any smart comment or cheeky quip you could respond with is lost, and you’re left staring up at him, wide-eyed and willing. “Yes, please.”
His lips twitch upwards, the ghost of a smile, but he doesn’t attempt to tease — simply connects your lips again, and guides himself to your entrance with that free hand of his. The blunt head of his cock is silky smooth and slippery with your arousal, and barely catches on you before it presses in — the stretch dull and only slightly uncomfortable, but entirely familiar. It’s like stepping into a warm shower after a cold day — not just sexual, not just to scratch an itch or a means to an end — it’s this. Feeling the heat of him inside you; the way his breath catches in his throat as you squeeze around him. Knowing that you’re the only person in the world who has the privilege of having him like this.
It’s with a breathless sigh that he bottoms out inside you, hips flush against yours. On either side of your head, his arms bulge with the weight of his own body, muscles hardened and tensed — and as his hips begin to move, that neatly trimmed patch of hair around his cock grinding against his clit, you can’t help but reach out, anchoring yourself to them. There’s little else you can do except lay there and take it, shuddering all the while, mouth agape in wonder.
“Is this — okay?” Kento asks. His voice is strained, and you try to hide the smug smile it elicits in the bulk of his arm — there’s no point. He’s far too focused on staring at where he splits you open, anyways, watching how your lips split around him, crested by the sweet little pearl of your clit. And he calls you vulgar.
“Mhm. You can — you can go faster, if you want.”
A laugh. “If I want, hm?”
“Please, Kento,” you whine, humping up towards him. It’s embarrassing how much he makes you want him. It should be, at least, though you find you’ve gotten a little shameless as of late — shameless enough to press your feet hard against his ass, pulling him in deeper. “Don’t make me wait.”
Never let anyone proclaim he doesn’t treat you right, because at your request, he does just that. His pace quickens, pulling out to the tip and slamming all the way back in — the rhythm straightens out quickly, and that’ll be your downfall. If it isn’t enough that his hips grind down against your clit with every thrust, Kento (predictably) knows how to use his cock. The mushroom shaped head bullies against your g-spot in that dizzying rhythm — back, forth, back, forth, building you up until you’re gasping for air.
You wonder if it’s like this for everyone. You wonder if everyone in the world is lucky enough to find someone who fits them this perfectly, who listens to them this intently, who isn’t afraid to show such unerring devotion. You wonder if you will ever feel safer, more loved, than you do when you’re in his arms — if you will ever feel such deep, persistent pleasure at the hands of another. Then again, what good does wondering do? When you have all you need at your disposal, there’s little need for wondering. When you’re taken care of so thoroughly, there’s little need for anything else. And God, are you being taken care of.
“Oh — fuck, Ken, I’m—” Words escape you. All that matters is that building heat, the involuntary trembles of your walls around him, the electricity zipping from neuron to neuron; his eyes on you, the furrow of his brow, the comforting weight of him pressing you down. It’s all so much. You could lose your mind. You are losing your mind. “I’m—”
You can’t even finish the sentence. All you know is that your toes curl and your back arches and you squeeze his arms a little too hard but you can’t control it, you can’t control anything, not the way you’re squeezing him in a vice grip, not the way you’re dripping down around his cock, wet and sticky and messy—
“That’s it,” Kento urges, voice ragged as he fucks you through it. Through hazy eyes you see him — strands of hair hanging low over his face, his skin dewy with sweat. Ruined. “Good, that’s it. There you go — damn it—”
When he cums, he very nearly collapses on you, breathing heavily and sweat dripping from his brow. He presses himself to the hilt — of course he does, he can’t help himself — panting lowly as he thrusts with every wave of his orgasm. You can feel him against your cervix, that once-strange sensation of being filled.
In the midst of his pleasure, and fortified by his fatigue, his movements begin to slow. It’s that inevitable syrupy slowness that comes after an orgasm, where desperation is eventually traded for an easy languidness. His head bows to place a sloppy, messy kiss on your mouth, one he’d normally eschew, and you accept it with all the eagerness of a woman in love. One, two, three — another one to your cheek, then, and then to your brow.
That frantic, charged energy finally slips away. Kento holds you tightly to him — he always does, when all is said and done — but something about the way he’s hunched over you makes your stomach twist. You don’t know what is — some sixth sense, perhaps, that blooms into a sense of dread in your chest. The supernatural powers of a wife to know when there’s something wrong with her husband, and coupled with his demeanour the previous night...
“Kento,” you whisper, petting your hands over your head. “Is everything alright?”
“Mm.” A beat of silence, before he pushes himself up again, and — with some difficulty — pulls himself out of you. He kisses your forehead and sits himself up, sheets pooled around the hard lines of his abdomen. With worried eyes you watch as he reaches for his glasses, and then the wristwatch he’d left on the bedside table last night (almost 800,000 yen, one of the few things he’s splurged on himself) and deftly begins to clip it on. He's still avoiding your eyes when, at last, he says: “I… I was thinking of changing jobs.”
You shoot up — or sit up, rather, with what little energy you have left. “Hm? Oh, Kento, that’s wonderful!”
“Mm. It is.” But something’s bothering him. He doesn’t sound as elated as he should, considering he despises the job that he currently has. “It’s a smaller agency. An old… friend of mine runs it. The work is hard, but I won’t have to work much overtime, and… well, it’s better work, I suppose.”
You run a comforting hand over his covered thigh. “But?”
Kento exhales, slow and tired. “But I thought I left that work behind a long time ago.”
You shift, humming to yourself thoughtfully. “The work is hard, you say?”
He nods. “But… rewarding.”
“Hm. Well, I don’t know too much about finance, but I think that as long as it gives you purpose, it’s good, right?”
His head falls back against the headboard, and tired eyes trail over you. “It’s so simple for you.”
“Well, one of us has to simplify stuff, and I doubt it’ll be you. Look — you hate your job now, don’t you?”
“...Mm.”
“Then change it,” you say, rolling over on your side to face him. Your features soften at the sight of him — uncharacteristically unsure of himself, staring at his hands with furrowed brows. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so deeply torn, but then again, you know how hard he’s worked for this job. His career — especially before you met him — was of the utmost importance to him. Money, money, and more money. That’s what he’d told you. He was obsessive. He slept even less than he does now, barely used the fancy apartment he paid extortionate rent for... How do you turn your back on years and years of commitment, of obsession?
You reach a hand up and take his hand in yours once more. The silver of your rings glint and glimmer in the morning light, the garnet stone in the centre of yours a bloody red.
“For better or for worse, Kento,” you say quietly. “That’s what we promised. Whatever you choose to do, I’ll be here with you through it all.”
He doesn’t say anything, just smiles that one smile of his — the small, wistful, sad one. The one that hints at a far more tragic past than he’s let on, one of misfortune and melancholy. That’s okay. He doesn’t have to tell you, and you would never press him to. In much the same way, you pretend not to see the glassiness of his eyes when he raises your joined hands to his lips, and pretend not to hear the lump in his throat when he tells you he loves you — dearly, more than life itself.
"Yeah, yeah," you say, smiling. "Just don't forget about that retirement to Malaysia, okay? I want a beach house."
He huffs a laugh, and the cast of despondency shatters. Then, a thoughtful hum. "Mm. A beach house... that sounds good."
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Mistakes
Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)
Wordcount: 6.4k
Rating: E
Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood
A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao
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It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.
People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on. 
Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely. 
The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy. 
But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name. 
If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy. 
It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life. 
Tommy, Joel and you grew up together. 
When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water. 
The little shit. 
Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief. 
And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you. 
It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point. 
You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl. 
God, you had been so heartbroken back then. 
He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot. 
It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again. 
Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend. 
You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father. 
He had been scared but so happy. 
And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own. 
Sarah was his whole world. 
Until the world ended. 
The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again. 
Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.
Until he left without a word. 
Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces. 
“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off. 
He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller. 
Joel had found him. 
His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief. 
For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?
You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving. 
You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again. 
“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind. 
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You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry. 
Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously. 
The nerve he had. 
Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father. 
You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it. 
You could only imagine what he had told her.
He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make. 
You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode. 
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Of course life had other plans. 
You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel. 
“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.
“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.  
“So then you understand my concern.”
“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him. 
“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes. 
“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” 
You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair. 
“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you. 
“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow. 
“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down. 
“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. 
“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said. 
You scoffed. 
“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”
“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.
“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you. 
“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed. 
“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”
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“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots. 
“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled. 
“I know the feelin’,” he sighed. 
You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes. 
You felt his lips on your temple. 
„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head. 
„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled. 
„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.
You both sat there in silence for a moment. 
„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him. 
„What do you mean?“ 
He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes. 
„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly. 
You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.
„What kinda dreams?“
„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking. 
„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks. 
„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.
„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position. 
„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder. 
„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head. 
„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled. 
He said your name, pleading but you shook your head. 
„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away. 
You took a deep breath. 
„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him. 
„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down. 
You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you. 
You just walked faster, not bothering to stop. 
„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much. 
„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him. 
„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house. 
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You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open. 
You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road. 
She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by. 
You were broken, you had been for a long time. 
The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel. 
He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you. 
He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left. 
He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.
He was always there. 
And along the way you fell in love with him. 
You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you. 
It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips. 
„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you. 
When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.  
„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down. 
„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head. 
„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“
„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath. 
Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours. 
„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded. 
„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.
He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back. 
„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.
„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you. 
Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants. 
He stopped you before you could get any further. 
„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead. 
„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours. 
Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs. 
His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching. 
„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.
He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.
„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you. 
No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply. 
He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him. 
He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach. 
He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep. 
While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him. 
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You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise. 
You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag. 
You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.
You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.
Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in. 
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The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside. 
Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon. 
„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty. 
A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel. 
Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in. 
Empty. 
Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake. 
Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you. 
Tears were springing into your eyes.
He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?
Not after he….
A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words. 
„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered. 
Tommy only nodded. 
Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly. 
„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“
You scoffed. 
„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.
He said your name, almost pleading. 
„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“
You wanted to tell him then. 
To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were. 
Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you. 
And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet. 
It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him. 
„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said. 
„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him. 
„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff. 
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An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened. 
„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked. 
„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you. 
As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.
„I know you love him,“ he startled you. 
„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you. 
„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson. 
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The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it. 
You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them. 
It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.
You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse. 
You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you. 
You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob. 
It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.
And he was not awake.
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„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit. 
Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you. 
„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“
You were closer to the university than you thought then.
You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.
Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound. 
He didn’t even stir. 
„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“
„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes. 
„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could. 
She mirrored you.
„Can I help?“ Ellie asked. 
„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.
„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs. 
You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in. 
„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open. 
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It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.
But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here. 
You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it. 
It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips. 
You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up. 
It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop. 
Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them. 
A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.
„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek. 
„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly. 
„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.
„Ellie?“ He asked. 
„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly. 
„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head. 
„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head. 
„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted. 
„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin. 
The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes. 
„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.
„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage. 
The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door. 
You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house. 
You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body. 
„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping. 
They were looking for Joel.
For Joel and Ellie. 
You had to get out of here. 
You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.
Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.
The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived. 
Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room. 
„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“
„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 
„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot. 
You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected. 
„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.
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It was a four day ride back to Jackson.
Four days that felt like four weeks. 
Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.
You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse. 
On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. 
It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel. 
More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it. 
When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight. 
But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out. 
The next hours were a blur. 
You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in,  your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room. 
Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating. 
You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes. 
Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you. 
„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer. 
„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you. 
„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man. 
„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin. 
„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.
„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.
„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.
„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh. 
„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room. 
It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy. 
Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.
„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers. 
For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.
„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in. 
„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded. 
„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed. 
„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered. 
„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded. 
„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again. 
„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left. 
„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you. 
„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath. 
„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained. 
„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered. 
„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked. 
„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek. 
He looked wrecked.
„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair. 
You shrugged. 
„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow. 
„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again. 
„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile. 
„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you. 
You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent. 
„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep. 
„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead. 
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Six weeks later
„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.
„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle. 
„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder. 
„Why do I have to learn it then?“
„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing. 
„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake. 
„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.
„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat. 
„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her. 
„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck. 
„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck. 
One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast. 
„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck. 
„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter. 
„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass. 
„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled. 
„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom. 
483 notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Text
𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 || dark!joel miller x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || he told you he'd never let you go, but it hadn't sounded like a threat at the time— it sounded like pillow talk, like sweet nothings. you should've believed him; you should've known escape wasn't an option from a man like joel miller.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || a bit over 3k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || smut (18+ only; noncon/heavy dubcon, bondage, forced breeding), stalking/yandere, possessiveness, past/described character death, "bunny" as a pet name (with a couple "baby"s and "babygirl"s in there), angst, gaslighting/manipulation
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“How’d you find me here?”
His face was straight and stoic.  Last time, he’d smirked when you asked that— like he was proud of himself.  Now, he was just tired.  Tired of chasing you, tired of your constant yet fruitless search for freedom. 
Tired, and angry.
“I’m persistent,” was his flat reply.
“Well, doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, “doesn’t change anything— same as before, it’s over.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” you shot back instantly, “and I’m not explaining this shit you again.  You don’t fucking own me.”
“So all those things you said— that we said?” Joel hissed, stepping forward, making you feel cornered in your own tiny room.  It wasn’t much, but it was your own, and you loved it for that.  You’d spent the last month making it feel like home, and now you’d have to leave it all again, have to run from him again.  “What was that, then? All just bullshit?”
“I— that was a different time, I was a different person,” you sighed.  “So were you.”
“Said you loved me,” he recalled.
“I didn’t even know you,” you snapped.  “You aren’t who I thought you were…”
He stepped up to you again, and you reached for your belt— but he grabbed your wrist before you could grab the knife.  “Whatcha gonna do with that, bunny?” he cooed, sickly-sweet.
“Don’t call me that,” you whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his grasp but only hurting your wrist more.  “You can’t call me that anymore…”
“Gonna hurt me, bunny?” he continued, pulling you closer until you had to bite down on your shaking lip— you didn’t want him to see you cry, again.  Because even after everything, when you cried, you still wanted him most— you still craved his comfort, even knowing that it was all lies.  He was sick and twisted, you knew that, but he looked just like the man you fell in love with— he smelled like him, he had his warmth and strength, and your body sometimes longed to wrapped up in his arms again even if your heart ached remembering what he’d done.  “Y’already hurt me as bad as you ever could.  And I still love you.”
You shook your head, tears starting to roll, as he pressed his face against your head and took in a deep breath beside your hair.  “You never l-loved me,” you hiccuped, “you don’t— you don’t do what you did to people you love—”
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he defended, “just made sure nobody would try to keep us apart, s’all.  M’sorry for what happened to your brother, too, but you know I only did what I had to.”
“Shut up,” you pleaded, trying to pull away again.
“You know he stepped up on me,” he continued anyways, “you know he said I couldn’t be trusted, that I wasn’t good enough for you— and I couldn’t just let him say that shit.”
“Stop, stop talking,” you begged, shutting your eyes tight and trying so hard not to see it again— your brother on the ground, his face red and bruises already forming on his neck, Joel standing over him catching his breath.  “Y-you just did it b-because he was all I had left,” you said, mostly reminding yourself.  “That was the only reason my brother died.  Because you needed to be the only thing I loved.”
“He was a piece of shit!” Joel barked, making you cry harder.  “He was nothing, okay?  I’m your everything—”
“No, no—”
“You said that!  And he was gonna try to take you away from me!”
“Because I told him I was scared of you,” you explained.
“So it’s your fault— you killed him,” Joel insisted as you tried to cover your face with your spare hand.  “Shouldn’t’ve told him that, bunny… shouldn’t’ve let him try to steal you, you know I couldn’t let you go— you know I can’t let go of what’s mine…”
He always got in your head so quickly; he'd carefully built his control over your mind in the year you'd been together, and it took a while to break out of it once you'd left.  But even still, you'd never stopped looking over your shoulder— every time he tracked you down, you made another escape and started all over.  But it didn't usually last too long.
“That’s why I’m just gonna keep finding you, bunny.  ‘Cause you’re mine.  So will you just stop runnin’ from me?”
You tried to take a deep breath, fighting to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but it all still came out as a shaky whisper: “I’m not… I’m not yours anymore,” you informed him weakly.
“Let me tell you somethin’,” he said— calm at first, but suddenly getting angrier as he sneered and yanked you closer.  “Somethin’ you’re gonna be better off the sooner you accept it: you’ll always be mine.”
You whimpered as he spun you around, embracing you— or was he constricting you? — as your back pressed against his broad chest.
"Need me to remind you?" he purred in your ear, and you struggled harder against his grip.
"No, Joel— don't—" you pleaded.
"Need to remember who you belong to?" he pressed again, reaching down to start unbuttoning your jeans.  "M'gonna help you, bunny, it's okay— you're not gonna forget again."
"Please," you whined, shivering when he started to tug your pants down— it was cold in here, and even his warm fingers weren't enough when the draft hit your bare thighs.  "Joel, don't have to do this— let's just talk, we can talk—"
"Too late for that," he shook his head, groaning as he cupped your sex in his rough hand.  "Tried to talk to you already, when we talk you start fuckin' lyin' to me— callin' me a monster just 'cause I love you.  Sayin' you don't love me anymore… but your body doesn't lie, baby, feel that?"
He'd pushed your panties down and was sliding his fingers between your lips, purring as he roughly explored the slick folds of skin.  Your stomach sank and your chest felt hollow— even with everything he'd done, you never thought he'd do this to you…
"Oh, fuckin' wet," he noticed with a sickening grin that you could hear in his voice.  You turned your face away but he grabbed it with his free hand and turned you back to look at him.  "Kiss me," he ordered.
Slamming his lips on yours, you whined and tried to pull away.  He kept kissing you anyways, lips and tongue overwhelming yours, indifferent to your resistance.
"Don't be like that, bunny," he pouted when you managed to wrench your head back— he started kissing your jaw and neck next, rubbing circles on your clit with two fingers.  "You just need to remember how good it is to be mine— just relax, baby, just let me help you—"
But when you tried to kick at his legs, a desperate attempt for a chance to flee, he got angry again and threw you face-down onto your bed.
"Please, don't," you sobbed, but he was already behind you, grabbing your wrists and holding them down over your head.
You cried harder when he let go with one hand, and you heard the slide of leather on denim as he took his belt off.
Crying harder, you felt him lean over you and wrap the belt around your wrists, tying them together tightly.  You were begging incoherently, too scared to try to fight against the leather on your wrists but hating how it felt to be restrained (especially in such a crude way).
A moment later, he tugged you down so that you were bent over the side of the bed while he stood behind you, and he started to open his own jeans.
A shudder crawled over you when you felt his cock rub up against your ass, a low groan coming from behind you as he ran his hand over your back— maybe just to touch you, maybe to hold you down.
"Joel, I'm sorry," you whispered, "I'm sorry, I won't leave again, I swear…"
He hummed happily, but didn't stop.
"Just please stop," you requested weakly.  "I'll be yours again, but you— you're hurting me…"
"Only 'cause you made me," he accused with a growl.  "If this is what you need to know whose you are, then I'm gonna hurt you."
"No— you don't need to do that, I-I know now, I swear…"
You heard him spit, then the wet sounds of him spreading the fluid on his cock, and you buried your face in the sheets.  "It's gonna be okay, bunny," he promised, just before he shoved himself inside you.
He used to be so tender, so delicate with you.  For all his mood swings and violent tendencies, he'd always made love to you so sweetly.  You couldn't believe that was the same man as the one holding you down now, forcing his cock deeper and grunting loudly as you whined in pain. 
"You can take it," he informed you coldly, already moving far too fast and slamming to the deepest parts of you each time.  "Same dick you used to beg for all the time, don't act so fuckin' hurt when I know you like this."
His hands moved to your shoulders, holding them tightly as he found his pace; you heard every moan, every heavy breath, even though you wanted so much to try to ignore it all.  The most difficult thing to ignore, of course, was how it felt: the sting of being stretched around him, the soreness where he dug his fingers into your skin, the sick pleasure you hated yourself for noticing.
"God, I missed this," he groaned.  "Missed having this little pussy around me— I'm gonna make you feel so good, bunny, gonna take care of you like I promised."
He laid himself down over you, pressing you down deeper into the mattress, and spoke right by your ear.
"Used to say nobody else ever made you feel like I did," he purred.  "You remember that?  Was that even true, or were you a liar then, too?"
"N-no, I never lied to you, Joel," you tried to defend yourself— but then he moved his hips just right and forced you to take even more of him than you thought possible, and your voice fell into a whine.
"What about when you said we'd always be together, huh?" he prompted with disdain in his voice.  "I told you I needed you, bunny.  M'fuckin' nothin' without you, you know that— and then you left me.  How could you break my heart like that, babygirl?"
"I'm sorry," you cried, "I-I was just scared… you… you killed my brother, Joel.  I hate you for that."
"I know," he soothed, "I know— but I can't lose you.  I'm sorry, bunny, I can't let you go."
Unfortunately, that you knew; and in a way, you understood.  You just wished this wasn't your fate, that you might have a chance to be free— that just wasn't in the cards for the girl Joel Miller loved.  He'd let a lot of things slip away from him in this life and you were not going to be next on that list.
After a while, it started to feel familiar; it reminded you of how it used to be, when things felt so simple and you had no idea what was around the corner.  Your body relaxed under his, your legs stopped flailing and your grip on the sheets loosened… you went limp, the struggle leaving you as another instinct took over.
Slipping his arms under you, he held you tightly, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.  The sickest part was how easy it was to let his praises wash over you.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispered to you, “that’s my good bunny— just like that, lemme take care a’you…”
All your energy was focused on not letting him hear how it affected you, how easily he could reclaim your body.  You’d been running for months— almost two since you’d seen him last, when he tracked you down to Michigan and you only got away cause you had a friend with a car— and he had you back under his thumb in minutes.  Maybe he was right: you’d always be his, no matter what anyone did.  Even your own brother couldn’t save you.
“I betcha missed me, too,” Joel mumbled in your ear.  “Betcha got lonely, huh, bunny?  I’m here now, never letting you go again, I swear— can’t live without you… we need each other.  You need me.”
It was so strange to you, how he could sound so sweet and then so livid in just a moment.
“Just admit it, baby,” he encouraged— but it was an order, you weren’t too far gone to know that.
“I need you,” you whispered hoarsely.
“Louder,” he demanded.
“I ne—” you choked, having to stop and start over because your voice was broken from crying.  “I need you, Joel.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, and his thrusts picked up in speed.  You could hear the sound of skin slapping on skin— of your wet channel betraying the way you actually did need him.  “Yeah, fuck,” he repeated, “s’my girl… always ready for me, huh?  Such a needy fuckin’ pussy y’got…”
He was moving harder and faster than ever, but his thrusts were more shallow than before— he usually started by savoring you, pulling out to the very tip and sliding back in so he could feel you on every inch of his cock.  But then he got into this sort of mood, where he could barely bring himself to pull out at all— said it felt too good inside you to leave— and so it was more like grinding, staying deep in you and letting just the base of him thrust in and out.  It was so deep it made your head spin, but you couldn’t do anything but lay there.  Lay there and realize that it was too late to stop him, or to stop yourself from what was about to happen.
You hoped if you didn't make a sound, he wouldn't notice.  You used to always tell him when you were coming, because he told you to: coming, Joel, you're gonna make me come— please don't stop—
But he noticed, even without all that fanfare.  Even if only a suppressed whine echoed in your throat, he felt the way your body reacted when he brought you to the peak.
"Mm," he hummed proudly, "y'see?  See how your body remembers?  Fuck, love feelin' it when ya come, babydoll.  Love feeling that li'l cunt squeeze me."
After you’d come, though, you became far too sensitive— everything was just too much, all at once, and your whole body began to shake.  He didn’t slow down, he wasn’t fazed at all, but you were so overcome you could barely choke out your plea for mercy: “J-Joel, please… s’too much, I jus’... I need a second—”
“Shh,” he interrupted.  “Still teachin’ you your lesson, bunny.”
“No, fuck,” you gasped, “Joel, I… I can’t…”
“Can’t take it?” he finished for you.  “Can’t take any more of this?  This is what you wanted, though.  Isn’t that why you made me come all this way?  Made me chase you all over the fuckin’ country just so I could get my girl back?
"I won't leave Joel, just stop—"
"I know," he groaned.  "I know you won't leave me again, especially when you're pregnant."
"What?  Joel, no—"
"Shh, shh," he soothed, gripping your hips tighter.
"Joel, don't—"
Your begs were accompanied by your shaking hands trying to somehow wiggle their way out of the belt, but both were useless.  He was so much stronger, his weight kept you pinned so easily that you felt like you couldn't breathe; his hips drove into yours over and over, every movement like another punch to the gut and a stab to the heart.  “Just take it, baby,” he demanded, though the tone of his voice was sweet— rough, but sweet.  “Just trust me.”
I don’t trust you, you wanted to scream, I can’t trust you.  But it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway, if you could even pull yourself together enough to speak.
"We're gonna be together, like you said," he promised, his voice a deep growl as he fought his way to the peak of pleasure, slamming into you ruthlessly.  "Me an' you, and our baby.  Gonna make you so happy, bunny, gonna take care of you— and we're gonna be a family—"
"Please,” you breathed, “let's just— just talk about this first…"
"And you'll be mine forever, y'hear me?  You're never gonna try to fuckin' leave again."
You shook your head, exhausted and overwhelmed and giving in completely to the fact that he did own you, even after you insisted that he didn't.
"Say it."
"I won't try to leave you again," you promised, the words like poison in your throat but music to his ears.  "I love you, Joel… you know I love you…"
"I love you too, bunny," he returned, holding onto you tighter.  "So much— more than you can imagine."
You were numb, barely in reality, as he filled you; you could feel his cock flexing inside you and you hated the way it made your walls pulse— it showed how your body craved what your mind feared.  
“Baby…” he groaned, that heavy satisfaction in his voice as he sunk down on top of you.  You’d been waiting for him to pull out, disgusted that he was still inside you and hoping that you could sneak off to the bathroom to try to clean yourself out; but, he stayed inside, and relaxed even further as he stayed laying on top of you.
Staring off into space, you tried to shut your eyes but it burned.  So you just blinked through the pain and wished against everything that this was some horrible dream.
If it was, it felt more real than anything ever had.  He kissed your face gently, wiping the last of your tears away with his thumb.  "Shh, it's okay, little bunny… everything's gonna be okay now," he soothed in a whisper.  “You won’t have to be alone anymore.  It’s gonna be how it’s supposed to— how we said it would: you and me, forever.  Okay?”
It wasn’t a dream, but the way you spoke and moved without even thinking first sort of felt like one; “Okay,” you mumbled weakly as you nodded.
He smiled proudly down at you.  “Now let’s get you home, bunny.”
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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months
Text
pretty
hobie x reader
summary: you wake up with a nasty hangover. you know the rest.
wc: ~500
A/N: if I'm using UK slang wrong pls beat my ass about it I tried 💀
Edit: made minor edits bc I did, in fact, use UK slang wrong 👍🏾
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The light from the morning sun bounces off of the peeling white paint on the surrounding walls of the tiny apartment, forcing you to open your eyes. You squint as they adjust; It feels like someone is currently inside your head and repeatedly taking a sledgehammer to your skull.
The familiar cracked corners of the ceiling tell you that you're at Hobie's place. You grunt as you lift yourself into a sitting position, which doesn't help the headache.
What does, though, is the smell of cinnamon and cornmeal wafting beneath your nose from the kitchen. The sudden rumbling in your stomach makes you curious enough to swing your legs off of the couch and rise to your feet.
Bad idea.
Hobie enters the room just as you stumble backwards onto the couch, and barely holds back a loud cackle so that he doesn't drop the two bowls of porridge he'd just made.
You don't see it, of course, because the ceiling is currently spinning.
"Not so fun dealing with those fourteen shots the morning after, eh?"
Hobie's diamond-shaped face came into view, his wicks sticking out from every direction like the halos in those medieval paintings he liked to make fun of. He'd replaced his vest and usual get-up with a white tank top.
You groan, "How long was I out?"
" 'Bout twelve hours,"
Hobie set the two bowls down on the coffee table in front of you. "Had to call a cab just to get you here all in one piece."
You finally look down once you feel the couch sink next to you. He smells of hard soap and nutmeg.
"You cook?"
He shrugs, picking up his bowl and shoveling the contents into his mouth. He nods, deeming his work satisfactory.
"From time to time," he glances at you from the corner of his eye. "You don't get over a hangover on an empty stomach, yeah?"
He chuckles when you immediately grab your bowl without a word, and soon begin to absolutely destroy it.
Just as Hobie said, the hammering has begun to subside by the time you scrape the last bit of golden liquid from the bowl. He still has yet to finish his own meal, so you watch him.
You silently admire the way his lashes almost brush his cheek when his eyes are downcast. The sunrise reflected off of mahogany-smooth skin, and you envy how he did almost nothing to it to get it that way.
"You're pretty," you think out loud, and Hobie nearly chokes on his porridge before his head snaps to face you.
"S-sorry, who?"
Your brows shoot up on surprise momentarily, unaware that he'd actually heard you. There was no one else you could have possibly been referring to, giving you no choice but to double down.
You laugh nervously, “Well, you are.”
His full lips quirked up at the corners, as if he was trying to figure out if this was a bit or not. But you kept staring at him, no joke in your expression.
“Yeah, I think you’re still hammered, man.”
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anadiasmount · 23 days
Note
TEACHING JUDE HOW TO PERREAR AAA (because you know there’s nothing worse than having a guy just loosely holding onto your hips and looking up at the ceiling as if he doesn’t want to be there) he’s so mesmerized by the way you move your hips but he knows he has to grip onto your hips and grind back and when he gets the hang of it it’s just 😮‍💨😮‍💨
salió el sol is the song i immediately thought of… it’s very much suitable for this blurb 🤭🤭
he had seen you outside waiting in line, watching how you made your friends laugh and danced a bit from the music that played inside the club. he watched you yet again when you walked into the place like you owned it, hair silky, tiny black lace dress, and those high heels that made your appearance like a sexy super model. all it took once eye glance and jude was hooked.
him watching you the entire night as you expertly played and gambled in poker, drank many shots to which you couldn’t get drunk off on, take pictures with your friends and even at one point working the dj booth. oh but don’t get started when the music switched from old r&b to old school reggeaton.
how you jumped from your spot and fixed your dress, throwing your hair back as you walked hand to hand with your friend down to the dance floor, so far yet so close from the vip booths. “where you going?” asked aurelien, patting the midfielder shoulder as he walked off. “gonna step here real quick, wanna see the crowd…” jude shrugged him off, determined to at least catch you, maybe even offer you a drink.
jude could sense you knew how to dance but not so explicitly and intimidating like this. a hand in your hair, shaking your hips side to side with knee bent, then throwing it back onto your friend, ass shaking as you came up with a sly and clever grin. jude locked his lips, leaning onto the railing, continuing to observe you, how you sensually rolled your hips, threw your head back almost in pleasure, your bottom lip between your teeth as you smirked and danced. a fucking expert… jude thought.
he couldn’t shake off the feeling your radiated. the whole club with their eyes on you. you were the show tonight, and he sure as hell loved it. his fingers gripped tight on his glass as he downed his final sip, not denying how gorgeous you were. jude was mesmerized, by you. and he wanted just a little taste even if he didn’t know how to dance himself.
at one point you had looked up locking eyes with the stranger who couldn’t keep their gaze off you tonight. your friend giving you an ‘i told you so’ look when you told her. “starting to get a little creepy don’t you think?” she spoke loudly as you continued to move your hips and ass to ‘baila morena’ that rang loudly in the club. you could feel the beat, the rhythm, the passion, all in every single song. you felt confident and even more so sexy.
“you’re wrong… the night is just getting started!” you wink at her, grabbing her hand and initiating for her to throw it back on you, hyping her every move as chants and praises were heard in the back from your friends and newer strangers.
time passed, your feet a tad bit sore after dancing for almost an hour. you sat at the bar, quietly stirring your drink with the thin black straw with legs crossed. you sense a familiar stare across from you, smiling at the stranger once again. “rude to stare no?” you’re quick to remark, earning a chuckle and him walking to you. “how so?” he said confidently, leaning against the bar with one arm.
“you’ve stared at me the whole night, like some shy boy in a corner, when deep down we both know what you want…” you cocked your brow up, taking a sip of your drink before turning slightly to face him. jude acknowledged you with a knowing nod. “will it still be rude if i ask to buy you a drink?” he offers, hearing how you laughed.
“not at all…”
“i’m jude,” he introduced. he extends his hand to shake yours, your hands fitting like puzzle pieces, “y/n… encantada.”
“i have to say… you’re an excellent dancer,” jude said, making you look up with a look. “quite a show you put on i must say…”
“jealous?”
“not particularly,” jude shrugged.
“then follow me,” you stood up, grabbing his hand once again before he stops you. “w-wait, i -i don’t know how to dance…” he shyly admits. “well you said so yourself, im an excellent dancer? i’ll teach you,” you guided him to the dance floor, cheering when you hear “salió el sol’ by don omar playing in the dj booth.
“first things first is, you can’t be stiff, let the music flow through your veins,” you advised, smiling as you grabbed on to his shoulders and lead him deeper the crowd. “second, it’s all in the hips, if you can’t move them, then it will suck…” you winked, jude giving you a half grin.
ella lo vuelve loco como se menea, bailando pura candela, lo vuelve loco cuando se acelera, y pela
you show him by circling your hips, guiding his hands to grip and feel as they moved. jude feels his pulse on his wrists quicken, the affect you have on him slowly turning him on, not being able to resist and pull you closer. his feet widen a bit, shocking you as you went between them, continuing your slow movement as you gently grinded on him, feeling his prominent abs as you did.
y yo quiero saber cómo es que baila la julieta… julieta baila sexy con la mano en la cabeza
you turned slowly, your back against his chest as jude dragged his hands along your sides. “you sure you don’t know?” you tease, a bit shocked at how quickly he was learning. “yep… have the best teacher on me currently,” you feel his lips trace your ear, your ass on his crotch as you continued to move your hips now more taunting. “dancing so confident… so sexy…”
you close your eyes, head thrown back on his shoulder, a hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck, the other interlocking with the his that circled your waist. “am i doing right?” jude closed the last bit of space, grinding and bucking his hips with yours so sensually, so hot. jude resists the groan escaping his lips as you whimpered softly.
“doing so good jude…”
the two of you are under a spell, bodies contracting and moving flowy. the different shades of light, the music, the tension, it’s all to much, yet you can’t seem to pull away even when you both lose control and are out of sync. jude’s head nestled into you neck as you feel his hard cock on your ass, his hand low on your abdomen pressing your even closer, whispering daunting words that have you trembling to the tip.
lo de ella es playa y arena, se excita cuando el sol la quema, quiere reggeaton, discoteca pa' la nena, se le mete en las venas
“is it supposed to feel like this?” he asked, pressing a feather kiss on your jaw. “like how?” you stutter now his affect on you, feeling the drinks from the entire night beginning to have their affect. “so tender and intimate? so right?” jude was sure of one thing, that he was compelled by you, not just your dancing, everything about you. “answer me, or i’ll stop,” jude spoke, feeling your muscles tense, as you pushed back more, both his hands ln your hips again.
“you should feel more than just tender and sweet… you have to feel it here,” you turn swiftly, wanting to moan at the loss of contact. “you feel it here,” you touch his beating heart, similar to the bass of the music. “and in here…” you brush his temple, jude placing a kiss on your wrist all the way down to your inner flesh.
you’re so sure by the end of the night you might forget his name and let it be as it is. but it’s clear jude has different plans, his strong muscular hand wrapped behind your back as your clung into his shoulders, your cunt allow rubbing against on one of his strong thighs.
“what else? teach me more.”
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ceneid · 15 days
Text
*bite* *bites back* “what the f-” “language !!!” || ft. lyney
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⌜ pairing ⌟ : lyney x gender neutral! reader
⌜ synopsis ⌟ : moments on crack in your relationship with lyney, also with the place that are the most common for them to happen.
⌜ proofread ⌟ : nope my dead brain said n o.
⌜ cw ⌟ : crack, crack, fluff, and uhhhhh everyone in this fic is just on crack lmao
⌜ author's notes ⌟ : this was made at like 2:26 a.m. because head empty aside than lyney, so please. lololol dw i’m still sane + y’all be honest with me does this even count as an actually fic ?? the name is .. marvelous right ?? + user @yvkasha what did i just make help me please 😭
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— the kitchen.
- honestly? i feel bad for the appliances.
- you and him would be together baking something one peaceful evening, and then all of the sudden he would just fling a lil tiny piece of batter at you
- then you would fire one back at him
- and then a full blown w a r would break out between the two of you, the batter never having made it into the oven to be baked into delicious goods.. depressing, really.
- and then the kitchen is also the place where you and him would steal each other’s foods. sure, y’all both originally get what you want; but then, one of you would sneak a bite of the others, and then said other would take the one who took a bite of food out of theirs a bite out of yours ( did that make sense? )
— the bathroom.
- .. the bathroommmm .. /jk ain’t putting nothing nsfw here don’t worry fellas i am fully sfw
- mornings. when you try to brush your teeth, he’ll take your toothbrush and then hide it, saying that it ran away?? he says that it decided to go camping.
- really, all an act so he can get you to go back to bed with him while lynette or freminet goes to fetch you yet another toothbrush.
- if the toothbrush plan doesn’t work, then he will try to convince you to take the day off.
- doesn’t work and you go to work and leave him anyways? expect to deal with an pouty lyney later.
— the bedroom.
- chill still sfw
- anyways, lyney would love to be in bed with you always and forever, never having to go anywhere from you, your entrancing aura, the warmth your skin radiated, and just you in general.
- you two would have pillow fights on a typical tuesday night lmao
- most of the time, it would start with you tickling lyney. he’s ticklish on his sides, try to change my mind if you want to. anyways, he’ll whack his pillow on your head, and then you will take it as a challenge, and then the battle of pillows begins.
— the living room.
- ahhh, where to start ..
- the center of chaos, that’s for sure.
- you and lyney would probably do the craziest shit known to mankind to each other there
- for example, whilst you’ll be out and about, the little loveable gremlin that goes by the name of lyney will be planning pranks like there’s no tomorrow
- you have no idea what either of you will plan .. at all. like, you know that it’s obviously gonna be a prank; just not sure how.
- anyways, aside than those times, it’s also where you and lyney just lay or sit on the couch together and just .. talk. nothing special; just some plain talking. it does bring happiness to you both, though, so y’all don’t mind.
- you play with his hair. all of the time. who allowed it to be so silky soft??? and man says that he doesn’t use conditioner .. 🤨
- when you do play with his hair, though, he’ll lean into your touch. one, because he trusts you, and two, because it’s basically a free head massage. win win situation for him !!
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*dies*
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yunjardi · 6 months
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my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]
[young sugar daddy!jake × fem!reader]
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[click here for this series' masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist]
[!!chapter warnings!!: smut [mdni], DADDY KINK, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, oral, gentle sex, cockwarming, angst, crying, arguing, minor possessiveness (???), mentions of negative body image near the end, some fluff, lmk if i missed anything!]
*sorry for any grammar errors
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-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
chapter 16: the ugly truth?
"y/n, please, i really do love you," jake begged you breathlessly, "you're seriously such a big part of my life. what would i ever do without a friend like you?"
a friend.
a friend.
friends.
that's what you and jake are, huh?
the bubbly and shocked feeling that took over your body after hearing jake tell you that he loves you quickly fizzled away once jake uttered that 6 letter word.
that stupid 6 letter word.
how were you even supposed to react to this?
well, you reacted the only way your body would let you.
with anger.
"jake, i need you to do something for me, okay?" jake nodded as you took a deep breath inward before continuing, "once you walk out that door, never come back again. don't bother contacting me either because i don't wanna hear it. friends don't do what we do. you led me on, you asshole. now get out."
"y/n, i meant- i-"
"i said i don't wanna hear it!" you raised your voice, helpless tears falling again, "i-i think it's best if you leave now." your voice softened as tears uncontrollably rolled down your face, causing jake to cry too.
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n," jake declared with a stern tone, "i'm not letting you push me away, not after everything we've been through." you scoffed. "after everything we've been through? you're unbelievable, jake. i'm not gonna fall for your pretty-boy antics anymore, so you can forget about all that."
jake was at a loss for words. he'd never seen you be so cold before, not to him, not to anyone.
"listen, let's both just calm down. i know we're both heated right now, and we shouldn't be arguing when we're mad like this and-"
"will you shut up with your preaching and just go already?!" you yelled out in frustration, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a ball and be left alone. you didn't want to face the man who was actively breaking your heart into tiny little pieces any longer.
"fine," jake gave in, not saying another word and simply walking out of your house.
secretly, you wanted him to keep fighting for you even though it wouldn't make sense if he did.
the millisecond you heard the door shut, you immediately began bawling your eyes out.
you had no idea what was gonna happen next, if anything that is.
all you could do is sob helplessly in the same spot he left you in.
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you made sure to sob your eyes until you could no longer feel tears in your eyes before heading to work with heavier makeup than usual to cover your tear-stained skin.
calling your manager beforehand, you let her know that you were able to work from opening to closing for which she was quite pleased to hear.
you needed to be as distracted as possible so that you wouldn't think of jake's pretty, yet also cute, puppy face, and the way his hair flowed whenever he'd turn to look at you, and also-
damn, you were already failing your mission miserably.
you managed to pull yourself together on the bus ride to work and walk into the bar without any trouble.
lucky for you, the bar extra was packed this evening which meant you'd be too busy running around to think about anything besides alcohol and more alcohol.
there was no room to think about how much you missed jake's presence, how much you wanted him to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, and you definitely weren't thinking about how much you missed the way his scent blinded you whenever he pulled you into an embrace.
it seemed nothing else could gain control over your clouded mind the way jake does. the way that only he could possibly do.
you were so distracted by faded thoughts of him that you nearly spilled drinks multiple times during your shift and nearly dropped a crystal wine glass floor because of how zoned out you were.
luckily, your mishaps were enough to keep you on your toes plus distracted for a teensy amount of time and by the time you checked the clock, customers were already on their way out for closing hours to come.
you volunteered to stay later than usual to lend a hand and clean up around the bar as an excuse to stay away from your thoughts for as long as possible. your manager found it strange, but she was thankful nonetheless to have some extra hands on deck helping out.
waving goodbye to your manager after cleaning tables and counters, you finally exited the building with a deep sigh and began to walk to the bus stop.
as soon as the night time air hit you, you were suddenly plagued with the most extreme wave of loneliness you'd ever experienced. you feared that you would feel lonelier at night because of the jake situation, and you hated that those fears were steadily becoming a reality.
your brain began to run laps as you started to wonder how things could have turned out if you'd been less nit-picky.
maybe you overreacted. maybe you made something out of nothing. maybe everything was your fault.
you couldn't help but sigh.
the walk home from the bus stop was when you finally let all the tears you were holding in pour from your eyes. you almost couldn't see where you were going due to the tears blurring your vision, but you eventually got to your house. your eyes jaded with tears, you turned the corner to enter your house only to be greeted by a figure sitting at your doorstep.
none other than jake.
he simply could not bear the pain of you not being by his side. he was determined to get through to you; whatever it would take, he'd do it ten fold. jake refused to let you go.
ever since you popped into his life, his greatest fear became losing you, and he refused to let that fear become a reality. he swore to himself that he'd do anything and everything to prove himself to you.
"w-what are you doing here?" you questioned jake between sobs, "i though i t-told you to stay away."
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n. hell, i'll sleep out here all night if i have to," jake declared firmly, his bloodshot and teary eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "trust me, you're not getting rid of me that easily." his tone turned slightly sly.
"jake..." you sighed out, "come inside. how long have you been sitting out here?" you asked whilst opening the front door. he shook his head, not wanting to answer as if it wasn't important for you to possess the knowledge of his time camping at your doorstep.
you let him step inside before you, locking the door once you both got inside.
"so, what is it?" you questioned him again with a sigh, "are you here to collect your things or something?" you tried to keep your voice steady, not wanting to show just how badly you were hurting.
"why would i? it's not like i'm never coming back," jake responded with the same stern tone as before, "you told me to leave and never come back, but i know you better than that, y/n. we both know that we're not just gonna let each other slip through our fingertips. well, at least i'm not going to.
you hated the ease that jake had when it came to seeing right through you and/or literally reading your mind.
he always joked that his sixth sense was 'reading y/n's mind,' but it was scarily true, especially in this moment.
pondering on how attentive jake had always been toward you was enough to have you bawling your eyes out again. thinking about all the little things he did for you every since the beginning made your heart feel like it was about to burst.
jake cautiously stepped toward you, testing the waters to see if you'd push him away if he got any closer, but to his surprise, you didn't. he took this as an opportunity to hold you in his arms, and he was relieved that you even let him do so.
he let out the most intense sigh of relief at the feeling of your head falling against his chest, certain that you were able to hear how quickly his heart pounded.
"shh," jake whispered quietly as he held you tightly, "i'm here, princess. don't cry. you're gonna make me start crying again, baby." you simply melted at his touch as he gently rocked you from side to side, comfort rushing through your body. once you calmed down, you were able to wipe your tears away from your eyes and look up at his tear-stained face. the sight of his upset expression made you bury your head back into his chest, a slight guilt creeping up on you from making him cry along with you.
but you began to feel guilt for another unrelated matter.
unfortunately, you were seconds away from ruining the endearing moment because you couldn't help yourself from expressing your thoughts.
"you're all dirty now," you uttered a soft whine as you wiped a few stray tears away from your eyes, "i was all over the bar cleaning up which made me all gross, and now you're probably all dirty now too."
all of jake's clothes were expensive, and knowing that the hoodie he wore most definitely had remnants of unsanitary bar grime, makeup, and tears made you shudder with unease. his cashmere prada sweater would definitely be unforgiving when it came to attempting to get makeup stains cleaned off of the material.
"is that really what you're worried about, silly?" jake asked with a refreshing yet shy smile whilst tilting your chin upward to look up at him. nodding, you felt your face shifting into a pout yet again and wanted to hide your face as a result.
"give me a second to wash up, please?" you gave jake another pout, embarrassed as you wiped the last stray tears away from your face, tears finally coming to a halt.
"only if i'm allowed to join," jake remarked with a cheeky expression, slightly too soon.
"fine."
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you should've seen this coming.
you should've known that you'd be under the warm water, letting it trickle down your skin, getting lost in a make-out session with the man who can't seem to make up his mind.
you could never seem to gain a sense of morality when the subject of the situation is jake.
you let him overtake you physically and mentally.
there was something about seeing you covered in droplets of warm water whilst steam surrounded the two of you that steadily made jake's desire for you grow deeper and more intense.
jake never knew until now that he had a 'thing' for seeing you with body wash suds all over you; it was like he unlocked a new part of his already-filthy brain.
"hey," jake uttered between kisses as his hands explored your soapy body, "everything i said earlier, it was all a misunderstanding. i love you, y/n, i really do. i just got nervous saying it out loud and started talking out of my ass as a result. please trust me when i tell you that i love you so badly."
your kiss with jake deepened, shutting him up before he could say anything else.
you didn't feel like responding, mostly because you didn't know what to say, so you simply kept kissing him as his hands continued to wander themselves around your body, unknowingly making your core heat up.
as soon as things began to wind down, you turned off the water, handing jake a towel as well as taking one for yourself.
upon arriving to your bedroom, the two of you put on some comfortable clothes as if you weren't about to get undressed in the next five minutes.
you two found your way onto the bed, kissing each other on the lips softly until the situation turned more erotic.
"you're so pretty," jake mumbled into your lips, "all mine." you nodded your head at his comment, "yours." jake seemed to be pleased with your response, it becoming more apparent that his boxers were growing tight.
you let your hands feel down his torso until you got lower, and lower, and eventually down to the waistband of his boxers, ready to take them off after only a few short minutes of them being on. jake followed suit, hastily getting your panties off and discarding them onto the nightstand.
continuing the intimate kiss, jake began to rub gentle circles against your sensitive clit whilst you took his hard length into one of your hands, slowly stroking it at the same pace as he touched you. amorous moans were the only sounds filling the room as jake smoothly slipped a finger inside your needy hole. he moved his hand slowly, feeling every bit of your walls against his slender finger as you began to moan helplessly into his mouth, gripping his cock and stroking it a little harder than before. the two of you moaned in tandem, using your hands to please one another until you reached your limits.
"wait," jake quickly broke the kiss, causing you to look at him as he still continued to rub your clit, "i need a taste."
his statement made your face flush red as you let go of his throbbing cock, letting it fall against his toned lower abdomen as he slid his finger out of your pussy, now positioning you comfortably against the headboard.
"don't be shy, princess," jake chuckled at your coy demeanor, "i've seen you before, silly, and i love what i see." he arguably made you more shy once he parted your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. jake wasted no time, going in for a taste half a second later. the feeling of his tongue against your warmth making a moan escape your lips as your fingers tugged on his pretty brown hair.
"fuck, that's so good, daddy," you mewled as his tongue worked wonders against your hole. you could feel the way he smirked against your clit every time he earned a little moan from you. jake practically lived to please you whether you realized it or not. "i need your cock, please, please, please?" you begged as he stuck his tongue into your soaking hole. jake looked up from between your legs, smirking at how needy his tongue made you.
jake positioned you onto your side, wanting to hold you while he fucked himself into you. he held your leg up, stroking his cock a few times before letting his tip enter you. you squirmed at the feeling, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his thick tip passing through you. slowly, he inched his length into you, his breath hitching at the way your walls clenched around him.
"good girl, so tight for daddy," jake breathed out as he began to thrust softly.
you could feel him so deep inside your cunt, your core quickly burning up at the sensation of his tip steadily bumping against your sweet spot.
jake somehow managed to fuck you like a whore whilst holding you like you were his precious princess.
his thrusts were gentle but very affective, making you twitch as you brought your hand down to your clit, wanting badly to reach your climax.
"daddy, right there," you whined quietly as you brought your hand from your clit up to his spare hand, bringing it around to cup one of your boobs. jake moaned at the way you held his hand against your chest, his core tightening and heating up alongside yours. the stimulation was too much. you found yourself cumming around the base of his thick cock, coating his pretty member with your arousal. "such a good girl," jake praised you as he brought his hand down to your lower abdomen, "you're so pretty when you cum for me."
"your turn, jakey," you urged him by reaching down to play with his balls, causing his head to fall back with a loud groan. he had no choice but to fill you up, ropes of cum shooting deep into your pussy as you both moaned at the feeling.
calming down from your orgasms, you two stayed in the position you were in before inevitably falling asleep as jake kept you close to him throughout the entire night as you both slept.
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the morning after, you felt deviously groggy as if you'd gotten drunk the night before.
the first thing you noticed was jake being gone.
for a second your heart shattered yet again, but your drama queen moment was interrupted when you noticed a handwritten letter on the bedside table.
my lovely princess,
i had to head home early this morning, princess, please don't alarmed by me not being there. i'm not sure if you're working this evening, but it would be great if you could stop by my place beforehand if you are.
-jakey <3
you let out a sigh of relief knowing that jake didn't leave out of pettiness or anything like that.
you rolled out of bed earlier than you would've liked to so that you could go and visit jake before heading to your shift. you couldn't help but wonder why he wanted you to be there. shrugging it off, you quickly got changed into your work uniform, the usual tight and cropped button-up that you barely had buttoned, and a short skirt.
after getting into your work clothes, you put on a significantly less amount of makeup than yesterday before feeding the fish and slipping on a pair of pretty black heels that were easy to walk in.
and you, of course, couldn't forget to bring (one of) your favorite bags that, of course, jake bought for you. since you believed that your recent fight with jake was now behind the both of you, you felt comfortable with using the clothes he'd gifted you throughout your time together.
feeling thankful for the fact that you made up with jake, it was now time to head to his place.
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after the lengthy train journey to jake's house, you walked up to his door and rang the fancy doorbell, waiting for him to come to the door.
you were greeted with a soft kiss from a handsome-as-always jake before he looked you up and down, seeming surprised and shocked at your skimpy work clothes as if he hadn't seen them before.
i mean come on, he literally met you while you were wearing these clothes.
"here," jake reached over to you, buttoning your shirt up higher and practically trying to cram your boobs back into your shirt in the process. he could've sworn they'd gotten bigger, but maybe it was just his dirty imagination. "much better," he sighed with relief. you couldn't help but giggle at his antics; you never saw the day where he'd but buttoning your shirt up.
"you're so silly, puppy," you chuckled as you gazed into his sparkly eyes, completely entranced by his handsome face.
you two stood there, your arms around his neck and his around your waist until you were brutally interrupted by a loud "ahem!"
startled, your head snapped in the direction in which the voice came from.
you couldn't believe your eyes.
"jake, w-what's going on here?" you questioned him with urgency as you stepped away from him, losing physical contact.
it had been so long since you've seen her face that for a second you believed that your eyes were playing tricks on you.
there she was, stood right in front of you.
the girl from the bar.
"y/n, just give me a chance to explain myself," jake begged to which you motioned for him to go on as you tried not to roll your eyes, "i just thought that maybe by bringing you both here, you'd bring this drama to a close, call a truce or something, you know?"
"you're joking, right?" you questioned him a second time, feeling like you were about to lose your mind, "there's no drama that needs to be 'closed,' and i don't appreciate the fact that you're bringing me face-to-face with someone who belittled me for months and went on to physically assault me. there is no drama; she's just- she's- a bitch! that's what she is, and i never want to see her again, jake!" your tone was firm, clear, and serious until you panicked after calling her a bitch. you couldn't help but feel your stomach fall into the depths of hell as you tried to hold back tears.
"now just who the fuck do you think you are, y/n?" she began aggressively moving closer to where you and jake were standing, causing your body to tense up, her knowing your name while you didn't even know hers making you fear her presence even more, "you- you're the bitch in this situation, so don't you get it twisted! why are you in jake's life in the first place? all you've done is take up all his time while you sit around and spend his money all while ruining his reputation! before you were around, he dedicated his whole life to his family's business, and once you waltzed in, he started wasting his time taking care of you like a liability. you're ruining him whether you want to admit it or not!"
her words brought you to a standstill. why did she seem to know so much about you and jake's relationship? more importantly, why does she think she has the right to say these things? more, more importantly, why hasn't jake said a single word?
"who are you to say any of that?" you blurted out furiously, "why are you so concerned about what we're doing? just mind your business! none of this would be happening if you just decided to leave him alone! leave us alone while you're at it! blaming me for random shit isn't going to change a thing; jake and i both know what's going on between him and i, and that's none of your concern. leave me out of this."
trying to remain calm, you took a deep breath only for her to start coming closer to a point where you could smell her flowery perfume.
"his business is my business," she stated firmly, looking into your soul via your eyes, "you better believe and internalize when i say that you're a no-good, useless commoner who could only dream of living the life we do. just because you think you're in cahoots with jake doesn't mean you're gonna snake your way into his life, you got that? you're just a bit of fun for him, someone he can use for a little while before he realizes that you're just a pathetic commoner who he shouldn't associate with. god, when will you realize that you're just an object that he can put his arm around and fuck when he has nothing else to do?"
at this time, you wished that your ears were deceiving you; you truly couldn't believe that anyone could say something as cruel as that seemingly without feeling any shame or guilt.
you also couldn't believe that you were basically having a cat-fight with another woman over a man. you never ever thought you'd get to this point, but jake... he just means so much to you to a point where you couldn't bear the thought of someone trying to take him away from you. god you felt pathetic for letting a guy take control of your emotions like this, but you couldn't help yourself; jake was so precious to you.
"soyeon, that's enough!" jake suddenly spoke up, shocking both of you.
well, at least now you finally learned her name after all this time.
"i'm not just gonna sit here and let you say disrespectful things to y/n! she did nothing wrong, and i'm sick of you thinking that she did. she's not ruining anything, and she's especially not ruining me! just leave her and i alone and find someone else."
"seriously, why did you bring her here?" you asked jake quietly, "you knew she wasn't going to be civil about this."
"y/n," jake looked into your eyes as he spoke, "i really thought things would be settled. in hindsight, i should've seen this coming, but i never meant to hurt you by doing this."
she seemed to smirk at the way you finally began to tear up.
"well you did," you spoke out, gently wiping your waterline to avoid messing up your makeup, "i honestly don't know how much more i can take. you told me that you loved me last night; was it all a lie? were you just sweet-talking me? i don't know what you want anymore, jake."
at this point, jake's feelings were as clear as mud.
"look at me. please don't cry," jake begged, wanting so desperately to wipe your tears away, soyeon watching the situation from just a few paces away.
"see, there he goes again," her voice making you tense up again, "taking care of you like a child. it's sad to watch, really. you're only stressing him out by acting like this, so go take your tears somewhere else-"
"haven't we heard enough from you already?!" jake raised his voice at her, "look, if you can't suck it up and leave her alone, then get out and never show your face around her nor i ever again!"
"how could you say that, jake?" she began crying out, "if it weren't for her, things would've played out perfectly! if it weren't for her, we'd be married!"
"m-married?" you managed to speak out as you looked over at jake in disbelief. after that, you couldn't get another word out, only mustering up the courage to take your phone and wallet out of the bag you brought with you (that was, of course, from jake) and leave it on a chair before walking out the door.
no matter how many times jake called your name, you couldn't find the courage to turn around. hearing the words that she said made your entire world crumble around you.
marriage? is that why he invited you to his house to meet her formally?
whatever.
you didn't want to think about it anymore.
you wished that jake's front yard and driveway wasn't such a strenuous walk because you could still hear him calling your name endlessly, begging you to come back.
"let her go, jake," you heard soyeon's loud and mocking voice, "she doesn't understand this lifestyle, and she never will."
maybe she was right. maybe you'd never understand because you weren't born into a rich and noble family like they were.
you couldn't hear much else once you got to the end of the excruciatingly long driveway, only being able to hear a loud "get out" that you presumed came from jake.
after finally making it out of his residence, you took a second to tell your boss that something came up and that you couldn't come in after all. luckily, she was understanding and thankfully didn't make you explain what went on which was a relief.
at that, you took your sad ass back home and planned to stay there for the next couple of days.
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"that's absolutely insane," yeji's jaw dropped over the phone.
you decided to call her and tell her the sequence of events because, come on, you can't hide anything from your best friend.
"and i'm a wreck over it," you admitted lowly as you spoke into the phone, "i think i just need some time to myself, you know? after all, i've spent virtually all my time with him since we met, so maybe some time apart will do us some good."
"who knows, maybe he'll finally make up his mind," yeji shrugged before letting you go, reminding you that you could call her any time no matter what.
you sighed softly once the call ended, feeling more alone than ever.
stupidly, you decided to open up his designated drawer in your bedroom where he kept some clothes and put on one of his hoodies. the smell of his clothes only made your heart shatter into even smaller pieces as you curled up on your bed in hopes that you could get some sleep, your eyes sore and tired from crying.
a sudden panic filled your body once you heard the sound of your front door being unlocked, causing you to jolt up from your bed.
"y/n, are you home? it's just me," you heard a familiar voice call out to you from the living room. you peeked from underneath your covers to see jake standing before you, holding out his hand for you to grab it, but you refused.
as much as you wanted to curl up in bed with jake and act like everything was dandy, simply seeing his face made you start crying like a baby.
jake's heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you crying.
he did this.
he fucked up.
and he was unsure if he could do anything to fix it.
"g-get out," you managed to stutter through your tears, "y-you're a liar; you d-don't love m-me. s-shouldn't you be g-getting ready f-for a w-wedding with h-her or s-something?"
"for fuck's sake, y/n, i'm not marrying her!" jake raised his voice at you unintentionally, "i don't even want her in my life, so what makes you think that i'd do anything of the sort?" you could only let out sniffles in response, letting tears trickle down your face as jake slowly approached you.
upon seeing you up close, he noticed that you were clad in one of his hoodies which only made his heart soften even more. he couldn't stop himself from climbing into your bed and sitting next to you, his back against the headboard as he looked down at you.
you turned away from him, not wanting him to see your puffy, tear-stained face.
"is it because she's prettier than me?" you asked, your emotions suddenly spilling out, "because her figure is better than mine? or maybe how her hair always looks perfect? is it the way that she always dresses up no matter where she goes? or how you and her probably have a lot more in common in a sense that you two both come from noble and rich families? if you really think i'm an unattractive nobody just say it."
you couldn't see it, but jake's face was in a state of shock, absolutely refusing to believe that your mind came up with all of those ideas.
"you don't really think that, right?" jake asked softly, getting his answer from the way that you stayed still and silent, "princess, how could i ever? don't you know that i only have eyes for you? please, look at me." you felt jake's warm hand meet your shoulder, helping you turn your body to face him.
you sat up against the headboard next to him, your eyes glistening as you looked into his eyes that seemed to be saddened upon finding out what was going on in the depths of your mind. jake couldn't help but stop and wonder how long you'd been feeling that way, and it caused a sinking feeling to bubble up within him.
"if there's one thing i want you to know right now, it's that i think you're the most gorgeous woman i've ever laid my eyes upon," jake declared, pulling you closer and closer, "i don't care what you say, i don't care if you disagree because this is my truth." jake eventually pulled you close enough to where you were sat on his lap, your forehead against his while he lowly mumbled sweet nothings to you.
"you know, ever since i first put my hands on you, i never wanted to touch anyone else," jake admitted in a whisper as his hands began to travel around your waist, "even the thought of being in this position with anyone else makes me sick to my core."
you let jake's hands feel all over you as you felt his obvious hard growing underneath you, letting a small whimper pass through your lips.
some would argue that your relationship with jake was in too fragile of a state to be intimate with each other, but you couldn't disagree more; you needed to feel jake in the most intimate and vulnerable way possible.
"please," you whined in a whisper, jake knowing exactly what you were asking for and following suit.
in the blink of an eye, you let jake slip his hard cock inside you, his hands still wandering around your waist as he pushed his hoodie off your body. you let out quiet moans as goosebumps formed all over your body from his touch. the combination of the slow movements of your hips against his along with the way his hands ghosted over your chest was enough to send your body into a frenzy.
not wanting to rush the pleasure, you slowed the movement of your hips to focus on jake's beauty.
you took time to adore the way his lips looked against your chest as he left gentle pecks along your skin, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his eyes would meet yours, causing you to become shy.
"see how beautiful you are?" jake began, his lips finding their way back onto your skin, "i couldn't even imagine anyone else who i'd give myself to almost every goddamn chance i get. i want you all the time, you have no idea." his breathing slowed down as you began to kiss his soft lips.
it's impossible.
he's impossible.
jake sim is impossible not to fall in love with.
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a/n: sorry this one is so long and isn't exactly an easy read. i hope you still enjoyed it anyway and are looking forward to the next one <3 ily all and tysm for being super patient with this series. i love it so much and don't want to give up on it, so your support really helps <3
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months
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Pretty like the wind
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Previous chapter / Next chapter
a/n Part six! Right, who thought we would see each other here? In all honesty... I'm just so freaking excited because you all seem to enjoy this series. ✨🤍 Thank you for reading!🤍🫧
warning: lots of past trauma, Illyrian camp kind of trauma, anxiety, kids because some of you said it was a warning, same old things.
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You were struggling to grasp the world around you. Trying to figure out where someone as small and meaningless could slot it. Crack through the broken pieces and allow the roots to form. You hated yourself for it. Hated the feeling that surrounded you. And for the very first time, you found yourself agreeing with every rule that Padme had set in this place. Hating yourself because you opened yourself to the inevitable. Made yourself believe and see things that weren't there. Hated it even more because, in the mix of all of this, you managed to lose the hold of your heart that had been safely locked away.
"Y/N", you blinked a couple of times. Being met with an eager hand flailing right in your face, "Mhm", you muttered. "You weren't listening to me...", Axel fell back on the mattress dramatically. You had slipped back into your room after that balcony fiasco. You couldn't. Simply couldn't look at Azriel now. And what were you thinking? Saying things like that. Kiss me...
You cleared your throat, "I was. I was. The purple looks nice", you nodded. Axel tilted his head to the side, "We figured that an hour ago", the boy frowned. "Ah", you exclaimed. What was he talking about? You had been so lost in your head that you had lost the line of his babbling somewhere along the sugar tree canes. Zofie crawled onto your lap. She was an empathetic child, managing to sense even the smallest dents in others' moods. Her questioning was silent; just her eyes managed to pierce right through you. But you kept your head high, a smile plastered on your lips. A fake one, yet it was better than a wobbling lip. You were about to ask Axel about the Candyland dream when the boy sighed, "You're no fun. Azriel actually listens".
You bite your cheek at that. Your whole body seemed to shut down at the mention of him. But it was infectious. The moment your body realized the familiar sound of his name, it seemed to burst with all the different sensations on its own. "That's rude, Axel; apologize", Zofie bit back, arms crossed over her chest. Her fiery gaze was enough to make Axel's shoulders droop. "I didn't mean it like that," the boy said, moving an inch closer to you. "I know, sweet boy, I'm not mad", you brushed your hands through his messy hair. Letting him snuggle into your side.
And nothing had ever felt more right than having them both wrapped up in your hands. They might not be yours, but you loved them as if they were a part of you. No big gestures were needed. You had found one another and clung to each other ever since. And Mother knows you had taken orphans from camps before. But these two were special. Special beyond anything else. The thought of someone taking them away The thought of having to let go of them so they would have a chance to be a part of a normal family...
"No", Zofie muttered, her tiny fingers paddling at your cheeks. Axel's big brown eyes looked right at you. "I'm okay, I'm sorry", you tried to smile at them. You were always great at hiding your pain and fears from them. But with so many things going on, so many things slipping through your fingers. You had lost the grasp of your shields completely. "You're lying", Axel stated quietly, and all you could do was cup his face. Zofie sent him a worried look. And even if she could power through others' pain, your sadness left her feeling hopeless. So Axel did the only thing that felt right to him in that moment.
"I don't see the necessity to rush", Azriel was talking to a swirling image of Rhys that flouted in his room. But not before he had called his brother a dramatic ass for showing up most extravagantly. "I'd send Cassian, but you and I both know how that ended the last time", Rhys huffed, and quite frankly, Azriel didn't want to recall the time Cassian had way too much fun in Summer. Yes, he was undeniably an amazing warrior, but dang, there was a child in that grown body that seemed to take over his judgment at times. "So, what? You're unlocking my cell door so easily?", Azriel shook his head. Rhys sighed. "You can hate me all you want. But you and I both know you needed to get away from Velaris", Rhys said calmly. Azriel wasn't an idiot; he knew his previous appearances were to monitor him. And even now, there was that inkling of hope in his brother's eyes. Looking for a change, trying to see if Elain was still something Azriel wanted to pursue.
"Look, I need to make sure...", Azriel stated right as his bedroom door burst open and in fell Axel. Yet the boy quickly picked himself up. Just his attention instantly got snagged by Rhys. "Wow, a flouting head... cool", he mussed. Azriel frowned slightly. "Axel, bud, what's going on?", he asked in a softer tone. "Oh, amm...", the boy's gaze darted between the two males. "It's okay. Look at me", the spymaster turned his full attention to the youngling.
And yet, no matter what Azriel was expecting, didn't prepare him for the world that left Axel's lips: "Am... Y/N is not feeling well". And it's as if Azriel's body reacted on its own. The male practically leaped out of his chair, moving to reach for the boy, "What do you mean? Did something happen?". And deep down, from the bitter taste alone, he knew that it was his doing. The conversation on the balcony was so unfair and stupid. He shouldn't have mentioned Rhys like that. Because that wasn't the case at the time. The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Just... come", Axel pleaded, moving to grab Azriel's palm and giving it a little nervous squeeze. And of course, he moved to walk right after the boy. "Yeah, I'll hang here", Rhys muttered, an amused smile on his face, but Azriel only called over his shoulder, "Shut it, Rhys".
Was Azriel worried? Yes. Ever since he saw you practically ran away from him. He was convinced that he had heard your heart-shattering, Azriel saw it in your eyes. That final undoing. That final decline. That was the final straw. Was he once again being selfish? Yes. Because he was mortified. He didn't want to go back; that alone scared him. But then he thought... What if he didn't manage to hold back? What if he wasn't yet all over it? What if he slipped up, and you all got hurt in the process?
Axel gripped his arms firmly and said, "And you will talk, and you will make it better like you always do", only now did Azriel realize that the boy was talking. Myst has been talking the whole way up the stairs. His breathing was uneven. "Hey, hey, slow down", Azriel tugged lightly, but Axel didn't give in. "This is urgent", "I hear you, but you need to slow down", Azriel stated calmly, and Axel finally stilled. His wings were always slouchy, but now they were practically dragging on the floor. The flicker of protectiveness flickered in Spymaster's chest.
"What if they are finally sending us away?", Axel's words were barely a whisper, but they knocked practically all the air out of Azriel's lungs. "What?", was all the male managed to mutter. Axel's eyes were big as if he was not supposed to say anything, as if this was meant to stay a secret. "Y/N has been getting in trouble for keeping us", he sighed after a while, his eyes darting to the floor. Azriel quickly hooked his finger under the boy's chin, "Hold up, Axel, look at me. Like soldier to soldier".
He was sure that he was not supposed to have this conversation with a kid, but... This was a serious thing. They can't be taken away from you. "She's not considered fit to be our caretaker", Axel said, eyes filling up with tears. "She's a summoner or something. She does this thing", the boy waved his tiny hands around, and Azriel just watched him, "And it's easier for them", Axel ended with a sigh. Them. Them? The sanctuary? That rusty lady? Azriel gritted his teeth, reassuringly squeezing Axel's shoulder.
When he stepped into the room you three shared, he was convinced that jumping off this mountain and falling to his death was less painful. Zofie was seated right by your side, her tiny fingers brushing against your cheek every time a new tear fell. You just seemed so small. So broken. Mother above... Azriel had wondered about the kids, but what about you? What was your story? Who said that you weren't a victim too?
"Azriel", that was a sound that Azriel knew he was never going to get tired of. He met Zofie's eyes from across the room. Eyes that were now almost pleading. "Hey, baby Z", Azriel muttered with a wink. Your body instantly shot up, an angry scowl on your face, "What are you doing here?". Azriel had never heard your voice so cranky and low. It ripped at parts of him that it shouldn't.
"Axel, take Zofie to my room; why don't you?", Azriel ruffled the boy's hair, and he instantly stretched his arm out for the girl, who was quick to leap off the bed. "No", you muttered, pushing yourself to get out of bed. "Y/n", Azriel pleaded, his eyes fixed more on the kids as they both hurried to get out. "Who do you think you are?", you were right in front of him now, hands reaching for the door handle, but Azriel blocked it off by standing in the way.
"Come on, let's talk", he said softly, but you only let out a huff. "No", you said, moving to shove him away, but in reality, you should have known better, taking into account that he was at least three times your size. You pulled back angrily. "You might be some big scary thing down there", you pointed at the window where the lights of Velaris could be seen. "But here... I don't care", you nearly whined in frustration. You moved to flick your hands out, the light instantly drenching them, but Azriel was quick to catch your wrists.
"I don't want to fight", he said in a calm, worried tone. You tried to yank your hands from his. Just like you tried to get away from him on the balcony, just this time he didn't buck. "I don't care what you want", you spat through gritted teeth. "You're leaving", and as angry as you tried to appear, the last part made your voice crack, and you instantly bit the inside of your cheek. Azriel let out a sigh before saying, "I never said that".
Your body seized. That same painful feeling of hope rushed through you, but you drowned it out almost immediately. Why wouldn't he? Why would he stay? You watched Azriel until your eyes were burning so much that you couldn't keep your composure any longer. "It's not fair", you muttered, but all you got in return was, "Why didn't you tell me?". You blinked a couple of times in conversation. "What?", you breathed. "That they want to take them away", Azriel's words pierced right through you. Igniting that same anger that was just starting to fade away.
"They won't", you snapped. They might try, but you would go down swinging if you had to. "You're sure?", Azriel bites back for the first time, and it's enough to make you pull away from him once again. "Fuck you", you hissed, "Who do you think you are?". You wished he would yell back instead of just standing there. Looking. Standing and looking. "You came in here after thinking with your dick and just stirred it all up", and you know your words hit the spot just from the way pain flashed in Azriel's eyes, but his face stays stone cold. Unreadable. Unapproachable. "You don't mean it, you're mad", he said in an utterly blank matter, and it only inched you forward. "Oh, I mean it, I so...", but you didn't have words; you don't have words for what you were looking to say. There was nothing. Because none of them were true.
"You...", you point your finger at Azriel. "Yeah, go for it. Pull out another name for me. I don't care what insult you throw at me. You're defending yourself because you're scared", and that's it. Those words were your final undoing. Your lip wobbled. Nails digging so deep into your palms just so you can keep yourself from sobbing. "I can't lose them...", you breathed out and Azriel instantly crossed the distance between you both, pulling you in and tucking your head beneath his chin. "We'll figure this out", "This doesn't involve...", you try to fight back, but Azriel ignores your words. "I've got you, love", he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And just like most times when Azriel was near you, a warm flow seeped deeper into your bones, settling into your body. Your hands reached to hold onto his shoulders for support as you let yourself cry.
"You cheated", Axel gasped, making you turn your head back to your bed. Azriel was sprawled on it, with both of the little monsters on either side of him. They had both come back with a handful of sweets in their hands that they snuck in from the kitchen. For comfort, they said it in unison, and as much as you wanted to tell them off, all you had done was smile. Yet the empty feeling in your chest still throbbed.
"How does one cheat while reading a bedtime story?", Azriel let the book rest against his chest. "You read too fast!", "You didn't do voices", both Zofie and Axel said in unison. A deep chuckle slipped past Azriel's lips, "Two very different accusations here". His eyes darted to your frame. You had opted to sit near the fireplace instead of lying with them. "Judge?", he called out playfully to you, the two kids giggling alongside him. But your eyes didn't leave the dancing flame. "Y/N", Azriel called out softly. You turned to them with a hum, but your eyes alone said that now was not the time for games. You couldn't take it. A sharp lash of pain gripped Azriel's chest, making him grit his teeth. But your shoulders sagged in slight relief. As if Azriel had managed to take at least an inch of pain off your shoulders.
"How about we settle down?", the spymaster turned to the kids, quickly pulling the blanket all the way up above their heads, making them both fall into fits of giggles. Giggles that pulled even at the corners of your lips "Will you stay?", Axel asked breathlessly. Azriel stilled for a moment, "I don't think I...", the spymaster muttered quickly. "You're very warm", Zofie beamed, and for that alone, Azriel was willing to drop all of his plans. "Then I can't keep you freezing", his shadows quickly fluttered through Zofie's hair, making the girl squeal at the tickling sensation.
Azriel watched you for what felt like ages. The noise in the room had died down. With both kids asleep, the place felt quiet. Only the crackling of fire remained, accompanied by the light snoring. Azriel had managed to slip from in between the two younglings. As if by second nature they had found one another in between the sheets. Axel's wing draped over Zofie almost immediately. And Azriel had to crack a smile. Illyrian instinct.
"What's on your mind, sweet?", Azriel had walked over to you, both hands on your tense shoulders, as he finally broke the silence. "Sadder or a happier version?", you chuckled coldly. "Sadder", the spymaster muttered, because deep down he knew there wasn't a single happy scenario in your head at this moment. "How horrific it will be for them when you go back", you muttered. Azriel shook his head as a sheen of frustration ran down his face, "Why are you so fixated on it?", "You didn't just ask that", you huffed, turning to him swiftly. Azriel let out another sigh, "Why does every conversation between us end up in an argument now?" There was no anger in his tone. Pure sadness at its best. It hurt him, and even you couldn't ignore it. You looked away quickly, but one of Azriel's shadows brushed against your cheek, turning your head back to the shadowsinger.
He kneeled in front of you, lowering himself to your height. "I'm not throwing this away. I said I'd teach Axel how to fly, and I will", Azriel said firmly, "I want to earn Zofie's love; I can't..", but you quickly cut in, "Don't", you muttered, "Don't make promises like that". Azriel watched you. Watched you because, no matter how much he tried, he knew he would understand the roots of the pain you carried. And then, against his better judgment or just simply because his heart was telling him to, Azriel muttered, "Come to Velaris with me". You let out a surprised gasp, scanning his eyes. "You don't mean it", you whispered, shaking your head, but Azriel only inched closer, "Then I'll prove it to you".
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Taglist: @naturakaashi
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ch4nb4ng · 1 year
Text
Stress relief
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Pairing: afab!reader x Chan
Word count: 4.5k
Genre: friends to lovers
Warnings: Kissing, mentions of gentalia, handjob, tit job (?), praise, creampie
Note: idk if anyone is actually going to read this because I haven't posted in like 10 months so yeah but rusty but genuinely enjoy writing this so much
Summary: You were a great student, and Chan was struggling, bad. This is what happened when you tried to reduce his stress by 'studying.'
Time was nothing but a mindless construct for you and the many young individuals that attended college. Prestigious or not, it was deep into the second semester of your second year, and if you had to look at one more textbook about a specification type of referencing, you were going to explode. 
Being a psychology major was something you had worked toward for a long time. Having a job that nurtured people back to optimal health and wellbeing was something that always felt nice on the tip of your tongue. Nice to tell people, nice to give to people. That didn’t mean it did not come with its challenges. Researching, literature reviews, group assignments… It was hard and enduring work.
It was helpful that by the end of the first year you had discovered others on the same greuling yet rewarding path. Having a decent support system was essential, especially when traveling to the other side of the world to study. The 4 boys and two girls, who would be named Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Mina and Lia would be the be all and end all for you. Crying together, partying together, doing everything together. Traveling to South Korea was difficult at first. Adapting to the culture and language, so having them by your side got you to where you were today. Life is stressful currently, but then again, things could be worse.
**
“Okay class, this is the last class for the semester, so if you have any questions, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
You listened eagerly, wanting to pick up on any tips or tricks necessary to ace the exam. Cognitive psychology was a piece of cake to you, so this exam was in the bag. The others… not as much. Changbin and Felix were pretty good, thanks to Lia helping them every other day, and Mina only liked to study alone, got too distracted by the lot of you which to be fair, isn’t hard. You were a loud group. Most of the time you studied on your own as well, the occasional time with Felix if he was bored or needed to catch up on notes from readings (and by catching up on notes, basically just stealing yours). But most of your time was spent with Chan. He was good, but always needed a little bit of extra help. He was kind of whisked into psychology, not really sure what he wanted to do. Therefore, Chan had little to no background before coming into the degree.
“Ms, is Piaget theory required for this exam?”
“Tsk, yes Chan,” she replied, much disdain to her tone, “have you not been listening to anything for the past 6 weeks?”
Tiny giggles permeated through the room after the professor's sarcastic response. It made your skin crawl, and not in a good way. It was quite rude if anything. Chan laughed it off as well. He was the type to just laugh things off, but you could tell on his face that he was nothing but serious when asking his question. His ears began to turn red, sinking into his chair simultaneously. 
Luckily the bell rang, and you had never seen someone zoom out of a classroom as fast as Chan did. You chase after him, wanting to make sure he was okay and not feeling completely humiliated. It felt like a marathon, you were very much out of breath by the time you caught up to him. Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, the unintentional force causing him to face you.
“Jesus christ Chan,” you stumbled, completely out of breath, “why did you have to run so fast?”
You looked, a weak chuckle coming from his lips, a single tear simultaneously dripping out of the corner of his eyes. Your smile faded, beginning to feel really bad for your poor friend.
“Sorry Y/n,” he whispered, wiping it away quickly with the sleeve of his hoodie, “you’ve caught me at a bad time.”
You motioned to the bench next to you, sitting next to him as you rubbed his back in circular motions. Chan was such an intelligent individual, it made you feel sorrow when he doubted himself, and this was one of those moments. 
“Oh Chan don’t even worry about that,” you cooed, “she’s been rude all semester, definitely had a stick up her ass or something because I have no idea what her problem is.”
That made him giggle, turning to you and grabbing your hand as a silent thank you.
“Yeah you're right aha. I’m really struggling with the cognitive stuff though, and I have no idea how I’m going to do this exam.”
The other, who moved at a normal, not heart attack inducing pace, finally caught up to the two of you,lips pouted and solemn as they noticed Chan was having a down moment.
“Aw Chan it’s ok,” Felix hummed, giving him a bright smile, “we will all help you, promise.”
“Yeah,” Changbin chimed in, “let’s have a study session at Chan’s, tomorrow, 3pm good for everyone?”
Everyone nodded in agreement, you and Chan following behind the rest. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks, “Y/n, could you come an hour earlier? Just so I don’t sound like a complete idiot? Also, they’re kind of hard to keep up with. I like the way you explain things.”
You’d be lying if you said the skin on your arm was burning up. He didn’t know, too innocent to realize, but his praise had an effect on you, one too many times. You would like nothing more than to take care of him, in all the ways anyone could imagine. Wash his clothes, feed him an insurmountable quantity of food. Was his hair in the shower, lather his body in soap and just, well, you know. The chiseled state of his body was no secret. The many beach trips accounted for that. Chan was a very good looking man, one of the first things you noticed when Felix introduced you to his friends. However, it was something that you suppressed deep down. A romance was the last thing you needed.
 Your cheeks follow a similar temperature. The thought almost made you dizzy. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to your senses and not trying to look out of the ordinary.
“Uh yes,” you shrieked, the attempt to act normal utterly dismissed, “of course. Anything to help you out.”
You continued to walk together, a million thoughts running through your mind as you attempted to keep them subtle, failing to rope them in and keep them at a minimal level.
**
To describe you as nervous was an understatement. Your hairbrush ran through your hair in a frustrating manner. You felt stupid, ridiculous even. If you had a dollar for every time you went to Chan’s dorm, you would be a millionaire, why did this time feel different? Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed, putting the last touches of your makeup before grabbing your keys and walking across campus, heading to your ‘friends’ door.
A gentle couple of knocks was all it took for you to be greeted by your handsome friend. His hair was swept back, forehead showing. His outfit was casual, black hoodie, black tracksuit pants. It was nothing different to what he usually wore, but he looked ten times hotter than usual.
“Y/n,” he groaned, “thank god you’re here.” 
He dragged you inside, closing the door behind you. He began to pace back and forth, biting on his fingernails simultaneously.
“Chan slow down, what’s wrong?”
“I opened the textbook, and I can’t stop freaking out. Y/n I’m so stressed, why are you not pacing with me?”
“Because,” you laughed, gripping his forearms stopping him in his tracks, “by the end of the day, you will understand Piaget, and every other theory we need before the exam, okay?”
You were close, eyes piercing as you gave him a loss of reassurance. You weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you, but it felt like Chan was moving closer. His eyes began to bore into yours, holy fuck he was hot. 
You broke away, not wanting to misinterpret anything. Taking a seat on his couch, you picked up his textbook, scanning and analyzing what he was trying to understand. Chan sat right next to you, thigh distractingly touching yours as you attempted to read. You could feel his gaze over his shoulder. The smell of his cologne flowing into your nostrils, becoming intoxicating. Your frustration began to increase. You knew that you were being unreasonable, but it was like he was trying to seduce you. You were already out of your mind, and nothing in the slightest of being sexual had occurred.
“Chan, I can hear your breathing down my neck.”
“Oh,” he moved away, “sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Are you sure?”
“What?”
You put the textbook down, turning your body to face him. The look of concern on his face, like the one you were met with when you opened the door had not disappeared. A look of disapproval now on yours.
“Can you please talk to me?”
“What do you want to know?”
“What exactly is stressing you out?”
A large sigh escaped his lips, 
“I just feel like I’m failing. I had to convince my parents to live here instead of Australia, and I just feel like I’m not living up to what they expected.”
Your heart sank at his words. You sat there for two minutes of silence. You weren't sure what you could say that would be perfect and what he needed to hear, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t attempt to.
“Chan I-”
“And I have other needs as well.”
At first you were confused, completely unsure of what he referred to. Your mind was ticking once again, rummaging to what he referred to. But when it came to your mind, your eyes widened, mouth dropping before you spoke.
“Oh, I get what you mean.”
“Yeah.”
Another couple of minutes of silence passed as you looked around, refusing to make eye contact with each other. An idea popped into your mind, but it was way too inappropriate to ask. You wanted to help him so badly though, a proposition if you will. It was such a fine line to cross. It really was inappropriate, but the innocent look on his face was triggering something in you, sparking your innermost fantasies and desires. 
You don’t know what took over or what in your right mind possessed you to do what you did next, but time moved and all of a sudden you were on top of Chan, arms wrapped around his neck as you looked down at him, like a predator hunting his prey.
“You know, I can help you if you want?”
A large gulp was evident as it paced down his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say, him now analyzing if he himself was being too inappropriate to take you upon your proposition. His hands spread across your rear, gently nudging you forward. He was in unfamiliar territory, not sure how to proceed.
“Did you mean with studying or, you know, my needs?”
The look you gave him was priceless. It was amazing how genuinely oblivious Chan was sometimes. You got up from his lap, saying nothing and walking towards his room. He followed, closing the door behind him, even though nobody else was home.
“Sit on the bed.”
He did as he was told, legs spread wide at the edge. He always sat like this, and it turned you on, every single time. Chan, without knowing it, just looked so cocky, so arrogant, and fuck, did you used to like arrogant men. The ironic thing was that he was the complete opposite. Smart, kind, generous and warm to others. He was probably the only guy that you met that had all the qualities you looked for.
But that was irrelevant now. This moment wasn’t about how likable he was, it was about how hot he was. You took two steps closer, lifting your arms above your head and discarding your shirt. You could hear the audible gasp that escaped his lips, stunned by the way your chest looked. You did not assume that this would happen, therefore the reason why you had no bra on. You stood there, chest inline with his face as he watched you with so much intent. The way he was taking you in, drinking you up like a crisp, refreshing beverage. Chan, not a complete virgin, had little experience. He was a hard worker, never giving into his temptations. If anything, it kind of explained why he was so intense ¾ of the time. Nevertheless, it made your insides throb the way he gazes at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth.
“If you don’t want this, talk now.”
You waited for what felt like 5 hours, but was really thirty seconds before he shook his head, vigorously. The notion made you smirk. His eyes remained wide, focusing nothing but the curve of your boobs. He went to lift his shirt, thinking it would be the right thing to do seeing as you were half naked yourself. But you said no,grabbing his wrists and placing them on your own zipper. His fingers gently shadowed yours, the sound of the zip the only noise filling the room. Stepping out of them quickly, simultaneously pulling your underwear off as well, another gasp escaped his lips. You were now fully nude, him fully clothed. There was something sick to you about getting off at the fact he was fully dressed and you were the opposite. 
“Like what you see?”
“Mhm,” he gulped once more, “really, really beautiful.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but that wasn’t the time for this. Dropping to your knees, your fingers began to fiddle with the drawstring of his own bottoms. It did take long, seeing as Chan liked to wear very baggy clothes. They came off in one swift motion, spreading his legs even farther apart so you could fit right in. He was already extremely hard, the sight of your tits getting even near his cock made him twitch. Looking up at him, his chest was visibly tense, like he was holding in a large breath.
It wasn’t until your hand gripped the base of his length, and you started pumping, was when his chest fell deeply, almost concave in. His facial expression still looked tense, however, you could tell it wasn’t a look of agony, it was quite the opposite. A small whine escaped from his lips when you added another hand, adding more friction to his cock and you began to pump him a little faster. 
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, too embarrassed to allow you to hear his satisfaction. The muscles in his legs and arms were much looser than they were prior, and the fact that you were only using hands was absolutely blowing your mind. Your arousal was increasing. Seeing how pathetic and easy it was to turn Chan on. 
“Is that good Chan?”
“Yes,” he breathed, barely able to get his words out, “that feels so good, fuck Y/n.”
The breathy tone of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It had been a while since someone made you feel like that. You felt like he needed to be rewarded. You maneuvered your body closer, but taking his hands off of his length, placing them on either sides of your chest as you took him in, watching his length slide in the crevice of your tits. Chan jumped out of his seat, jaw slack and dropping to the floor as he watched his extremely hard cock disappear in between your cleavage. Eyes remained on him, your core was throbbing harder, watching his face contour, eyebrows strongly furrowed; he was enjoying every single second of it. Your chest moved with anticipation, tongue sticking out to reach the slit of his tip every time it reached the peak of your cleavage.
“You’re so cute,” you smile, “you’re so pathetic you know, have you ever done this before?”
“No,” he moaned, hands already gripping his bed sheets forcefully, “you’re right, I’m so pathetic.”
“Oh you like that? You like when I take control?”
“Yes.”
“You’re such a good boy,” you coo, picking up your pace, “taking my tits so well aren’t you?” His head rolled back, eyes closed but looking like he was looking at the ceiling. It was almost as enjoyable for you as it was for him. The textures and ridges of your cock not going unnoticed. He felt amazing, and your mouth began to salivate because if he felt that good in between your tits, he would feel 10 times better inside of you. Chan came back to life, head snapping back into motion as he looked down at you, so much innocence yet corruption filled his being. You moved away, hearing the sound of disappointment come from Chan’s lips as you stood up.
Lifting a hand, you pushed him by the chest, laying him flat before crawling on top of him. Still sitting up, you hovered over intertwining your fingers with his and you lined yourself up with his cock. A sudden pang of doubt creeped into your mind. Was this the right thing to do? Did you feel the need to do this to satisfy your own wants and needs? 
“Are you ready for this?”
He said nothing, only nodding because he knew that if he tried to speak, it would come out as a voice breaking murmur. Placing your hand on his shoulder, straightening your back, allowing yourself to sit on top of him. A small moan escaped your lips as your clit landed on his cock. That was fortunate. A hiss escaped him. Chan had been super patient until this point, it kind of made you feel guilty for making him wait. But another part of you kind of loved this almost sick power you had over him. He was so complicit, not doing anything and letting you take control. It felt rare, because most of your previous partners needed to have control.
“Do you mind if I do everything myself?”
His eyes never left yours, biting down on his bottom lip as he shook his head, eagerly waiting for you to get on with it. You lifted your hips once more, taking the hand that was intertwined and bringing it to the base of his length. A moan in unison, one of relief and gratification as he effortlessly slid into you. Chan was a decently hung man, but it didn’t matter anyways. You were already so wet and so turned on that fucking him would be a piece of cake.
“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes glued to your tits as the had a light bounce. You began to gently rock, not wanting to overwhelm him at a rapid rate. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, and it was, feeling his cock already twitching inside of you.
“You’re not going to cum are you?”
You leaned forward, pressing your lips softly against his. The electricity was great, moving with so much attention yet sensuality you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. A soft groan vibrated from his mouth the longer you kissed him. Breaking the kiss, he looked up at you, keen to answer your question 
“No,” you whined, unsure what to do with his hands, “sorry I’m just so excited.”
“You’re excited?”
“Yes,” he replied looking back up at you, “I can lie and say I haven’t thought about this before?”
A mischievous gasp left your mouth at his words. The combination of him thinking about fucking you and actually fucking you was causing your body to heat up. The temperature in the room increased and the tension felt even thicker than before. You kept a slow pace at first, hands on his shoulders in your attempt to remain balanced. It truly was adorable at how into you he truly was in this moment.
“We can do this as many times as you want now baby,” you cooed, “this is only the beginning if you want it to be.”
You picked up speed a little not wanting to go too fast, but needing just enough friction and gratification to work towards your high. Chan was so immersed in you that his hands barely lingered across your hips. It had come to your attention that maybe he genuinely needed some assistance. It was clear that even though the agreement was that his stress relief was in the palm of your hands, it was important to him that for you, it was equally enjoyable.
“You know you can touch me,” you whispered, giving his palms a gentle nudge upwards. It didn’t take much, almost like his hands were in, or on, their most natural position; your tits. A gentle moan escaped your lips at the contrasting ice cold temperature of his fingertips lingering on your nipples. The long string of moans and gasps from Chan was becoming anything but adorable. Each noise he made aroused you even more. The gentle massage of his hands was delightful. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about this. Especially when you were frustrated, stressed, or having a dry spell, the physicality of Chan was always a lingering cognition. Always there to coax you through your sexual frustration. If anything, this became stress relief for the both of you. Chan because he was stressed out because he needed to pass the exam, and yourself because now you didn’t have to suppress the surplus of fantasies and desires that stayed awake in your mind.
“Mmm, how are you doing Chan?”
“So good,” he growled, “I don’t know if I can last much longer.”
A small giggle escaped your lips. Keeping your composure, but really you were grateful because you could feel the pit in the depth of your lower abdomen. Your orgasm was coming, and there was nothing you could do about it. Although you did all the work, his cock was hitting you in the exact spot you needed. The slapping of your ass against his groin was getting louder, and you rhythm faster yet a little erratic, the intensity of him starting to overwhelm you.
“Y/n, wait,” he paused, making you stop in your tracks, “I don’t want to cum in you.”
A pout puffed from your lips at his words.
“You don’t?”
“Well,” Chan gulped, “I would, but I didn’t think-”
Instead of letting him finish, your index finger was across his lips, completely shushing him.
“You shouldn’t assume things about me Mr. Bang.”
You picked your hips up again, leaning back on his knees he bucked your hips, rapidly feeling the strokes of Chan’s cock. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly. The way you were dying to see the face he made when he came, how he looked at you was your soul volition in this very moment. 
“Are you gonna cum?”
“Fuck, Y/n please,” he moaned, his loudest noise yet.
He nodded, jaw slack open as you rode him like your life depended on it. His cock was twitching at a rapid rate, hipe gently bucking into yours as he felt his high coming. 
“Would you like to cum in me?”
He nodded once more.
“Cum in me Chan, cum in me, come one baby, you can do it.”
 Chan mouthing ‘fuck’ one more time, before completely blowing his load inside of you. His jaw cracked, distressed gasp strangling his throat as he grabbed your hips, controlling your speed as you milked him dry, your orgasm waving over you simultaneously. 
“Oh my god,” you moaned, knowing Chan was guiding you through it, but at this point, you didn't even care. It felt too good to discipline him for not letting you do everything. You stood up, a sharp groan coming from you as you felt his seed drip out. 
“Fuck, what if-” 
“Don’t worry,” you interrupted once more, “I’m on the pill.”
A sigh of relief disappeared from his chest.
You lied down next to him, trying to catch your breath as he turned to look at you.
“How do you feel?”
“Y/n that was amazing?”
You chuckled at his admiration, turning to him and seeing the sweat condensate across his forehead. Wow, did you make him work up a sweat.
“Still stressed out?”
“Far from it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, hope I wasn’t too overpowering or anything.”
“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, “it was really fucking hot actually.”
Fuck. You kissed him again, really enjoying the validation of your feminine power over him. It was a nice moment, that was until you heard a knock on the door. Fuck. The two of you were so immersed in what you were doing, that you completely forgot about the study session with the others.
“Shit, uh, just put your clothes on, I’ll stall them.”
You nodded, quickly redressing yourself and heading to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up, looking at the mirror and shit, did you kinda look like a mess. A pang of embarrassment hit your chest. How on earth were you supposed to just hang out with your friends, and act like you didn’t just fuck one of them. Nevertheless, there was no time to think about it, fixing your hair as much as you could before opening the door, and returning to the lounge where the others smirked at you when you walked in.
“Hey guys,” you smiled, choosing to ignore them, “what’s going on?”
“What are you already doing here?”
The two of you gave each other a quick look, praying to the lords that you came up with the same explanation.
“Oh me? I only got here like 5 minutes before you guys.”
“Oh you did,” Felix chimed in, sarcastically placing a hand on his chin, like a detective, “and Chan, why do you look almost sweaty?”
“Uh me, well I just had a shower before you guys got here. Then Y/n knocked about 10 minutes later.”
You shrugged, nervously chuckling and just praying they were taking this.
“Fuck Y/n, please,” Changbin whined, mocking Chan. Your eyes grew wide.
“Yeah come on baby, cum in me cum in me,” Felix added, making everyone burst into laughter. Your face was as red as a bunch of tomatoes. They heard everything. Fuck, this was embarrassing.
“You guys don’t have to lie, you know. We saw this coming from a mile away.”
“You did?” The two of you asked in unison, making the rest of them laugh again.
“I mean yeah,” Felix shrugged, “I’m sure this is what all the ‘extra studying’ was for.”
“No dude,” Chan began to yell, even you giggling at him now getting defensive, “I do need help! I’m terrible at this!”
“Is he y/n?”
“Terrible at psych? A little,” you paused, sitting down next to Felix on Chan’s couch, “sex? Absolutely not.”
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chalametluvrz · 1 month
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jealousy looks good on you
steve harrington x afab!reader
tags gender neutral pronouns. dormmate!steve. cocky!steve. boarderline fuckboy!steve. jealous reader. stubborn reader. very subtle mentions of sex. mentions of arguments. reader is in denial about their feelings. steve is pretty smug. teasing. angsty if you could even count it as that. tbh there's not much to tag lol.
note the entire piece is completely gender neutral, i only tagged it as afab just incase i do a part 2 with smut <33 so lmk if u’d be down for a part 2!!!
wc 1.1k
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you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy living with steve; yeah, sure he was loud, he was annoying and you found yourself cleaning up after him on a regular basis, but he was a decent dormmate.
honestly, you were filled with anxiety when you first got told you'd be co-existing with steve-fucking-harrington for your first year of college. your entire high school career, he'd been the popular kid, extremely unaware of how he actually treated every other 'normal' person who just wanted to speed through their schooling years with good grades and then completely disappear from that shit-hole of a town.
but it turns out, he's not the super cool kid everyone jacked him up to be. if anything, he was a moron, a big clutz that could yap for hours on end if you let him.
but like i'd previously said; he was annoying. he was a pain in the ass a lot of the time. noisy at stupid hours in the morning. constantly distracting you when you're trying to study. loud conversations with whichever one-week girlfriend he had. always bickering with you over simple things like what's on the tv, whose chocolate is that in the fridge or how long each of you takes in the bathroom.
yet, amongst all that, there was still room in your heart to have a tiny little crush on him. which when you thought about it, was ridiculous, because you wouldn't even consider each other friends.
however, last night, you had a kind of big argument. it all started when you were trying to study and he was doing nothing but get on your nerves, purposefully trying to distract you all night, despite your constant pleading for him to stop because you had a big test coming up and you didn't want to fail.
somehow it led to him saying you were boring and stubborn, that all your studying is never going to guarantee you a ticket out of hawkin's after you graduate. and even after all that, he still managed to slip in that you have nothing going for you but your 'mediocre' intelligence and that's why you have never had many friends your entire life. which hurt. it hurt a lot.
big jerk, high school steve had suddenly made an appearance back in the room.
and to which, you responded by saying that it's not your fault he doesn't care about his academic achievements and that he'll be stuck in a dead-end job being a disappointment his entire life because all he cares about is getting his dick wet, and nothing else. which hurt him equally as much as he hurt you.
you hadn't spoken since, and just like steve had said; you're stubborn; so you didn't really plan to. thankfully, steve had early lessons today, whereas you had late ones so your paths had yet to meet. but you'd be lying if you said you weren't anxious about going back home after your 7pm lecture finished.
eventually that time arrived, and you were unlocking your front door, praying to whoever was up there in the clouds that steve was in his room so you could slip in and lock yourself away for the night.
little did you know, since he knew you were gonna have late lessons, he invited over a girl he'd been speaking to for.. what was it? literally less than a day.. to do 'certain' fun activities with. and steve thought this said girl would be able to slip out before you even arrived home, so you can imagine the shock on his face when he saw you standing in the doorway as he was kissing this girl goodbye.
you scoff a little at the sight. he was completely proving the point you made last night. he doesn't care about anything but getting his dick wet by every girl he speaks to.
"i.. um. i'll see you later, steve," the girl mumbled, hurrying out of the door because even an idiot could sense the tension between the both of you.
you roll your eyes a little before placing your bag and laptop on the kitchen island. not even speaking as you strolled past him.
"so what.. you're just not going to speak to me?" he asks, running one of his hands through his messy hair. and to that, you didn't respond. "y/n. seriously," steve continues, his voice showing a slight hint of aggression.
"yes, actually. i'm not going to speak to you," you reply bluntly, not even bothering to look up at him. you could feel some brewing in your stomach, like something was churning inside but you just didn't know what it was. all you knew was that it made you feel so anxious you wanted to throw up. it was obviously jealousy but you just couldn't bring yourself to admit it.
"you're speaking to me right now," steve smirks, cockily, knowing exactly how to get under your skin. you just glare at him and say nothing. "come on.. this can't be about our bickering last night?" he says, slightly astonished you were still holding that against him "you know i didn't mean it."
"well, maybe i did," you snap a little, gesturing towards the door and the girl that had just left.
steve chuckled a little at your words and rolled his eyes. "are you talking about her?" he asked, unable to contain his amusement towards the situation. "i.." steve started up, but then stopped the second he realised. were you.. jealous?
it caused him to smirk a little. you were jealous and that's why you were so worked up, and that's why you were so annoyed by him getting his 'dick wet' all the time.. because you were jealous but you were too caught up standing on your high horse to even allow yourself to believe that was true.
who would have guessed it, little y/n, the person who spends all day studying and worrying about their grades fancied steve. mr sleeps around and doesn't care about his grades. steve honestly found it all so funny, so much that he couldn't hold in a little laugh.
"what's so funny?" you say, getting defensive and his sudden burst of laughter.
"oh.. it's nothing," steve replies, deflecting your question.
"no. whats funny?"
"honestly, it's nothing, darling," he smirks, feeling progressively more pleased with himself as he saw your cheeks flush a little at the pet name. 'gotcha' he thought to himself. "don't you worry, i haven't got eyes for her," steve teases, his voice dripping with arrogance that made you want to smack the smug look off his face.
"and um.. y/n," steve says, turning to face you for just a moment. "jealousy looks so.. so good on you," he smirked, giving you a little wink before walking back into his room. leaving you dumbfounded and embarrassed that he was even able to notice.
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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 9 *final chapter* (4.9k words)
Summary: Final chapter! Valeria thinks of the past as you're released from custody. She wants the two of you to move on but she can't shake the feeling that there's still danger to be faced. Warnings: lesbian smut Note + tag list at the end Link to A03 Link to masterlist with all the parts
Valeria thought of the moment you met. Or rather, the moment she met you because you hadn’t noticed her.
It was many years ago when she was a soldier of the Mexican Army, when she was younger and lost. When she would wander the streets of Las Almas on her days off, unsure of what she was looking for. Back when her skin was tighter, her voice quieter, when she used to follow other people’s orders. It was another hot day when she got sent out of the headquarters to fetch some lunch for her squad – her most loathsome task. She hated how she’d run into other female soldiers her age during the lunch run and feel the burdened femaleness of the task. Hated having a male squad leader who found every chance to shove her in the kitchen by making her fetch something from one. She felt like an armed waitress. And worst of all, she hated the conversations that would happen when she was not there, when the team was finally ‘free’ to speak its mind without having to worry about offending someone. But she bit her tongue and said nothing. It was like a rite of passage for people like her. The go-to kitchen was one run by old Renata, an aged woman who ran a tiny thing in the corner that was able to produce an incredible amount of delicious food. Renata was a small, capable woman who sped around the place fulfilling everyone’s orders. There were never any complaints, and it was close enough to the headquarters that most soldiers used it as their prime takeout spot. She was open from noon till late and was favoured enough that Renata never had to worry about security because there were always soldiers there. Renata winked at Valeria as she approached the kitchen, which was already steaming with food. The restaurant was on the ground floor of a blue building; the restaurant dwelled on the ground floor and the upper floors were for residents. The outdoor part of the kitchen included a counter with stools and some outdoor fridges full of drinks and lollies. Large pans cooked steamy food at the front whilst a narrow, dark hallway led to an area in the back where the rest happened. The smell of spiced food and the loud sound of the fridge containing ice cold drinks were delightful to Valeria’s senses. She held a piece of paper in her hands.
“Valeria, my sweet. What can I get for you?” Renata asked with that warm, maternal glow that some old women had. It made a painful lump emerge in Valeria’s throat; she swallowed it down. Valeria slid the note to her. “Just the usual, Senora. Thank you.”
Renata glanced at the paper and smiled as Valeria took a seat on one of the stools by the counter. “I’ll add it to the tab,” said the woman and vanished to the other side of the kitchen. It was a hot day yet still busy, even with regular civilians eating or picking up food. Valeria’s mind wandered to things that were occupying her at the moment when she saw the flash of a hair ribbon flicker from the hallway. A shadowed figure moved around hurriedly, moving cartons of stuff per Renata’s instructions. The old woman emerged again with packaged food to give to someone. There was nothing interesting about a hair ribbon, plenty of girls wove them in their plaits. But for some reason, Valeria’s eye stayed fixated on the spot, waiting to see that colour flicker again.
“It’s my granddaughter,” said Renata whilst wrapping something in plastic. Valeria looked around only to realise that Renata was speaking to her. “You have family?” Valeria asked before she could stop herself. But Renata only laughed, the sound was like the jingle of bells caught in the wind.
“Oh yes, plenty. I just don’t like to share my business, but that one’s good. She’s helping out for a bit.” Renata bagged some drinks and held them out to Valeria.
The ribbon flickered again, the colour shone from the few specks of light that fell on the shadows. It was a soft purple colour and attached to a long length of hair. There was something in the way that it glided amongst the darkness of the hallway, how it followed the curve of your movements. It danced like a fallen flower petal and although Valeria was not particularly feminine, there was something that drew her to it. But before she could see more, she had her bag of food and had to return. Curious to see more, Valeria returned right before Renata closed up the place with the excuse that she came to cover the tab.
And that’s when she saw the rest of you. Your skin glistened with sweat underneath the lamp lights, Valeria saw you at work from afar before she approached. A girl with quick hands bobbing her head back and forth between pans, a fistful of paper orders leaking from her front pocket. Large, beautiful eyes that fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. You shone a polite smile at Valeria, acknowledging her as a customer whilst you finished serving someone. Valeria knew from that moment that you would be hers, pure intuition told her so. And so she enjoyed this moment where you were still complete strangers, because soon enough you would be more than that. There was something about the tense line of your mouth as you concentrated, the way it hid your lips that made Valeria want to reach in and remove what ailed you.
“Sorry, what can I get you?” You asked, your hands reaching for a plastic container, waiting for the name of a food. Instead, Valeria outstretched her hand.
“Valeria Garza. Sergeant.” It was something about the way Valeria’s way of speaking that made you look up and see her properly. She had that look soldiers had, that straight back and tone of authority, no matter what their actual rank was. You saw plenty of her people every day who just wanted a service and nothing more. But this one spoke to you. Something fluttered in your stomach when you shook Valeria’s hand. Her hand didn’t hold itself against yours for a few seconds the way that polite handshakes did. It fit your palm perfectly and as Valeria removed her hand, you felt the ends of her fingers caress the length of your palm as if hesitant to lose your touch.
“Y/N,” you said.
Valeria remembered this as she saw you changing your clothes right before your release. The ‘day’ of your release was actually a night as a matter of safety. It was thought best to release such a high-profile person as Valeria when the prison was closed for the night, to avoid the traffic of visitors. The two of you were the only ones in the room but you still covered parts of you whilst changing. Valeria looked at your hair wistfully. “Why don’t you wear ribbons anymore?” She asked.
You looked at her confused and shrugged. “I don’t know. One day I just stopped.” You continued changing. Many years had passed since you met; your body and your hair had changed. When you met, you were young enough to not have quite filled into your womanly features. Those last remnants of puppy fat that cling to women in their early 20s were gone, parts of you were plumper than they used to be, and your hair had changed too. But none of that changed how Valeria looked at you, that twinkle of adoration.
“Yes, but why?” Valeria sat there, staring.
“It’s like the last day you went to play outside. I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t realise it in the moment. But I just never did it again.” You saw how Valeria looked at you in that moment, her dark eyes taking in your body, a hunger. Her lips were pursed. “Is it because you used to do it for Diane?” Valeria saw your movements falter for a second. You scoffed lightly. “When did you remember her?” You mumbled to yourself and stood straight, brushing down your clothes. “Did you though?” Valeria asked. You folded the prison attire and left it in a box. “I told you, baby. I don’t know.” There was a nervous impatience creeping into your voice that Valeria didn’t like, but it was understandable. The closer you got to freedom, the harder it was to stay in there. Valeria knew her question was provocative and frankly unnecessary, but she couldn’t stop herself. She could sense a change in the wind, but Valeria could not yet understand what was happening “I miss them,” said Valeria softly, thinking of the ribbons. She had changed to her usual attire, a black turtleneck clinging to her upper body with her classic chain around her neck. Her work belt was waiting for her past the upcoming security check and she felt its absence on her waist like a phantom limb. Visions of the past had started haunting her recently, creeping up in her waking moments. She wasn’t usually this sentimental and spaced out, but something had changed recently – you could tell. She was becoming…not softer, but wistful of things that were no more. Her fuss about the ribbon was just the latest. She would randomly ask you about what happened to that old garment that you wore on your first date. Or what happened to that bracelet she got you on your first anniversary? And what about that dessert you stopped making?
“What do you think old Renata is up to now?” She asked and you just about lost it. You breathed carefully to calm yourself before turning to your wife, who was now rising from her seat. You caught her hands and placed them on your cheeks, and it snapped Valeria out of her trance.
“Val,” you said in no more than a whisper. “We’ve talked about this.” Your eyes held Valeria’s dark ones, silently pleading for her mercy. Valeria nodded and looked away.
You thought about this change in her behaviour as you left the facility. It was not lost on you that Valeria was getting older and had an atypical, queer life. The regular marks of life were lost to the two of you; you had no children, no ‘regular’ income with Valeria’s operation, and no holidays with family. The two of you were your own unit and were happy. But recent events had pulled the rug beneath Valeria’s feet, and you wondered if she was starting to question the point of all this. The heavy metal door of the entrance opened up to the darkness of the outside world. It was a cloudy night with no moonlight and no stars, but the fresh country air brushed your cheeks blissfully.
Security was tight, you made out the shapes of guards everywhere you looked and there was a cacophony from the barks of police dogs. Harsh white lights were set to guide you towards the helipad where Valeria’s helicopter rested. And there, amidst the harshness of the yard, was an unmarked vehicle and a woman leaning on it. Her eyes were set on the pair of you as you stepped out. Valeria tightened her hold on your hand.
“What is it now? She whispered to herself as you walked forward. More was visible of that woman as you got closer. She was a middle-aged white woman with a neat, prim appearance. Her hair was a pale colour, somewhere between blonde and white, kept in a neat bun. And her eyes were a piercing blue colour. In fact, she could’ve been older. Her eyes never left Valeria. This usually happened on the rare occasion that you were introduced to someone in Valeria’s presence – they spoke to both of you but really, they spoke to Valeria. Valeria let out a strange noise as she recognized the woman.
“Valeria and Y/N Garza,” she said and glanced at you momentarily. “Congratulations on your release. I wanted to personally apologise on behalf of Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros for the terrible mishandling of your extraction.” Those pale, disconcerting eyes turned to you. They reminded you of a snake. “And I want to personally apologise to you, Y/N Garza, for your terrible treatment during custody. I want to assure you that the person responsible has-"
“Speaking to my wife is a privilege,” Valeria’s cold voice interjected loudly. “No one has it, and especially not you, Kate Laswell." The woman, Kate, pursed her lips together and nodded. She seemed like a powerful woman to you; the way she stood with perfect posture, the neatness of her appearance. And most of all, that shiny American badge handing off her heck. And yet she allowed herself to be scolded by Valeria. "I understand you’re upset, and you have every right to. I just wanted to affirm the terms of our agreement-" “If you want to communicate with me, you have my lawyer’s details. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a home to return to.” Valeria said and nodded her head towards the helicopter, which was now moving its fans rapidly. “Come on,” she mumbled to you. The two of you started walking around Kate, but that woman turned to you again. “I would have done the same for my wife,” said Kate. Valeria stopped and glanced back at Kate with disdain, it was a glance so full of disgust that it made you look away. “You’re nothing like me,” Valeria spat out.
Valeria turned and helped you up the helicopter, then entered herself. There was something about the desperate gesture of goodwill from another woman-lover that felt too precious to allow to disappear. This woman didn’t have to do this, but she still chose to be here, like a daffodil emerging of out of deep snow at the beginning of spring. Unexpected, but welcome. You turned to look at the woman one last time, but Valeria saw what was about to happen and slammed the door quickly before you could say anything. The helicopter lifted off the ground immediately. You turned to her sharply.
“I wanted to thank her,” you complained. Valeria said nothing as she put on her headpiece and began handling the helicopter’s navigation. You gazed out of the window as the world got smaller. Kate didn’t take her eyes off you until she became just another tiny thing on the ground. You wondered what all this was about and tried to release your curiosity. It was probably to do with whatever Valeria did to have you released, that terrible thing she wanted you to stay out of.
After what seemed like forever, you could see the familiar shape of your estate come into focus. You all but leapt out of the aircraft when it touched the grass of your home, which you noticed was trimmed. Valeria must’ve had the place cleaned up and maintained during your time in custody. You noticed Valeria’s frantic scrambling for anything that might have been mailed in, and soon enough the ‘business’ part of the estate was in full swing. Men ran around per Valeria’s loud orders, her shouts echoing down the many hallways. You tried not to feel hurt when she entered her study and locked the door behind her. You headed for your golden bathroom and filled the tub with hot, soapy water.
You immersed yourself inside and tried to clean yourself of all that happened. You washed off the cold looks from the man with the skull masked, scrubbed off Alejandro’s threats, and rinsed off the old skin of a body that dwelled in confinement. You then lathered your body with all the scented creams you could combine until you smelled like a flower nymph, you dressed your body in the silkiest garments you could find. Anything to return to the woman you were before Alejandro had leapt inside yours and Valeria’s bedroom.
You were almost asleep by the time Valeria returned. Her steps were so quiet that she startled you when she suddenly slipped inside the sheets, coming to spoon you from behind. She burrowed her face in the nook of your neck and inhaled deeply, you felt the softness of her skin on your back as she held you close. As she exhaled, you smelled the faint linger of nicotine in her breath and grumbled. “Just for tonight, baby. I’m sorry.” She said and gave small pecks to your jaw and then the back of your ears. “You smell so good,” she mumbled and tugged at your ears with her teeth. One of her hands roamed the length of your figure and you leaned back towards her body, feeling the soft and hard parts of her. The softness of her chest and tummy, the firmness of her upper arms, the strength of her legs as they snaked around yours and held you in place. You turned and shared a big, long kiss. You tasted the faint linger of smoky nicotine in her mouth mixed with the tangy sweetness of alcohol. She had celebrated your return home in her own way.
Valeria pulled back from you. “What if we left?” she asked, her lips almost touching yours. Her eyes were closed as she said this, and you nuzzled your face to hers. Suddenly, you felt how cold she was: she must’ve been smoking outside. It was something she did rarely because you hated the smell and you had always warned her about how it would yellow her teeth. It was a hard habit to break and although she was mostly clean, there were moments where she just needed a smoke.
You cupped the back of her head, the softness of her hair awakened something inside of you. A hunger, a warmth that glowed within you; you felt the same thing linger in Valeria’s body, down her legs and in her abdomen. The silence of the estate reminded you of your returned privacy. “I’d follow you anywhere,” you whispered and kissed her. Valeria moaned into the kiss, that delightful sound buzzed on your skin. She held your face with her hand, deepening the kiss until your bodies were desperately crashing into each other. Sloppy, wet kisses were interrupted by the shuffle of your bedsheets as you clawed at each other’s layers, begging to see and feel the other’s skin.
“You’re so cold, my love,” you whispered as Valeria pulled down your nightgown. Your breasts came into view and the sight elicited a soft noise from your wife. Valeria’s eyes darkened as she looked at them. She removed her final layer and tossed it across the room. “Come warm me up,” she said and pulled you on top of her. Your body fit onto hers and you enjoyed how similar yet different the two of you were. Two soft bodies pressing into each other; one cold, one warm. The tantalizing softness of your chests being brought together; the way she pressed you down onto her as she sought your warmth and softness, wanting to desperately feel your wetness onto her own. You kissed and allowed Valeria’s greedy tongue into your mouth, one of her hands kept travelling further down your back and she slowly inserted one of her fingers inside you. The kiss broke and you moaned weakly. Valeria moved her head higher to steal your lips again. Her finger stretched and curled, teasingly lingering close to your sensitive spot.
“That’s what you were thinking about. Right, princess?” Valeria asked and made you look at her, her finger exited and caressed your special spot on the outside, wetting your clit with your juices. “Yes,” you mewled, and she rewarded you with two fingers.
“You’re so warm,” Valeria whispered, and you kissed again. She slowed down and pumped weakly in and out of you, making you move your lower body desperately for more. You felt Valeria chuckle beneath you, she found it amusing when you moved yourself onto her hands; Valeria wanted to feel imperative to the path of your desire. She was the keeper of your pleasure, an instrument to your love making, your path to bliss. She urged you to keep going and just watched you dance to the song of your passion, watched as you moved to straddle her. The sight of your breasts bouncing up and down as you rose and lowered yourself onto her hand.
“Be loud for me, baby. I’ve missed it.” Valeria said as you bit your lip. Arousal made you bold and when Valeria moved her hand so it pumped into you, you spread your legs and moved frantically to your climax. Your cries of pleasure mixed with Valeria’s commands to keep going, to keep clenching onto her like the desperate, lovely thing that you were. To be good and open your legs more so she can see you come prettily, like you always did. You closed your eyes as the sensitive, hot spot within you erupted and the heat reverberated across your body. Valeria sighed satisfyingly as she pumped a bit more into you, making you jolt in your place as she sought the last scraps of your orgasm.
You looked down and found Valeria smiling to herself. “You’re glistening like a diamond, my love.” You huffed and breathed out from your slightly swollen lips, then lowered yourself onto her again. Valeria made a small noise as your ground your wetness all over hers, shivering as you rubbed onto her clit. Your hand reached into a drawer of your bedside table as you continued this movement until you found what you were looking for. “My love…” Valeria trailed off as she noticed this.
“You missed your favourite, no?” You said and brought her favourite toy in sight, a lengthy vibrator. You wanted her to have a truly special moment now that you were back home and safe to express the true potential of your eroticism. And there was one thing in particular that you felt she needed, something that was more than just the gratification of her senses: words of love. “Let me speak my love to you,” you said. Valeria’s eyes were dark with lust, and she flushed at the sight of the toy. But beneath that passion lay something vulnerable. Something that needed to be gently caressed. Valeria’s recent ramblings had concerned you and the way she mentioned your ex today was the nail in the coffin. Valeria, you felt, was feeling insecure. Intimacy is more than just sex, it is the tenderness of sweet words whispered between kisses and licks, it is found in the gentle touch of a lover who sees behind the desire within your eyes and speaks to the person in there who is desperate to unify with their partner. Who wants to reach true intimacy, to embed their soul unto yours. Sweet words were necessary with Valeria, but you couldn’t do that when using your tongue for other things. Valeria was quiet, she tugged at your lips with her teeth and opened her legs.
“You know how much I love you, Val.” You said whilst gazing into your eyes. Valeria nodded and you kissed, your hands positioned themselves close to Valeria’s core.
“I want to be with you forever,” you whispered and caressed the clean plastic onto Valeria’s wetness, you felt her sigh shakily.
“I want to make you feel good, baby,” you pecked at her neck in between your words. Valeria’s little noises hummed out of her as you tugged at the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, the spot that made her squirm. “Y/N…” she whimpered your name pleadingly and the toy came to life. “I love you more than anything,” you said as you made love to her. The toy vibrated tantalizingly on her clit and rested there as you inserted a finger inside. Valeria moaned out your name and pleaded for kisses with her eyes, which you granted.
"Does my love feel good?” You asked her and she nodded whilst biting her lip. Valeria threw her head to the side with ecstasy. She cried out for more, which you delivered. You increased the toy’s setting and slowed down with your fingers so she could enjoy more of her pleasure. “You’re so beautiful,” you moaned and busied yourself with your wife’s throat, licking and kissing and biting it. Seeing Valeria like that turned you on and you lowered your core onto hers, feeling the second-hand vibrations bounce from Valeria’s skin onto yours. Valeria’s hands trailed down your back, making you shiver. The sounds of wet skin slapping, of moans and gasps filled your marital bedroom, the bedframe creaked as you made passionate love. “Come on, come on,” you mewled and pumped into her faster than before. You could tell she was close from her movements, her fingernails were digging into your skin almost painfully, but the discomfort got lost amidst the high of your sex. “Show me your love, Val. Come for me.” You took one of her nipples in your mouth and pinched it with your teeth and it sent Valeria to her climax. “I’m here, baby. I’m here,” she moaned as she started to erupt in orgasm. You saw a glimpse of insecurity flash her eyes as she wet the bed, but you drew out all of it with your fingers. “It’s natural baby, give all of it to me.” You said and she released it all.
"I’m so proud of you, baby. You haven’t done that in a while.” You said and kissed her forehead. Valeria huffed out and gave you a small smile, her cheeks were flushed with colour.
You cleaned each other in the bathroom with the shy smiles and looks of people who were happy but slightly embarrassed in hindsight. “It’s normal, my love,” you kept saying and washed off Valeria’s skin. The two of you lay in bed for a long time after that, not falling asleep but caressing each other’s skin in the darkness.
“You want to leave?” You asked and heard Valeria sigh next to you.
“I’m scared, Y/N.” She said finally. “He won’t leave us alone.” Fear tugged at your heart as you listened to her. “You think he’ll come after us again?” Valeria nodded next to you, she didn’t need to ask to know who you meant. “You saw how much he hates me, Y/N. And now he hates you. I know Alejandro well enough to know this: he will not stop. I don’t know how he’ll do it, but I know it.” You lay there in silence for a bit as you thought it out. Those people know where you live now – Alejandro’s team and the people he worked with. And who’s to say that the rest wouldn’t want revenge too. You remembered that masked man who removed you from the container, the one with the skull face. You remembered how his partner got hurt when you fled, maybe worse. What if he also wants revenge for what happened? You got him in trouble, didn’t you?” You asked her and felt Valeria turn to you sharply. You spoke quickly before she could jump to any conclusions. “I haven’t inferred anything more, I promise. And I won’t ask. But I can tell that much. You think he’ll want revenge for that?” Valeria shifted next to you and, for the first time ever, she let you to a part of her that was carefully guarded. The mastermind behind everything. “Yes.” You turned and softly pressed your forehead onto hers. The smell of soap on her skin mixed with her natural smell and as you inhaled it, you felt how badly you wanted the moment to last forever. “Let’s leave, Val.”
For the rest of the night, whispers of forgotten dreams and giggles over potential occupations turned your bedroom into a portal of the wildest parts of your imagination. What if you retired early by the seaside? What if you finally wrote that cooking book that you sometimes daydreamed about when setting the table? And what if Valeria became an art collector with the rest of her money? What if you vanished into thin air?
*
It was many months later when someone visited that estate again. A figure jumped over a wall in the middle of the night and shuffled around the bushes. Their eyes scanned the perimeter with the movements of a predator that sought its prey. That person slowly arose to their full height in disbelief: the place was entirely deserted. Only some scraps of light from lampposts illuminated whatever was left behind. The house was a shell of its former self, dark and devoid of people. Gnarly bushes of roses and overgrown weeds desecrated the once carefully maintained garden, they stretching out their green, thorny limbs to tear at the man’s uniform. Alejandro cursed loudly as he looked around, he called out to someone. And somewhere far away, two women danced in their warm kitchen, swinging their hips and laughing as their dinner cooked. In the living room, a fire was going in the fireplace, and they would later sit and sip their wine whilst watching a film. And then, they would go to bed. Because your life didn’t end when you were stolen from your wife. And her life didn’t end when she lost you. You would find each other over and over again just so you could dance like this. This moment was infinite. There was only one way things could have ended, and this was it. In Valeria’s arms, hearing your food bubble in the pot. Life didn’t have to be about money and blood and fear. It could be about dancing in the kitchen with your love late at night, seeing Valeria’s eyes twinkle beneath the light.
Note: Final chapter y'all we did it! Thank you so much for reading my story, I hope you liked the ending. This is the first fanfic I've ever finished omg. I got very attached to Valeria and Y/N's story so of course they needed a happy ending :) Writing this series has been so fun for me, thank you for all the comments and likes!
tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier @xreals @coffeeandtealol
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f6bron · 4 months
Text
delicate lilac.
pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader
notes : bad boy x sunshine trope, mutual-pining but both of them are unaware of it, potential friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff >.<
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The campus buzzed with energy as students hurriedly moved from one class to another. Among the sea of people, Li Zhao Yu, also known as Iso, stood out—an enigmatic figure with a formidable reputation that sent shivers through many.
Yet, beneath the intimidating facade, a softer side existed, one that only revealed itself in the presence of one person.
And that's you, Y/N L/N.
As the two of you and your friends strolled through the campus, Iso couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched you interact with your friends. Laughter filled the air, and Iso's eyes followed the movement of your lips as you spoke animatedly.
Your plump cherry lips, soft skin, and the way the sun highlighted your features. He longed for the day he could receive a similar treatment from you.
"Must be nice," he thought, unconsciously fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
"Iso?" you called, snapping him back to reality.
Stammering, caught off guard by your sudden attention, he replied, "Y-yeah?"
You let out a tiny giggle, a sound that made warmth creep up onto Iso's face. "What were you daydreamin' about?"
"Oh, nothing. I… I was just thinking about–" Iso fumbled over his words, nervousness taking over. Are you being for real, Iso?! This is not you!
Before he could realize it, you slipped a piece of candy into his rough and calloused hands—a stark contrast between your soft and delicate hands and his rugged ones.
"Huh?" he questioned, giving you a puzzled look.
"You said you wanted a strawberry-flavoured candy," you reminded him, a soft smile playing on your lips.
Iso could feel warmth engulfing his heart, not expecting you to remember the tiny details he mentioned during the casual conversation you guys had on your way to class.
"Don't tell anyone, but… I kinda stole it from Jett."
"Really… for me?" Iso asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Yeah! For you!" you replied, causing Iso to chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
"Thanks…"
"All right, lovebirds! Enough of that," Phoenix interjected from behind, placing his hands on both Iso's and your shoulders. "We gotta get movin'."
"We're not—"
"Whatever," Phoenix shrugged, cutting Iso off.
"See you at the cafeteria later." he said, winking at you before leaving. Iso sent a harsh glare to Phoenix, the audacity for him to wink at you.
He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Take care, Y/N. Text me after you're done with your classes, okay?"
Iso sighed internally, wishing he could be there for you 24/7.
You nodded shyly before joining the rest of your friends to head to class. "Mhm… you too."
Even though Iso is a notorious class-skipper, up to everyone's surprise, he has been showing up to lectures lately. It's all because he couldn't resist the charm of Y/N's pout.
The thought of being the cause of that disappointed expression wrecks his heart a bit. He would trade his soul if it means seeing that cute smile of yours, and to get complimented by you.
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Iso caught up and walked alongside Phoenix, still holding the strawberry-flavored candy you gave him earlier. Phoenix shot him a knowing look. "If you're gonna play pretend, just give up."
"Huh?"
"Are you being for real, lad?" Phoenix nudged Iso's shoulder. "You never look so ‘down bad’ over a person." Iso sighed, finally getting the point.
"Is it too obvious?" Iso replied, popping the candy into his mouth effortlessly.
"Yeah, too obvious. ‘Saw how a love shape starts forming in your eyes as soon as Y/N appears in your sight." Phoenix teased, smirking.
Iso chuckled, the image of adorable you started playing in his mind. Not like you’ll ever leave it anyway.
"Come on, man. You can't blame me. Y/N is too cute to resist."
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(A/N): THIS LOOKS RUSHED IM SORRY anyways im thinking of turning badboy!iso into a series but we'll see...
masterlist.
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nexusnyx · 1 year
Note
So much love to you sweetheart! Major congrats on hitting 10! That’s SUCH a huge achievement! You deserve 10,000 more and you *know it*.
Can I ask for…
🖊️ Breath-hitching when they get close with Joel? I feel like it’s such a JOEL thing. His expression stays the same, his body language is stiff, but he can’t deny the way his heart stops when you’re nearby 🥹
SO MUCH LOVE TO U
So, there you go tingling all the right bits in my brain. I love the idea of tension with Joel because he's just soooo serious, isn't he? I wanna thank you first of all, babes, idk if I'll ever make it to 10k more but just knowing you think I deserve it is good enough. — main masterlist | fireplace celebration | 🏷️: established relationship, soft!Joel, pet names, mentions of smut, minors DNI; [WC: 1.2k]
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ edges start to burn꒱
This thing with Joel was new. Tentative, and big.
It was like a dip in deep ocean, something you have only one clear memory of.
After dancing around each other for far too long, he’d done something about the tension that was born in the air every time the two of you were alone, and now, it was like getting to know Joel all over again. All the nervousness, the electric shocks whenever he bumped into you or talked too close to your ears—everything it took you goddamn months to get used to, and the fact that it now came with more.
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It was torture, and yet, you both loved it.
Since the kiss after the campfire, now Joel smiled at you differently.
You’d seen it the first time after he pulled away, his hands still cupping your neck and his arms around you holding you back from collapsing on the floor in a thousand tiny pieces. He was smiling. It was—shy. Coy. A little cocky, too, specially with the smugness in his voice when he said, “open your eyes, darlin’.”
Joel became a hazard to your health.
Every time he inched closer, it made the oxygen in your body to behave funny—it stilled. His voice and his presence were like the zero degree hit mark, and you became ice under his touch before you melted away.
He takes it slow.
Painfully slow, if anyone asked you, but it’s still fine. Joel’s look has a promise of something bigger, and it keeps you on your toes. It’s better that he grows you used to the curling in your toes when he kisses you long and deep, or trail his hands on your body.
That’s how you’ll survive something more—dosed on him.
Joel crawls inside of you like something wild. He comes in bit by bit, trusting your smiles the more they come. He takes a while before allowing you to caress him the same you he loves doing you.
While his hands have trailed almost all of your body — trembling, shaking, breathing through the assistance of his own breath too close to yours and his gaze holding a dark cloud over you, his whispers of ‘it’s ok, darlin’—feels good, doesn’t it? I like seein’ you squirm like this’ driving you into a foggy haze — that was all that happened. Joel kissed you and ground your hips into his, letting you claw at his scalp and hold onto him for dear life, but it was only you who fell apart at first.
Then, one day, your hands traveled underneath his shirt, and sighed, melting into it.
Not away from it. Joel continued his ministrations, sighing deeper into the kiss, opening up beneath you.
Getting underneath Miller’s layers was similar to bringing an untamed horse inside close borders—it came with drawing boundaries, and going through them slowly. Surely.
Joel opened up about his past before he could feel comfortable to get naked for you.
It was like he needed you to see him before seeing the rest. A map of scars and a long past.
It’s intense, and more than you expected, but not in a bad way. It’s real.
He’s so Joel that you know him better than you knew people who grew up around you. He understood the deepest and darkest parts of you, shrugging them off as if they were nothing.
Joel showered you in compliments whenever he could, much like you did with him. Yours always came out much shier than his, but he blushed at them all the same.
On a Sunday, you wake up to the smell of coffee and find him in the kitchen with your vinyl player turning the whole place into a dream. Maybe it’s the Spring air outside, and the pink light streaming through your glass, or maybe it’s him—
Joel’s leaning on the counter, shirtless. It’s definitely him.
Or maybe you’re still dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” you ask. 
He spins around with the mug in his lips, but you see the smile behind it. Your smile.
He gives you a curt nod, then uses his free hand to make a come hither gesture.
You walk towards him, drunk in sleep and the view you’re graced with, and then walk until your body is all pressed on his. Your arms wrap around his waist, and Joel sips his coffee before putting the mug down behind him. He then hugs properly, putting his face on his neck. “Mornin’ to you, too.”
You chuckle. “Sorry. Thought I was still dreaming there for a sec.”
“Is that so?” His breath tickles your neck, and you nuzzle your nose in his hair. He’s been using the coconut shampoo you gave him, finally. “Didn’t know you dreamt about me being indecent that often.”
Heat burned in your cheeks, and you were thankful for being hidden in the crook of his neck. “Shut up.” You feel him pulling back to look at you. “You know what I mean.”
“I might know what you mean, yeah.” Joel laughs a little. “I told ya I’d be dropping by the first day that it was hot early in the mornin’ to get a look at your window. I washed the dishes and saw the sink was drippin’, too, so I fixed that. Might’ve gotten sprayed in the process.”
“So handy, Miller.”
He leans until his lips were brushing on yours to answer, “You knew that already,” in a whisper.
It was way too early to be trembling like this, “Unlike some people, I haven’t had my coffee yet.” It comes out a little breathless.
Joel hums thoughtfully at you, and presses a kiss on your waiting lips either way.
How could you be so delusional to think you’d need coffee when he was here. Joel’s better than coffee. Sharper, too.
When he kisses you like this, it made you remember the hidden books in Elena’s secret library that you read when you were younger. The ones you wished you could take it home and read until all the light went out of the sky—lines and thousands of words of exactly this; his hands felt hot. They made your body respond like a magnet.
Joel left a trail of heat wherever his hands passed by, and it woke you up much faster than caffeine would dream of.
Your own moans your muffled to your ears by the sound of his soft sighing, and that was all you needed to press harder into him; slithering your body on his. Joel responded by untangling from you with his heavy breathing and his smile turned up a thousand watts. “I really like this ‘just woke up’ look on ya,” he says before dipping to kiss along your neck.
Your only answer is a whine, and trying to control the desire to start climbing him as you had times before.
His skin is so hot under your palms that they’ve been running all over his back as kissed you lazy and awake, and you can feel the dampness in your underwear because of the way he squeezed your thighs and your ass.
When Joel nibbles on a sensitive part of your neck, you whine louder. Whine his name.
“‘kay, ok, I hear you.” Joel then scoops you up by your ass, pulling a surprised yelp from you. “C’mon,” he laughs.
He makes his way to your bedroom, and you think—definitely still dreaming. You’ll believe it’s real when you eat something.
Maybe him.
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🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌
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oneforthemunny · 11 months
Text
crossings |mafia!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: everything is new and exciting with you and eddie, but joyce can't help but worry about you.
contains: mentions of suggestions to drugs and violence. an au of eddie in the mafia so crime and dark-ish themes. nothing graphic in this, mainly just fluff and a little angst. I'll put a warning on here anyways of 18+ or read at your own discretion.
It started with a necklace. A simple diamond necklace on a dainty gold chain. Reserved and classy, but still far too expensive than you could afford on a receptionist’s budget. Joyce furrowed her brows when you first started wearing it, nestled between your collar bones delicately, glimmering in the sunlight when you moved. It was too pristine to be second hand, but still, she figured it might’ve been a gift, shaking it off.
Then came the bracelets. Three gold stacked bracelets that were very chic; very expensive. She only knew that because she saw them in the magazines, dangling off some tiny model’s wrist with the price inscribed in tiny writing off to the side. She’d snorted loudly, flipping the page with a huff. Who on earth would pay that price for a bracelet? One that could get you a decent car? Yet, you strolled in on Thursday with them adorned on your wrist- again, understated and simple, nonchalant. Like you weren’t carrying some people’s salary on your wrist.
Handbags, earrings, rings, shoes all followed. Every piece more expensive than the next. Joyce had started to wonder if you were embezzling from the bank, stealing out of the drawers. Until she saw him.
Eddie Munson strolled into the bank, which wasn’t unusual, but this time he wasn’t here for Charles. Oh no, he was here for you.
“Hi, Joyce.” Eddie greeted with a smile. He was always so polite, it made her stomach twist knowing that behind that alluring smile was a dangerous man. “How’re you today?”
“I can’t complain.” Joyce smiled back politely. “How are you?”
“Good.” Eddie said cooly, his eyes flicked behind her, lighting up. “Better now. I got a hot date for lunch.”
Joyce blushed at the information. “Oh? Who-“
She saw you giggle, purse- a new designer bag fresh off the runway- slung over your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around Eddie in greeting, squealing when he pressed kisses into your cheek. The way his dimples deepened, creasing deep into his cheeks, eyes lighting up when he saw you; it felt very sweet. Joyce almost forgot who he was for a moment. More importantly what he was capable of.
"I'll be back in an hour, Joyce. I put the sign up." You beamed at her, your happiness nearly infectious when you smiled over at her. Joyce hesitated for a moment, watching Eddie sweetly place his hand on your waist.
"Have a good lunch!" You called over your shoulder, pressed into Eddie's side, pushing the glass door open for you to step through.
Eddie turned, lifting a hand in a wave towards Joyce, a kind gesture that shocked her. She could barely raise her own hand back, watching them scamper out the door- two young kids in love. She remembered being like that before, the insatiable feeling to be with each other at all times. The whirlwind of love and adoration that followed, sweeping you up on a cloud of ecstasy, fogging your judgement.
Joyce could barely touch her sandwich, staring at the plastic bag in front of her. She ignored the other chatter around her, coworkers busily clambering about their days and droning subjects she couldn't bring herself to engage with.
She knew you had no way of knowing, you couldn't have. You weren't from Hawkins, you were Nancy's college roommate, brought here because of a job- this job. She wondered if you had told Nancy about Eddie. She had half a mind to ring Jonathan and ask, insist he tell his fiancé what her friend is up to; who her friend is hanging around.
Everyone knew the Munson's. Eddie's father, Wayne, Eddie, his mother. The distaste, snarl that usually followed with the name was all Eddie grew up with. His hoodlum of a father, who was a delinquent around Hawkins, got his mother killed. Wayne who was forced to take the boy in, and the boy. The boy they outcasted all his life, mocked and ridiculed, now, held all the cards. He had the power now. When people said "Munson" now, they didn't snarl or scoff. No, it followed with wide eyes, in a low tone, turning to make sure no one was listening. That was whenever anyone dared to say anything about Eddie at all, most content on pretending they were unaware of the dangers that happened in Hawkins.
Eddie was always a good kid, and even now, he took care of his city. He had established terror in the hearts of all his citizens, enough to keep them quiet and docile, let him keep doing what he needed to do; but he was always the first one to help when they were in trouble. No one came for his city, for his home, for his things.
Joyce knew Eddie was responsible for the boy's home being rebuilt. He'd had a 'meeting' with Charles and a few other big names around town after a few kids at the children's home had become sick from the lack of heating that winter. The children's home had requested renovations, but the city pushed it back- until it became a top priority practically overnight. Joyce knew it was more than a coincidence that it happened to become priority after Eddie's meeting.
Still, she worried that you didn't know the danger. Joyce was a wreck all day, contemplating if she should say something to you. She knew it was a risk, that if you reported back to Eddie it could lead to a world of hurt for her... for her family.
Joyce watched you all day. When you'd returned from your lunch with Eddie, he'd walked you back to your desk, all dimpled grins and tossing you a wink that left you flushing before he left. He promised to pick you up later, walking away with a small wave. "Have a good day, ladies." He'd purred lowly.
Hours later, Joyce still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you. She'd tried, she had, but every time she'd call your name, you giving her a wide eyed, sweet look, her words caught in her throat. Choking and constricting around the request, before she'd just shake it off, laughing and blaming the weather for her scattered thoughts.
Joyce's eyes flickered from the clock on the wall, back towards you. You'd begun packing up, neatly filing papers away, and smoothing your agenda for the next day out. She bit her lip, rolling it in contemplation, pencil bouncing on her desk.
Five o'clock- closing time. You were already standing, peering out the window to see Eddie's Bugatti below. Joyce followed your gaze, shoving her own things in her purse.
"Wait!" Joyce called, much more urgent than she meant it to be. She called your name just as frantic, stopping you in the doorway.
"Um, could I talk to you for a second?" Joyce stammered, hands trembling when she shoved her things into her bag.
Your brows furrowed gently. "Yeah, of course. Are you alright?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. "Did I miss something in the paper work? I thought I stamped all the envelopes, but if I missed one I'll-"
"No, sweetie, it's not that." Joyce gave you a small smile, but her heart hammered so fiercely in her chest she could hear it in her ears.
Joyce pushed the door open, gently leading you outside. She caught the eyes of her coworkers, wide eyes and heads shaking in warning. They knew. Everyone knew. But what they didn't know was why Joyce would approach you with the subject. Put herself at that own kind of risk.
Joyce felt her stomach squeeze, turning to meet your confused gaze. "Joyce, is everything alright? Is it about the wedding? I told you Nancy can be a little stubborn about details, but if you're worried about something, I'll talk to her."
Joyce shook her head, eyes trailing behind you. The large ferns outside blocked her view, but she could still see him. Black button down, rolled sleeves, leaned up against the car finishing his cigarette.
"Sweetie, I-I..." Joyce let out a straggled breath. "What are you doing?" She asked lowly, eyes meeting yours cautiously.
Your brows furrowed. "What?" You asked. "Joyce, are you feeling ok? Do I need to call Jonathan or Will-"
"No," Joyce sighed heavily, placing her hands on your shoulders. It felt so maternal, shocking you a little. "What are you doing with Eddie?" She asked finally.
There was a silence between you, filling the space in a buzzing, defining tone. You blinked at her carefully. "Eddie?" You asked.
Joyce nodded fiercely. "Eddie... Sweetie, I know you're not from here, but-but Eddie... Eddie is not- he's-" She stuttered, shaking her head at herself, frustrated at her fumbling words. "There's things in Hawkins that are dangerous, ok? We all know it, but we don't know it, understand?"
Your face fell slightly, lips pursing slightly. You looked over your shoulder towards Eddie through the glass doors. Joyce's breath hitched. "And-And Eddie he's into those things." She said slowly, eyes watching you carefully. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
You gave her a soft smile, hands arching up to lay over hers, squeezing them gently. "Joyce, I understand." You nodded. "But Eddie is a very sweet guy."
Joyce blinked at you, in disbelief. She said your name in exasperation, but you held your hand up. "Joyce, I appreciate your wanting to worry for me, to look out for me, but," You sighed gently, looking over at Eddie. "I'm a big girl. I've got it handled."
"He could hurt you." Joyce muttered low, fingers squeezing you lightly in panic.
"He won't." You said firmly, head nodding back at her.
"Honey, I don't think you know what you're-"
"I don't think you know." You snapped, a little more defensive than you meant it to. The fear on her face at your tone, flinching back at the words made your heart drop. You sighed heavily, rubbing your temple.
You took a step forward towards her, cautious and holding your hand up in truce. "I know that you know some of Eddie's life, but you don't know Eddie." You gave her a sincere look. "Not like I know Eddie, and I can promise you, if I felt like I was in the slightest bit of danger, I wouldn't be with him. You don't know him like I know him."
Joyce didn't reply, mouth uncomfortably dry, heart beating far too fast in her chest. She felt like her knees might get out.
You gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, offering her a small smile. "Thanks for looking out for me, Joyce, but I promise I'm ok." You turned, seeing Eddie checking his watch, eyes now watching the two of you inside.
You turned, waving at Joyce over your shoulder, pushing the door open. "Have a good one, Joyce! See you tomorrow!" You called cheerfully.
Joyce watched in slight horror, confused and awed when you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck, his own gripping your waist, pulling you into a sweet, passionate kiss. He kissed you like he hadn't seen you in years.
He held the door open for you, letting you slide in before jogging around to the other side. He could see Joyce still staring, watching in amazement from behind the glass. His chest tightened, the carnal, protective need washing through his veins.
"What took you so long, baby?" Eddie asked, peeling off from the curb. "What were you talking to Joyce about?"
"The wedding. Nancy will not finalize details on anything, and Joyce is worried sick." You rolled your eyes playfully. "She wants me to talk to Nance, and I told her I'd try, but you know how Nancy can be? She's so stubborn and the more you push her, the more she'll dig her heels in."
Eddie relaxed, eyes flickering over to you gently. "She wasn't bothering you?" He asked carefully.
You furrowed your brows at him. "No." You giggled. "Just wanting me to play miracle worker for the wedding."
"Good." Eddie muttered, reaching his hand over the console to hold yours. "You remember what I said? You let me know if anyone starts bothering you." He brought your hand to his mouth, pillowy soft lips brushing your knuckles. It was so romantic, it had you giggling, positively giddy and drunk in love.
You leaned over, nose nuzzling into his clean shaved cheek, still smelling the nicotine on his lips when you kissed him sweetly. He slowed at the stop light, hands wrapping around your jaw to pull you closer, kissing you properly. When you pulled apart, your eyes were dazzling up at him, taking in his lopsided smile.
You knew there were two sides to Eddie. You knew there was. reason people feared him. You knew Joyce was right to warn you, to look out for you. You would do the same in her shoes. You wouldn't be able to understand either from an outsider's perspective.
They didn't know the Eddie you did. The Eddie that smothered you in so much affection, not just expensive material things, but sweet words that left your skin blushed with praise. He was passionate, about his business, yes, but about you too. An old school, intense type of love that you only saw on the screens. He was gentle with you, showing you a side of himself no one else saw.
You didn't want anyone else to. Selfishly, you liked that it was all yours. For you, and you only. Eddie was yours. Your scary man that everybody else feared, but not you. No for you, he was yours. Sweet and caring and protective; all yours.
You'd let them have their judgments. Their silent fears and worries about your sanity, about your safety. It was better that way, for both of you. You'd let them have their thoughts about Eddie, and you wouldn't try to change them, because that meant potential issues that neither of you wanted.
You'd let them think you were just with him for the lavish gifts. You'd let them think that you were insane. You'd let them think that Eddie was a threat to you. That he would hurt you or you'd get caught in the crossfire like his mother. You knew they couldn't help it, it was so easy to judge you and him silently, removed as far away from the relationship as they could. Yet the still casted their judgements in hushed tones and fleeting looks, too scared to speak on them, but too indulgent not to at least determine the outcome of your relationship. Mourn a fate that hadn't even happened. Predict a repeat of history without the facts.
"History repeating itself," They'd mutter to their friends in the quiet of their own privacy, head down but eyes cutting when the two of you would pass.
It was so easy to assume that, to brush it off that you'd both suffer the fate of his parents before him. Easy to judge when no one knew the facts or the truth. Opinions are easy to make with one sided, skewed facts. They were too scared to really try and know, to even try and see. But you supposed that was ok. They didn't need to know anyways.
Besides, none of them knew Eddie. Just like none of them knew you. Not the way you knew each other.
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ladybirdswritings · 5 months
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Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader
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TW - PTSD, mentions of abuse.
Summary - You realize that maybe working with a man as intimidating as Miguel O’Hara just isn’t for you… Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333
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six
You feel out of place. Stuffy, anxious, like a walking corpse with heavy eyes and an empty stomach. You’ve convinced yourself that once you waltz up those stairs, everyone is going to turn to you. Point and laugh as Mr. O’Hara rips you to tiny, pretty pieces with those awfully sharp teeth of his.
You took the stairs today because the glass elevator seems too dreadful. Each floor rising just getting you closer and closer to your demise, out in the open for the world to see.
You only have one flight left before you know it, though. The bittersweet stamina your body remembers from the times you used to twirl upon a silvered stage. You frown, maybe definitely purposely going slower up the final steps.
Your morning has been hectic. Your curls were in a battle with your hands and the straightener, reflecting the heat away like they were made of ice. Your hair is frizzy, and your ribbon has a tear in it. The sole of your boot is mere threads away from ripping apart and you’re terribly hungry. You had no time to eat, though.
The air constricts you as you reach the tip of the castle where the fanged creature with dark, unforgiving eyes dwells. Your body is overtaken with soft trembles yet you do your best to keep composed. Through the glass door and onto the shiny tiles.
The ambush doesn’t come… you ease.
Your eyes scan through the cold air that greets you. To your complete surprise, your Christmas tree still stands, covered in its pink bows and golden lights. You doubt you’ll ever be as confused as you are right now again at any other moment in your life.
Your eyes wander to the front desk where Cindy is seated, she smiles and nods and you swiftly make your way to her. Mary Jane wears glasses far too big for her petite face, clicking and clacking on her ivory keyboard.
“Hey!” She greets, handing you your bag of ribbons immediately.
It hasn’t been lit up to ash, it shocks you.
“Hey… is um…” thankfully she understands and you don’t have to say much more.
Christ, you’re treating him like he’s a monster tucked underneath your bed.
“Nope, he’s been out all morning… super weird between you and I, he’s never late!”
You believe her, but that doesn’t matter… all the tension in your body floats away like a cloud returning itself to the sky. The breath you’ve been holding since you conquered each step leaves you, and you finally feel as though you can breathe again.
“Uh oh, what’d you do?” Mary Jane inquires as she takes a sip of her peppermint tea.
You can only manage to shake your head, mumbling your gratitude softly and dragging the bag to the tree. The ladder still stands tall, taunting you with rusty screws.
“Hi pretty.” You whisper to the giant thing, hand burying itself in the tote to pluck out yet another pink ribbon. Knowing he’s gone, you work with ease. Gentle on the ladder, the ballerina in your heart still dances even though you cannot. Your balance is impeccable as you blanket the back of the tree now. It doesn’t take long.
Without him here, the office is alive. It’s happy. The women chat as they would while getting manicures at a salon. They giggle and swoon over Mr. O’Hara which is to be nothing more than expected. It makes you giggle. He must feel so high and mighty being surrounded by people bowing at the beck of his hand. Yet when his thumb doesn’t suffocate them, they blossom like roses.
They’re lovely, fun to listen to while you tinker with the tree. This is nice.
This is nice and the laughter and joy and “Santa, Baby” purring on the radio lasts all but an hour before dead silence and gasps soon flood your ears.
You chill, freezing up with your hand in the bag of bows. Your body is kneeling before the tree, the gold shining like starlight on your pretty features. Someone lowers the music quickly, and the man who simultaneously suffocates all the fun with just his presence alone walks through his elevator door.
You hear it ring, you hear the heavy clicks of his shoes and the adjust of his tie. Everyone is dead silent, now. Tense. Back to the normal that is known here.
You? You’re frozen, your head still bowed. You’re afraid of him, maybe. It is rare for you, you’re afraid of no one. Not anymore. Not after… well, it’s a promise you made to yourself.
Closer…
Closer..
Closer his boots near, until?
They stop.
They stop right beside you and god, it is right then in that moment that you’d rather run out and lay in the snow as you’re certain it would keep you warmer than you are in this moment, beneath him.
“You, come with me.” Is all he offers before marching forward on his path.
You gulp, maybe you misheard? A cautious glance at Cindy’s wide, sympathetic eyes and you know all you need to. This cruel, cruel man. He let you blanket his stupid, limp tree in ribbons, he let you get comfortable like a mouse under a warm lamp— not knowing there’s a serpent hiding away… ready to strike. Ready to tell you he’s letting you go.
Cindy raises her brows, as if rushing you to do something. To unfreeze. You dig your nails into your palm, hard enough to snap you back and you’re soon up on your feet. Each step you take, you look at nothing but your worn shoes.
The oak door is held open by him. They’re all staring, eyes like daggers stuck in your back.
“Time to actually do your work, ladies.” He commands, they comply immediately. Does he have a spy? Perhaps a meter that starts ringing when there’s too much fun…
The oak door slams, trapping you— the little mouse into his warm den. The sound startles you, making your eyes fall shut.
Keep it together…
He walks past you swiftly, scent of rich firewood and coffee intoxicating your body so much so that if you weren’t so horrified right now, your mouth would water.
“Sit.” He commands as he takes his place upon his leather throne.
You let out a shaky breath, making your way forward with all the force you have left within you. Maybe you should just blurt out an apology and book it straight for the highest hills you can find…
The zombie you are, dressed in clothes you used to wear for rehearsal as it’s all you have. Ivory tights and pom pom boots, a pink skirt and wrapped shirt. You rehearse the moves of walking and sitting like a dance you’ve danced before. The leather is cold when it engulfs you, unpleasant.
You clasp your hands in your lap, picking at the remnants of the French manicure Rio gave you last week. Waiting for it, expecting, remembering. Your head is hung in shame, in submission.
“You look nervous.” He observes.
You stay silent, reluctant to admit how true that really is.
You feel him, you feel him like fire on your skin. His eyes demanding your attention, but you can’t. You won’t. It isn’t good enough for him. He leans forward,
“You’re new here, but if you cared to ask my girls what my first rule is? You’d know that you look at me when I talk to you, do you understand?” He commands, and like a ballerina does, you mend and comply. Heated as your face as becomes, rapid as your heart flutters, and nervous as your being is… your eyes follow the order and shoot up to face his own.
They are dark, scorching into you like hellfire, an incomparable inferno. You want to shrink, but you won’t. You can’t give him the satisfaction.
“Rule two. Answer me.” He commands.
“Yes…” you whisper.
He’s satisfied, at least you hope. It certainly seems that way. He leans back in his leather chair and keeps his eyes locked on you. It is then you’re certain he’s a sadist. It’s obvious, obvious by the way you press your knees together and pick at your polish that you’re uncomfortable. He doesn’t care.
The silence is dreadful, heavy and suffocating. You try your best to hold it, stare into his eyes and ignore the fire burning your skin from the bone but god— it’s too much.
“I didn’t know!” You blurt out, half hoping he is deaf yet also half hoping he understands what you mean.
His eyes narrow and you’re certain you’ve made a fool of yourself again. You let your gaze fall and the subtle sound you hear under his breath makes you snap them right back up.
“I know. Keep it that way.” He forces through clenched, sharp teeth.
If he wasn’t so horrifying, so cruel, you’d feel sorry for him. His words, the subject, it’s painful for him to utter— to think of. You can tell.
The silence blankets the room again, and your eyes beg him to let you glance anywhere but at him. You’re desperate though, the bigger part of you. Desperate to suffer here, instead of home. Maybe he knows just how desperate you are, maybe he’s using it. Maybe he’s delaying the inevitable, maybe there’s nothing you can do to avoid it.
It seems like forever, but he eventually speaks.
“I want you to do something for me.”
Pack your shit and leave…
You finish his words within the confines of your mind, prepared for them. They never come, no… what follows only shocks you.
“I want a tree. A small one for my office. Red and blue ribbons, and soccer ornaments.”
What?
This man, this enigma of a man seems to be the most capable creature alive and able to make your head spin like a record. You shake your head, confused…
“What?” It’s a soft whisper, weak.
“Rule three, I don’t repeat myself. You heard me.”
You did. You did and you still don’t slightly believe it. You’re dreaming, that must be it. You fell on the stairs on the way up and you’ve been tucked away in a coma.
No. It can’t be true. Sure, if anyone on this earth would be intimidating enough to make you truly feel their gaze in a coma, it would be him… but it’s far too real, too intense to simply exist within your imagination.
“I— can do that, sir.”
He only nods, once. Voice louder now, commanding the room, commanding you.
“I want it done by tonight, on my desk before you leave.”
You nod, mind still jogging to keep up with this conversation, to understand it. Your brows are furrowed, eyes searching for an invisible answer around the room. They land back on him and it’s as if he was waiting for them to do just that. A raise of his brow and he gives you an expression you can’t quite understand.
“You’re dismissed.”
Oh.
He talks to you like you’re just a dull-brained creature, incapable of understanding a word he says, an idiot. You stand on your feet and then swiftly turn your back on him, which is somehow more frightening than looking him in the eyes.
That must be it, you suppose. You’re grateful. Baffled but, grateful. You won’t test your luck, you won’t question it. Perhaps Cindy was onto something with her analysis of him. He’s just not— soft.
No, he’s in control and commanding and intimidating and far far easier to deal with than the cavalry at home. Okay… okay, you can manage this.
Even so? You can’t walk quicker to the door, it seems— hurrying out like the inferno from his eyes is just behind you. It is. The oak creaks softly behind you, and you huff as you make it out to the other side, surviving to tell the story of how you evaded the beast. Mary Jane and Cindy’s eyes are wide and waiting.
You only offer a thumbs up and nod, then get straight to work.
You’re happy for the excuse to waltz the city during this lovely time of year. Especially when you’re not paying for the things you buy. The streets are lined with snowfall surrounding cobble pavement, brick roads and sparkling trees that reach the sky. There are smiling St. Nick’s on every street corner and employees dressed as elves in every small shop. It smells of coffee and chocolate chips.
You’re not at all dressed for December. Your check hasn’t come in just yet, you’ll buy warm clothes when it does. Jack Frost is a bite on your shoulder, cheeks and nose pink and chilled from the snow. You’re trembling.
That doesn’t matter though because you’re also dancing, right now. Dancing like you did as a ballerina; that equates to simply following orders. It isn’t until the warmth of the small gift shop nearby embraces you that you ease. Warmth crawls up your spine and burns Jack off of it. You can think, now. You can stop following orders, stop dancing.
Your trembling fingertips are numb, grazing over the snow globes, ribbons and ornaments. Hmm…
Soccer…
Perhaps he’s a fan…
Blue and red ribbon…
Your teeth chatter as you grab a wicker basket and collect each color. You find lights to compliment them and a dark, lonely little tree by the windowsill. Fitting. Ornaments, then. Soccer balls and goals, flags and tennis shoes. It becomes more apparent as you fill your basket that this is not for him.
Cautiously, you grab your cracked phone and find your watch history. The thumbnail, the picture from last night. Where the grinning ghost sits on his shoulders, she’s adorned in a socccer jersey. No, the tree is not for him at all…
It’s for her.
Sadness swells at the base of your throat but you force it down with a gulp. Gentle thing you are, always so empathetic with the world around you. Even the cruelest parts.
Yet, his words from earlier only echo in your mind.
Keep it that way.
Maybe you’re stupid or maybe you’ve just never been good at following orders when there’s not a wire hanger involved… but you just can’t.
Your eyes glaze over the wooden ornaments stand and land upon a dark oak frame with a vacant place for a picture. You know just what you’ll do…
Time passes quickly and you are back at the office soon. The tree is small, but you handle it with care and adoration. You tie the ribbons by hand and place them snugly upon the blossomed branches. The lights are a mixture of red, gold and blue. The star is gold too and it compliments the rest nicely. The ornaments are small, hanging like icicles from the tips of each branch. Overall? It’s perfect. Missing one, final touch though.
Everyone has left, the office lights dim. It’s just you and the grinch who’s steadily growing a heart. Maybe not three sizes bigger just yet, but you’ll take even a quarter. It’s big enough for him to keep you at least… for now.
You hurry over to the front desk where you print the picture, ink staining the colors vivid and bright.
Her smile was so pretty…
You cut the excess paper and grab the photo frame ornament, adorning it with the heart warming picture of him and his little girl. After you clean your mess, you place the final touch upon his tiny tree and revel in your masterpiece. Perfection, all you ever strive for.
But now? Back into the devil’s den.
You would be lying if you said your heart isn’t pounding as you approach the oak door, but as soon as you make it there— you steady yourself.
You remember who you are, what you have survived.
One cold man who you won’t know in a few months can’t take that. Your fire.
The tree is stable in your hands, but it needs both of them to balance upright. With your foot, you knock.
No answer.
You knock again…
And, no answer.
With a huff, you risk the possibility of angering the beast more than he usually is and use your bum to push the large thing open. You’re very much annoyed to find him alert and well, glasses resting on his face as he types away at a document on his laptop. The square thing looks like a toy compared to his hands.
Christ.
He doesn’t regard you, he doesn’t need to. He already gave his orders. You’re careful to maintain balance as you gently bring the tree to his desk and place it to the corner of him. A switch of a button and it glows. You catch him then, glancing just once at it before continuing his work. The lights reflect in his glasses.
You tidy up a few spots and ribbons that shifted from transfer and then step back to admire. You’re satisfied. You don’t bother saying goodbye, he’s immersed enough as is and you’d rather refrain from unnecessary interaction with the heatmiser.
You smooth your skirt as you make your way out, ribbons bouncing on your locks. The door shuts behind you, you’re safe again.
The tiles squeak as your boots kiss them, gathering your bag and phone— you get ready to leave. Near the stairs and then— oh, right. You forgot to unplug the tree.
You know well how much of a disaster it would be if you set the floor on fire. With a huff, you make your way back and check the moisture with two fingers. All is well. You bend over and unplug the golden shimmer to make the top floor even darker, hearing the oak door shut swiftly as you do. It makes you jump.
Just when you almost missed him.
His steps are heavy… heavier than usual. Quicker too.
He must be tired, anxious for his bed. He’s filthy rich. He probably has the biggest bed with dozens of pillows and the softest of sheets. You wish your bed was like that…
You turn.
Maybe one day you’ll have a bed just as— oh!
Two hands case you up against the wall beside your ribbon tree, and all you see in front of you is that look.
That. Look.
It’s back.
Monstrous, horrifying, furious with you.
The darkness, the redness in his eyes is clearer now. The veins in his neck and the tension in his shoulders and jaw.
He raises his hand, you flinch by habit. Grasped tightly in it is the picture, except now— the glass has been shattered and it’s cutting into his palms. Your eyes widen, hands reaching out to help him. He pulls his palm back before you can, moving his head so that his eyes are staring directly into yours.
That look.
You chill.
“¿Qué carajo es esto!? Huh!? Tell me!” He growls, voice guttural, loud, horrifying— and it is then that you realize now more than ever that you truly are the mouse. And he? He’s the serpent.
With a grunt, he throws the glass ornament with his smiling, pretty girl across the room. It shatters even more once the wall finds it. He cases you in again, and you know now just how trapped you truly are. Just you and him on this lonely floor. He’s angry. You’re shaking.
You’ve seen this anger before. In her… in Katerina.
A gulp, maybe you’re a fish because your mouth bobs open far too many times to explain and yet you can’t. speak. The words catch themselves on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes can’t take it, they fall shut as you slow your breathing. There’s panic on the horizon. Memories so familiar to this flood back like an ocean of poison in your mind.
His index and thumb move to grip your chin, so angry and yet his grip is only firm, not painful. He tugs your face enough so that your eyes shoot open again.
“Did I tell you to do this?” His voice, perhaps it’s scarier now. It’s dark, low, composed like a cap on shaken pop.
“You knew better, girl! You knew better!” Her voice now… Katerina’s. Echoing in your head.
You’re suffocating, the air around you is too thin. You can’t breathe, you can’t look at those eyes.
No, no no. You’re panicking. His features blur as tears pool in your sight. He tugs your chin again, they fall onto his fingertips.
“You already forgot my rules, huh? You stupid, stupid girl…” he spits.
“You ungrateful, stupid girl.” She screams against your skull.
“I told you to keep it that way, didn’t I? Díos mio! What’s the matter with you?” He’s exasperated. He’s asking, eyes commanding an answer from you. You don’t know.
What is the matter with you?
Like the mythology of Rogue, it’s like everything you touch withers by your hand.
After everything Katerina gave you… after he took a chance letting you work here.
Your throat constricts as you gaze into the serpent’s eyes. Your heart is a hummingbird’s then, fighting so hard to fill that clouded brain with oxygen. You’re dizzy. You’re remembering.
You can’t. You need to move you need—
You can’t stop yourself, hand shooting up to dig your nails into the skin of his wrist. His eyes shoot toward the spot and he hisses, pulling it back. You take the chance to escape.
Under his arm and you stumble forward, hugging your midsection with a gasp, desperate for a lick of oxygen to bless your burning lungs.
A sob takes over you, but a close of your eyes and a quick inhale of the firewood and coffee that intoxicates you and you remember just where you are. You’re in his office. You’re not with her. You’re here. You’re here and you don’t want to be, anymore.
No, no not with him. Not after this. All of it, all of him. It’s too much, it’s too far. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve home either but at least there you can save up and flee…
You’re so panicked, all your mind can do is run over the many ways you’re going to call home through the flashing images of her. Images of Katerina bloom like ivy in your mind as you plan out your next steps. You feel glued in place yet so desperate to leave.
You glance at the broken glass and jagged smile of the ghost girl, jumping when the warmth of his palm greets your shoulder.
“Mirame, look at me.” He commands, but softly. Rather, softer than usual.
You feel pathetic yet still, your hand shoots up to push his own away from behind you.
You’ve had enough.
You buried the devil in your past. Your life is far too valuable to dance with another one.
You’d rather be cased up at home forever, working a job around family that think of you as nothing more than scum than be around him for a day longer.
You know, now…
“I quit.” You force out through another sob, not daring to turn and face him. You’re hunched over, shaky and weak. On the verge of suffocating completely. You wipe at your eyes and don’t hear another sound from him before you snatch your bag and phone and practically run to the stairwell.
Two steps at a time, maybe three before December’s chill kisses you in icy greeting. You don’t need to whistle for a cab to brake. In you go, familiar as you’ve done this twice now because of him.
Only this time? You’ll never come back again…
🏷️ ‘s @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield | chap 6 song 🎧:
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