#and who keep me warm when the fire and sweaters can't
Text
Coolth.
Earth a lifeless cement -
Dirt frozen over,
Trees bare and dead.
Wind a motionless freeze -
Air is as if claws
Cling onto our skin.
Sun a heartless deceit -
A disk blank and white,
An absence of heat.
Fire - its faint orange
tongues barely touching
our skin.
Layers of sweaters -
heavy but transparent
to coolth.
Submerged, by woods,
by deathly coolth of morning,
by thirst for warmth.
Together a freezing love -
Forget the fire and layers,
We hug.
Warmth.
(to MK, AK, DB, and Art)
#finished this poem yesterday saturday december 17#i started this poem on saturday *september* 17 and lowkey procrastinated#i was camping with my bestest friends (Art being one of them!!)#that morning we were sitting around a campfire wearing every jacket and sweater we could find#we drank tea and talked about life (and calculus lol)#at one point while the others continued talking i thought this would make for an interesting poem#i looked around seeking for imagery to include (and found enough for a whole another poem and a half)#might write those too eventually#we did hug a lot to keep each other warm#honestly was one of the best mornings of my life#long story shot#dedicating this poem to my friends#whom i love very much#and who keep me warm when the fire and sweaters can't#poetry#alasblog#alasblogpoetry#creative writing#emeraldandart#by emerald
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it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader
part 1, part 2
summary: everything finally comes to a head
warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut
tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)
word count: 5.8k
a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.
______________________________________________________________
There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.
Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold.
You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.
While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.
You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is.
You’re meeting them there.
The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.
Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline.
It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house.
Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out.
“She's here!”
You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people.
You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.”
And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.
“Hi,” he says, voice soft.
“Hi,” you repeat.
It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you.
It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself.
You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come.
Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse.
Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that. Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.
You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him.
You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together.
Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie.
“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off.
“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest.
“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.”
“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.”
Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”
“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.”
“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.”
You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him.
“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her.
“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.”
“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing.
The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other.
His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.
“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment.
“Oh shut up.”
**
The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.
Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.
“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”
He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”
He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.
“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours.
“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
Time feels like it’s stopped.
A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.
He clears his throat and you swallow hard.
“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
***
Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.
Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.
“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.
“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.
“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”
You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.
She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”
“The kids really need it.”
“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”
“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down.
“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.
“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.
“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”
You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.
The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here.
A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.
“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.
“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.
“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.”
Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”
“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles.
Soon enough you’re at the door.
“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.
"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."
"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."
He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside.
A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.
From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.
“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.
“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.
You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible.
Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.
Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.
Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought.
“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.
“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."
You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.
“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.
Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”
He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when—“
“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close.
“What’s up kiddo?”
“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.”
That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.
It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes.
You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing.
You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing.
“You should do it,” you say.
Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“
“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.
“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters.
“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind.
***
Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar.
“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down.
One, two, three, four…
Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.
Baby I’m-a want you
Baby I’m-a need you
You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about
His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.
He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.
Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without
your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction
Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours
Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’
Beside me…
Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.
It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…
Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring.
The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more.
Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’
Beside me…
Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by.
Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry
He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.
You taught me why…
Baby I’m-a want you.
Baby I’m-a need you.
Oh, it took so long to find you baby
Baby I’m-a want you.
Baby I’m-a need you.
Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.
You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.
“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.
God, no! Why!
You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you.
“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”
“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”
“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t.
Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”
Nothing. It was just a pretty song.
Was it for me?
Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.
Do those lyrics mean something to you?
Nothing.
Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies.
“You happened,” you spit.
He takes a surprised step back. “What?”
“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”
This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“
“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”
“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?”
“Yes!”
“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”
You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent.
Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.”
His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.
“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”
You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe.
“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."
“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”
His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”
You swallow harshly. “I want more.”
“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”
“Please, kiss me, Joel.”
“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.
His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you.
God, you missed it so much. Missed him.
Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia.
“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say.
He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”
“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again.
“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.
“You… really love me?”
“Did you not hear my speech earlier?”
“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”
He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says.
A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”
A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.”
When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.
All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down.
“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh.
“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“
“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt.
He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.
He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.”
“It was a stupid costume anyway.”
“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”
“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.”
“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck.
You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”
“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”
“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”
The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his.
You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded.
You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally.
Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing.
Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you.
You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”
He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.”
You grin. “I love you too.”
He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.”
It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should.
When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh.
Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders.
“Sit down,” he says.
You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together.
“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.
His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever.
He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen.
Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.
He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.”
“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most.
And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends.
Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth.
He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.
When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge.
“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver.
“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip.
And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.
“God, Joel-“ you hiss.
He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine.
You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it.
God, you love him so much.
You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet.
“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring.
Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours.
“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.”
Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.
Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.
“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you.
Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”
His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”
“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.”
“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.”
“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.”
You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.”
“Yeah, but you love me.”
You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest.
It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did.
“Yeah, I really do.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel tlou#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#game joel miller#hbo joel miller#this is trouble
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Part 6: The Geek
Starring: Mark Lee
Summary: A certain boy can't seem to keep quiet after being warned countless times. Y/n was able to hold him off but the more he continued to talk she realized she needed to bring out her big guns and make an important call. She also starts to realize some mixed feelings are beginning to get in the way of her plans. In an attempt to stop this feeling, she slowly starts to lose her friend. Replacing him with a slightly older boy with glasses.
Warnings: Smut, Oral (F.m receiving) Fingering, Sugesstive, Tension Build and Manipulation.
Words: 8.7k
MINORS DO NOT READ!!!
Enjoy :)
"Who's been talking?" you asked Jisung. You both sat in your living room on the carpet. Two hot cups of tea placed in front of both pog you. Jisung sipped his tea nervously before he spoke gulping the hot liquid before he spoke. You waited your finger tapping on the glass coffee table. Your dog emerged from the front door onto the couch just beside Jisung who sat in front of the white couch.
He sighed placing the cups down.
"Haechan-"
"That little cunt. I knew he would open his mouth. Probably pissed at me still," you began but Jisung waved his hands motioning for you to slow down.
"It's not just him," he said. "He only started talking when Johnny pressed him for information," he said.
"Why would Johnny press him? I haven't even got to him yet," you asked trying to remember a point where he could have seen or heard you. You thought you were being careful.
"Doyoung told him you were looking for me yesterday when you thought I was the one talking," he said. Saying the last part quietly. You hummed crossing your arms over your chest. You felt the warm fire from the fireplace on your back as you tapped your finger on your arm. You shook your head tongue poking your cheek.
“That little shit,” you said in disbelief. Your eyes found Jisung’s. “He has to be next,” you said standing up. Jisung unsure of what you were doing grew nervous. He jumped up following you to your room. “He can’t be,” he began right on your heels as you walked into your closet.
“Remember the plan,” he said trying to collect your attention. You huffed going through your clothes. You had found an outfit yanking it off the rack. You placed it on the couch removing your shirt. Jisung’s eyes widened at the sight of your bare torso breast still covered by your black bra.
“Y/n please just stick to the plan,” he begged refocusing his attention to the bigger picture. You sighed sticking your arms through the hole of the blouse. You were ignoring Jisung’s request. Instead jumping ahead of your perfectly planned plan because of a slip-up. You buttoned up every button pulling a sweater vest over your head. Your pants were next to go.
Jisung cleared his throat catching your pajama pants. You stopped letting out a frustrated huff.
“What?” You asked annoyed.
“Y/n please relax,” he said placing your pants down on the couch. “Just stick to plan okay? You just have to get to Mark and then Doyoung is after. Can you just wait?” He asked trying to reason with you.
You shook your head pulling your skirt on. “You don’t get it. If I don’t do this now my head won't stop playing the same scenario in my head. Jeno going to my father telling him what I’ve done, him making me leave school and taking away any opportunity I had at showing him I can be powerful enough,” you confessed. Jisung raised a brow stepping towards you.
“Powerful enough?” He asked not sure by what you meant. You nodded letting the black belt in your hands fall on the pink couch.
“He doesn’t think I’m capable I’m owning the company. He thinks not only am I a girl,” you say with a small shrug. You plop down on your couch Jisung sitting beside you. “But I’m even less powerful than some summer intern, less powerful than a child,” you said with a frown. You rest your head on your hand. Your elbow resting on the top of the couch.
Jisung kept his eyes on you. Listening to your every word. He understood how you felt. Being surrounded by powerful people made you feel powerless. He knew the feeling all too well.
"If Doyoung and Haechan keep talking then all of this was for nothing," You said a lump forming in your throat. Jisung's heart swelled in the last couple of months he's seen you happy, angry, even scared but never sad. You quickly wiped away a tear that formed at the corner of your eye.
"I can't let them win Jisung," you said finally looking into his eyes. You sat closer to him. Jisung moved closer to you as well resting his arm behind you. You crawled into his side face meeting his chest. There you let your tears fall in his warmth. He just held you close in your bright pink closet.
"I just can't. After what they've done to me and my friends, other girls too," you said whimpering into his chest. His arm fell rubbing your side. He didn't speak, he made no sounds, he just held you closely as you cried into his chest.
After some time you let go of Jisung pulling your legs up to the side of the couch. You cracked a smile red puffy eyes looking into Jisung's calm brown eyes. You chuckled causing him to chuckle as well. You wiped a few of your tears with the back of your hand.
"I'm such a mess," you claim with a sad smile. Your head fell eyes meeting your hands. Jisung hesitantly brought up his thumb wiping a tear that slipped past your cheek. The pads of his fingers gently hold onto your chin lifting your head. He smiled softly wiping another tear that fell.
"Y/n you may be somewhat of a mess," he said with a light chuckle. You copied his motions a small smile forming on your pink lips.
"But you are a beautiful, real, intelligent, and extraordinary mess. And I wouldn't change that or ask for a better friend," He said honestly hand holding the back of your neck. Your cheek rubbed against his palm. You felt exposed and for the first time in your life, the exposure felt new, fresh even.
It felt like he was staring right into your soul. After only a few months Jisung saw the good in you, everything you refused to see in yourself. Every ugly thing Jeno pointed out in you that sat at the pits of your stomach right now didn't matter. The pit of darkness replaced by a million butterflies by Jisung is what matters to you right now.
So you leaned in close to him. Guiding your body further to his frame. He leaned back as your lips inched closer to his. Your eyes fluttered shut lips grazing his. Jisung felt his heart skipped a beat. His breath hitched in his throat. His fingers grazed his thighs covered in denim. Your faint breath touched his lips. He wanted to kiss you, badly, it was the very thing he pictured in his mind every morning and every night but he couldn't. He couldn't kiss you, not now, not when you are hurting and need someone to comfort you.
He placed his hands on your shoulder gently pushing you away. You sat back down on the couch eyes open. You shook your head standing up from the couch. "I'm sorry," you apologized repeatedly as you walked off in your bedroom. Just behind you, the curtain was pulled open by your maid the rising sun blaring into your bedroom and shining on your skin. You turned to the window half-dressed staring towards the sun exposing your flaws for the world to see.
Jisung appeared from your closet finding you in front of the window. The maid sent a slight bow as she left. You turned to Jisung as he slowly walked over to you, reaching out his hand to touch you. You let out a breath.
"I'm ready for Mark," you said causing Jisung to let his hand fall and let out a shaky breath. You adjusted yourself giving him one last glance before you walked away.
"I'll see you later," you said as you walked into your bathroom away from Jisung letting him let himself out.
That was the last time the two of you spoke.
A few days passed. You had taken some time to yourself as well as attending to Jeno, after all, Mark was easy to find. Every Wednesday from four p.m. to six p.m. he spent his time in the Video Game club. The university had many clubs, this was one of the more popular ones. Mark and Haechan were club members, and Jisung also had a spot in the club. Today you were going to join the video game club.
While the club was popular it was very hard to get into. The leader of the club is Mark and to get into the club they had to defeat him, Haechan, and Jisung in a round of whatever game of your choice. However, were not allowed to choose who you played against. Most failed very few could get past Jisung or Mark. Haechan was the best gamer in the club, you'd have to beat him to get in.
You were already prepared for Haechan to pick you, after discovering you were not the one playing the games with him during your time together. You were looking forward to beating him, for real this time in a virtual reality.
Haechan was just an obstacle you needed to pass to get to Mark.
You bought on a fresh new outfit deciding a much more laid-back vibe would be more suitable. Wearing your low-rise blue jeans with a cropped sweater you wore your hair down finishing the outfit with a pair of sneakers. You walked down the hallway next to Wendy who followed you to the club, as your support.
You let out a breath once you reached the room turning the door handle. Everyone in the dark room turned to look at you. Gasp left their lips seeing you enter the room, computers, and large monitors illuminated their surprised faces upon seeing you enter. Haechan pushed past a few people who stood around his desk to get to you.
"What are you doing here?" he asked shocked with a mixture of anger in his tone. You scoffed, "I'm here to join the video game club," you said with a smile on your lips. Haechan sneered a scoff leaving his lips. He jerked his chin forward judging you. He looked at you up and down a cocky look on his face.
“Really? Are sure you're not just plotting. Who's next? Huh. Mark? Jisung?" he asked getting Mark's attention. Mark walked over placing a hand on Haechan's shoulder. He looked over at you apologetically.
"I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse this guy. He's rude to everyone," he defended. You went to speak but Haechan cut you off.
"I'm not being rude I'm being honest. She's just here to hook up with you so she could cross you off her list and if it's not you first it's Jisung," he said pointing behind you. Jisung walked in standing by your side confused as to what was happening. He knew you were coming today, he also assumed Haechan would give you a hard time. He just didn't think he'd call you out.
Mark touched Haechan's shoulder, gripping it this time. Haechan winced in pain smacking Mark's hand away, rubbing on his skin. He whined releasing a huff. He shrugged pointing at you again.
"What did I say? She's just some fucking Easy A," he said hand waving up and down pointing out your entire body to everyone who was listening. You huffed your face starting to feel hot. Wendy sneered walking up to Haechan and shoving him.
"Haechan," Mark called when he saw Haechan walk over to her. You stood in front of him arms crossed over your chest. Mark walked over leaning Haechan. "Dude, I think you should go," he said. Haechan brushed him off to walk away but you held your ground.
"No," you said causing everyone to look at you. Haechan stopped letting out an annoyed huff. "I want to play Overwatch," you said a smirk forming on your lips. Everyone gasped shaking their heads at your choice. Haechan is known for being the best in that game. He had even defeated one of the best players, Jungkook, a few years back.
Jisung noticed the small gleam in your eyes hiding his smile. Haechan turned back around walking towards the front of the classroom.
"Fine but you play against me," he said walking to his set up. You set your bag down on an empty desk, Wendy's placing her stuff beside yours as you followed Mark. Everyone gathered around as they set up, including Jisung. Haechan wore a cocky grin on his lips the whole time.
The pure joy he'd receive from crushing you was all he needed for him to forget you. Knowing he beat you in something, knowing he made you feel like shit and couldn't get into the club. Knowing you couldn't trick his friend.
He felt proud knowing he'd destroy you.
Two bad like always you two steps ahead. Because for months Jisung had trained you. Playing games with you almost every night, and into the morning to prepare you for Haechan. While that first time you played Jisung played for you, you figured you’d learn how to play Overwatch and other games they all liked just in case of the event. Turns out you had a secret talent.
Once the game starts Haechan barely even tries while you click buttons, brows furrowed concreting on the screen. Wendy who had no clue what was happening in the game cheered you on while everyone waited for Haechan to destroy you. They weren't hoping for your downfall just against him no one stood a chance.
However, you watched from the corner of your eye as his character started to die and the anger mixed with fear and confusion formed on his face. Now it was your turn to be cocky, even if you weren't the one playing, you were happy he was losing. Haechan and his ego annoyed you more than seeing Si Cheng every Thursday in your English class.
Mark watched from the sidelines a smile on his lips. An impressed smirk on his lips as he watched you play.
The people in the room began cheering for you and it was the first time in months you heard anyone on your side. You assumed it was because you were beating Haechan. His character was dying and you felt a smirk tug against the corner of your lips. You glanced over now seeing his fingers tap harder on the keyboards trying his best to desperately stay alive.
The people surrounding you are both now excited. They watched closer shocked mixed with curious faces. Gasping when your character was easily taking his own. Some people trying to figure out when you became so good at playing games. Others felt that because you had such a hidden talent there was more to you than you let on. And a few others just cheered you on also losing to Haechan in the past and wanting to see him get destroyed.
Your tongue poked the inside of you both as you typed furiously on the character. You clicked on only a few final buttons watching as his character slowly started to die. Your tongue poked the inside of your mouth. Your feet gripped onto the button of your shoe, your body leaning forward. You were so close you could taste it. With a few more taps and clicks you watched his character die losing the game.
His eyes widened shaking his head. His mouth fell open and his brows furrowed. He held onto the monitor shaking it lightly even tapping the screen just to make sure it wasn’t true. No way he lost. And not only did he lose but he lost to you, of all people, why did he have to lose to you?
His head fell as he accepted defeat and therefore had no choice but to grant you access to the club. He sucked his teeth as he handed you, your very own controller lazily placing it in your hand almost falling to the ground. You caught it glaring at him. He stared back at you as you walked over to him. You leaned down close to his level eyes never leaving his.
"That's what happens to rats," you whispered for his ears only. His breath hitched and his eyes widened. You could hear his heart skip a beat from how close you were to him. You smirked pulling away.
"Trust me the worst has yet to come. I'm giving you one last shot. Keep your mouth shut," you warned. He eyed you breathing heavily as he grabbed his things making a straight dash to the front door.
You smiled a wicked smile as he left soon letting it fall replacing it with a much softer smile and letting the cheers from the people around you stain his chest and flood your ears.
Afterward, people returned to their games. Jisung sitting next to a few people including a girl. The girl was a little shorter with long wavy brown hair. She had brown doe eyes and flushed pink lips. She sat beside him as they played together her side bumping into his every time he beat her. He blushed when her hand touched his. She pulled his controller from him giggles echoing from her throat.
You swallowed a lump that sat in your throat. Your arms crossed over your chest as you tried to look anywhere else in the room. But it felt like every computer screen kept shining in their direction. You sucked on the inside of your cheeks trying to pry your eyes away in any way you could. You felt a pinch in your stomach when his eyes never left her frame.
You were going to look away having enough of the current display of affection that took place a couple feet away from you. Jisung hadn't even noticed you staring, he didn't even feel your eyes on him. You frowned poking the inside of your mouth with your tongue.
Why did you even care? As far as you know and remember you were using him to get close to his friends. The same boys he was still friends with, he still even joined their clubs. So why does this even bother you when it shouldn't? He was making you feel the same way you felt last night. It made you feel sick to feel this way. You wanted nothing more than to leave.
Just as you were about to walk away Mark came into your view. He stood slightly taller than you a pair of frames sitting on his face. He sent you a warm smile. When your eyes meet him, his smile falls. He rubbed the back of his neck swallowing hard. His arms fell nervously but not like how Jisung acted around you. Mark could look you in the eyes and stand close enough to you without breaking out in a sweat.
"I just wanted to start by saying I'm sorry," he said with an apologetic frown. He fiddled with his fingers but kept his eye on your eyes. "Haechan can be a bit of a dick," he began with a soft chuckle.
"And it's not an excuse," he said with a shrug. "But ever since he got dumped by some girls he's been worse," he said hoping you'd understand. You let out a breath a smirk on your lips. "It's not an excuse," you responded. "Also you don't have to apologize on his behalf. He's in the wrong, right? He should be the one to say sorry," you said. Mark nodded a small laugh leaving his lips. He shook his head understanding. He let out a disappointed sigh to himself. He knew you were right.
"I have a habit of apologizing," he said with a nervous rub of his neck.
You chuckled. "It's okay," you said. There was a small pause of silence until Mark spoke up. "Anyways I should probably go back to"
"Mark," you called as he slowly backed away. A small smile on your lips.
"Yes," he said back almost instantly.
"I heard that new Spider-Man game out, did you get it?" you asked him. He widened his eyes looking into yours. "Are you kidding dude? I finished it the day I got it," he said excitedly. He had no clue you were a fan of games until this afternoon and he had no clue you enjoyed Spider-Man like he did. You pursed your lips impressed.
"Well I'm still new to the game but I was hoping you could come over and help me out. I know tonight is Jeno's party and everything but he wouldn't mind if we sat this one out," You said stepping closer to him and grabbing your purse from the table.
Mark gulped thinking about it for a moment. You were Jeno's girl meaning you were completely off limits. But this was just a video game, a Spider-Man video game. What could be less innocent than that?
Mark smiled nodding. "Okay. I'll come over," he said. "What time?" he asked. "Eight," you responded. "Here," you said handing him your phone. He put in his number handing it back to you. "I'll text you the address," you said walking past him. He sent you a small wave turning around. His smile faded when he saw Jisung watching you leave.
Jisung hadn't even noticed Mark's stares. Instead, he stood up from the girl beside him and followed you out the door. Wendy is not too far behind.
You sat in your car your head against the wheel. You shut your eyes letting out small breaths in the silence of your car. You used the silence to think. Think about what you'd like to do next, after Mark. Mark would be last on the list, the last of the group that would be easy.
Doyoung was supposed to be just as easy but now that he wishes to protect his friends he's made everything even more complicated.
You let out a sigh hearing the passenger seat open and then close. You assumed it was Wendy and when you looked over it was. The car door behind hers opened and then closed you turned seeing Jisung sitting in the back. Wendy placed a friendly hand on your thigh rubbing it gently.
He remained quiet as did Wendy. You started the car leaving the school. You sighed flashing your eyes in the mirror to Jisung. He sat back staring outside the window. You looked away chewing on the inside of your mouth. Wendy eyed the both of you with a confused look on her face.
"Okay, what is going on?" she asked the both of you. You remained quiet glancing at Jisung who was already looking at you. You huffed shaking your head.
"Nothing," you responded stopping your car a block away from the frat. Jisung recognized the area. Normally when you dropped him off and he sat beside you listening to music or talking about life this would be the saddest part of the journey. The part where he had to leave. This time it didn't feel sad, it just felt like the end.
He hesitated to speak. That morning he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you so badly that it took every muscle and working brain cell in his body to stop himself from letting his lips touch yours. His body burned down to the pits of his stomach from how close you were to him. But it wasn't right. You were hurting and he didn't have to take advantage of your pain.
He wanted you to know that. He wanted you to understand that he didn't avoid you because he disliked you but because he liked you so much it hurt it to give you every part of him knowing he wouldn't get any part of you.
"It wasn't nothing," he said frustrated his tone catching your attention. Your eyes perked but you remained facing the front of your car. You pulled your sunglasses over your head lips pursed. Wendy faced him scanning her eyes to you for a brief moment. She sighed turning back to Jisung.
"Then what is it?" she asked slightly annoyed. Jisung looked over at you. You still weren't speaking. He shook his head realizing you weren't going to talk.
"Nevermind. She is right, nothing happened," he said opening your car door and slamming it shut. The minute he stepped out you waited. Waited until he turned the corner of his street then you drove off.
"That was not nothing," Wendy said now concerned.
You sighed. "I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't ready to talk about it," you said finger tapping on the steering wheel. Your tongue poking the inside of your mouth. You shook your head. "I have so much on my plate already with Jeno and the rest of the boys opening their mouths," you paused. "I can't deal with that right now," you said now approaching Wendy's place.
"You like him don't you?" she asked. You sighed shaking your head.
"I can't," you said. She turned away not bothering you with any more questions and instead let you take her home.
You set up your living room perfectly. The PlayStation was fresh out of the box and set up, with the help of Ten. You changed clothes by switching your skirt and blouse to a more relaxed fit. Wear a velour deep purple tracksuit and soft white socks on your feet.
You hummed at the warm feeling the suit provided you. You had even lightened up your makeup, after your shower, settling for a more natural look. Your shaved legs felt soft against the fabric. You almost wanted to cancel from how comfortable to felt, but you didn't.
You looked over at your clock. Seven fifty-one. You walked over to your coffee table picking up the game. You placed the disk inside the system just after turning it on. You let the game set up turning off a few lights and lighting a few peppermint candles before you heard a knock at your door. You smiled placing the last candle down and walking to your door.
You knew today you had to be careful. Mark may have turned a blind eye to what Haechan said earlier, doesn't mean you are in the clear yet. You still had Jeno right on your tail no matter how hard you tried to shake him off. He knew you held a higher power over his head which is why he never dared to overstep the line you had drawn between you two. But now he felt a part of him had nothing to lose and everything to gain from your downfall. All you had down was buy yourself time, hopefully, enough time to make sure you took Si Cheng down, Jeno would fall right down with him.
You smiled checking the peephole and seeing Mark. You picked up your infamous perfume from beside your bag spraying a few sprits on your neck and wrist. You rubbed the liquid into your skin then you unlocked the door. You opened the door wide, wide enough for him to step inside. He greeted you with a friendly smile. You closed the door behind him.
"Can I get you anything?" you asked as Mark removed his shoes. He placed his shoes by the front door. He shook his head waving his hand. "I'm okay," he said following you to your couch. You frowned a crease in your brow. "Are you sure?" you asked again. Mark sighed with a small shake of his head, a small smile forming on his pink lips.
"Water is fine," he said. You nodded walking off to grab him a water.
When you returned he was standing in front of your window the curtain pulled back. He turned to you as you handed him the glass an amazed look on his face. "I've bet you've heard this before but you have an amazing view of the city. I mean your entire apartment is nice, Jeno was kidding," he said honestly sipping his water as he looked back at the large window. You frowned placing your glass on the coffee table.
"Jeno?" you asked opening your curtain for him to look without pulling them. He nodded with a gulp. "He's always talking…Well bragging about you," he said with a shrug. "He tells us stories," he said.
"What kind of stories?" you asked raising your brow as you stepped closer to Mark.
He smirked glancing down at his water and then out the window. He shook his head. "About how much you love him. The things you've done with him, to him," he said the last words dying on his tongue. Your brain had clicked. You stood beside him your shoulder brushing his. He slightly turned his neck to scan your faces before he turned sipping his cool water.
"What does he tell you I do to him?" you asked moving your eyes to his face. He felt your gaze but didn't turn. He gulped placing his free hand in his pocket. His nails grazed against his cloth skin nervously. He had never gotten this far with a girl.
He had never been to another girl's house that wasn't a family member. The only other times he'd been to a girl's house was when they hosted a party and the room was full of people.
He had crushes on girls in middle school and high school. He found girls attractive he just spent his time locked away in his room or at his friend's houses dressing as their favorite characters. He went to conventions and dressed as Spider-Man at every Halloween party every year. He was also part of a frat where Johnny, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Jeno were apart, and girls tended to look past him.
But you were different. You were untouchable, everyone loved and hated you. Every man, even women wanted you, desired you. He sometimes remembers what Doyoung and he did to you last year. he hopes and prays you never find out. You'd kill him for sure. You assumed now he was safe. You didn't see him as the weird geeky boy he saw himself as. You were being kind and welcoming to him and he hopes it's because you genuinely like him.
"Mark?" you called for the fifth time. He shook his head eyes blinking quickly. He turned now seeing you seated on your white couch. Blanket over your lap and controller in your hand. He cleared his throat as he walked over to you. "You okay?" you asked as he sat down beside you. He rubbed his sweaty palms on the roughness of his denim jeans. He nodded taking the controller you offered him.
"My bad," he responded.
You nodded looking away and at the screen.
"This is how you swing," he said showing you the controls. You eyed him a small gleam in your eye. He gulped seeing your pretty lashes flick at him. You picked yourself up sitting closer to him. Your perfume hitting his nose. He felt his heart skip a beat and cock twitch. You turned to him breath fanning over his neck. He hummed smelling your sweet scent.
"Show me again. I like how your fingers look when you play," you hushed softly in his ear. He stuttered, scrambling his words as he pulled back. He sat back on the couch a nervous chuckle leaving his lips. His arm fell over your couch. You pouted through your smile. You sat closer to him his arm around you. He looked at you for a second watching you through the corner of his eye.
"Let's get back to the game," he said taking the controller. You smirked turning to watch him play.
After some time you decided you'd make your move again. You were running out of time and if you wanted to make it to Doyoung before New Year's you had to pick up the pace with Mark.
It was your turn to play this time. So when you fought the bad guys or when you fell off a building little noises escaped your lips. Groans ghosting past your tongue catching Mark's attention again. He gulped his hand gripping the arm of the couch. He felt his heart skip and his eye twitch every time you made a sound.
You scouted closer pretending to be so frustrated you dropped the controller. You bent down to get it your hand landing right on his clothed cock. His hips instantly flexed into your touch.
You sat back up removing your hand as if nothing happened. You dusted off the controller handing it to him. "Your turn," you said with a dark smile on your lips. He took the controller from your hands a jumpy look in his eye. You acted as if you hadn't noticed.
He was so lost in his own mind as he played. His dick was fully hard in his pants and now painfully uncomfortable as he played. He could barely focus on what he was doing. Spider-Man had completely fallen off multiple buildings and lost battles. You cringed at the sight on the screen. Every time he fell or lost he could see it on your face. He scolded himself in his head for being so easily distracted.
"I thought you were good at this game," You teased lightly pushing his side. He scoffed, "I am," he responded. He had actually started to get better once he realized how much you were paying attention. You frowned seeing him lose again.
"Mark you keep losing," you said with a small pout. "How am I supposed to win if you keep dying?" you asked. He sighed with an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm trying it just, I don't know. I think I'm just tired," He lied. You bit your lip thinking about his words.
"How about I help?" you offered.
"How?' he asked.
You reached forward playing the belt around his waist. His eyes widened watching your fingers tracing over the leather strap. He used his hands to push himself back choking on his breaths. He stopped you placing a hand on your shoulder.
"Y/n I…you have a boyfriend," he said concerned eyes looking into yours. You shook your head brushing him off. "He won't care," you responded. You went back your lips lining with his before he stopped you.
"Wait, wait," he said shutting his eyes for a moment the white controller falling onto his lap. The character on screen died but neither of you paid attention to the TV. He sighed brows furrowing. He swallowed hard.
You sighed turning away fiddling with the hem of your tee. He watched you with curious eyes. "I'm sorry," you began keeping your eyes away from his. He watched you closely wondering why you shut down so quickly after jumping onto him.
"It's just I'm not actually dating Jeno," you confessed. Mark's eyes widened in disbelief. "But the two of you confirmed it. Everyone saw you at the hockey game," he rambled.
"What they saw was a lie. Jeno knew people were talking poorly about me. He heard the rumors they made and since he's an old friend he decided to help me. But that's it, I swear," you said finally looking into his eyes. You turned away seeing his face hadn't changed. "I just didn't he continued making stories, rumors of our one white lie," you said with a disappointed sigh.
His heart swelled at the plead in your glossy eyes. He chewed his lip taking in your confession. The person he called his friend had lied to him.
"I'm sorry. I thought the two of you were together," he said with a small frown. He fixed his glasses clearing his throat a part of him feeling stupid for believing the lies.
"I understand if you want to go. Thank you for your help," you said your head falling apologetically. You motioned your hand to the door. But Mark sighed sitting closer to you and placing a warm hand on your arm. You smirked your eyes still aligned with your hand that rested on your thigh. He shook his head.
"I'm not upset. You lied because you had to. Jeno continued to lie when a lie was not needed," he said. You picked up your head replacing your evil smirk with a warm, friendly smile. "Thanks for understanding," you said.
"Let's get back to the game," you said taking the controller from his lap. He held your hand removing the controller from your hands. He placed it on the coffee table in front of you, next to your full glass of water and his empty glass. He turned to his side to face you a gentle smile on his lips. "What?" you asked sneakily hiding your face with your hands.
Mark chuckled shaking his head. "Nothing you just beautiful, dude," he said. You punched his shoulder he sneered. " I told you to stop calling me dude," you said hiding your smile. He chuckled head falling back then front. You moved closer to him hands reaching up to his glasses and taking them off. You placed them by the controller quickly returning.
You swung a leg over him straddling his waist. He gulped but gushed a smile on his face at the sight of you on top of him. You completely sat down on his lap. He groaned his eyes shutting for a brief moment. You smile leaning closer to him. Your perfume waved past his nostrils, invading his brain and blinding his mind. He hummed at your sweet smell. His larger hands run up and down the clothed skin of your plush thighs.
You hovered over his lips one of your hands wrapping around his neck and playing with his hair. The other holding the side of his face in your warm palm. His lips pursed a slight tint of red from how hard he bit onto his lips. He held his control, every part of his body lighting up with a thousand fireworks. You hushed over his lips. "Am I the one you wanted to kiss?" you asked seeing his glossy eyes flick. He without a thought nodded his head. "Yes," he responded quietly.
You smiled placing your lips on his. His mouth met yours the minute your plush lips touched his. He squeezed onto your waist pulling as close as he could to his body. Humming against your lips his tongue slid across your bottom lip begging for entrance. You fought him at first smirking into the kiss. He took his chance slipping his tongue past your wet lips. You rutted your hips forward feeling his clothed cock poking your velour pants.
You pulled away slowly his bottom lip caught between your teeth. You sucked on his red lip he watched you with dark eyes. You released with placing a peck on his lips. You grabbed the hem of your tee pulling it over your head. You tossed it aside on the white rug. Mark watched with wide eyes. He brushed it off quickly. He didn't want you to see how nervous he was. The truth was this was the farthest he had ever gotten.
He may have lied to his friends about his V-card a while ago.
He didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you. So he sucked up his nerves the best way he could and pulled his black sweater over his head. His arms were on display from the tight-fitted tee that happened to have a familiar spider logo on the front in black. You chuckled and slightly pushed you away for teasing him, a bashful smile on his lips.
"It's cute," you said. Your innocent compliment sent a sweet warmth throughout his body. He felt comfortable in your eyes. He leaned up placing his lips on your passionately. He smiled into the kiss breaking it apart to lift you up. You giggled as he placed you down on the flat of your back on your couch. He smiled leaning down kissing your neck and playing with the lace straps of your purple bra.
You undid his belt swiftly removing it and throwing it to the side. You undid the button of his jeans sliding them down his waist. Your hands felt their way down his toned chest, to the v-line that formed leading you to his dick. He broke the kiss lifting his shirt off his head. Soon he kisses his way down your neck. Leaving hot wet spots from your neck to your tummy, while his hands roamed freely around your body undoing the clasp of your bra.
He kissed his way down sucking on the skin just above your pelvis. He undid the strings of your pants pulling them down along with your lacey panties. He pressed his nose against your pussy. His jeans not even halfway down his thighs he was already close to cumming just off the scent of your pussy. He glides his nose through your hot folds sticking out his thick tongue to taste you. His nose rubbed circles around your clit while his tongue slipped past your entrance.
He brought his hands down to his jeans pulling them down further. Once he wiggled out of them he brought his hand to spread your folds. The other reaches up to lay flat on your stomach. You moaned loudly head falling back on your pillow. Your eyes widened from how well he performed. You assumed he would fall just under Yangyang but he was proving the opposite.
He ate you like a starved man. A drunk man craving more. Your perfume did you not justice to your true scent. His mind is high off the sweet taste of you. You tasted fresh and felt so warm around his fingers. He could lay here for hours and just devour you. Now he understood why Yuta enjoyed doing this so much and couldn't understand why Jaehyun didn't.
You groaned shuddering under his touch. You had never felt so much pleasure. Mark wasn't eating you just to prep you. He wasn't rushing or lazy with his strokes. He was eating you like it was his sole purpose in life. To be between your plush thighs sucking you dry.
"Fuck dude you taste so fucking good," he groaned against your pussy. He shook his head flicking his tongue on your clit causing your whole body to tighten and then fall apart. You came hard against his tongue and licked and sucked up every inch.
Egar sat back watching to see how your pussy looked in the dim light. Your folds glisten and are on display. You chuckled sitting up your thighs closing and breaking his trance. He shook his head jaw hung low. You wiped your hand under his chin. "Your drooling," you teased. He touched his chin embarrassed wiping away the spit.
You chuckled leaning over and pulling out a condom from your pants pocket. You sat back opening it as Mark pumped himself. Hard and red his dick stood. Precum leaking out the top of his tip. You pulled out the condom sliding it on his cock. His breath hitched from the contact. His stuttering caused him to almost fall. He held himself watching as you laid back.
He adjusted you aligning his dick at your entrance. He let out a breath bracing himself. You held his waist as he brought himself closer his cock slipping past your hole.
He slowly thrusted until his hips stilled his head falling back a loud earthy groan leaving his lips. You widened your eyes. A minute hadn't even passed. He breathed hard chest red, rising and falling. He let out a relaxed breath. He looked down at you seeing the look on your face. His quickly changed mortified. He slowly pulled out using his hand to help you sit up.
"You didn.t…" he began. You shook your head looking at the rest of the living room then him. He cleared his throat trying to control his breath.
"I'm sorry," he began again. You waved your hand. "It's okay. It was your first time right?" you asked. He nodded his hand scratching his arm
awkwardly. You stood up finding your clothes. He did the same with the two of you dressing. You could cut the tension in the room with a sword, which would only dent the metal.
You both looked at each other as he stood at your door.
You decided to let him leave just like this. This was torture enough. He shared the same secret with Doyoung and it would be of better use then. "Hey Mark," you said as he put his shoes on. He looked up at you tying the final lace to his sneaker. "Yea?" he asked quietly.
"Can you not?" you pointed to the two of you. He nodded quickly, quicker than he came. "Trust me I won't," he said stepping out of your open door. "I also don't want Jeno to know. That means don't tell anyone," you said with a slight warning in your voice. He nodded a thin line on his lips.
"Oh and Mark," you said a small smile on your lips.
"Find out how far you can go then come over. Okay?" you said placing a kiss on his cheek. His eyes lit up. He nodded with a small smile. His cheeks were a light pink. "Okay," he said walking away and waving you goodnight. You closed your door behind you. If Jisung starts to slip you'll just have to replace him with another, who better than Mark Lee?
When Mark arrived home the house was quiet. The only sound was Jisung leaving the kitchen. Mark walked up to him after removing his shoes. "Hey Jisung," he called. Jisung stopped turning his head and saw Mark. He held back his eye roll. Mark smiled at him taking off his jacket and placing it behind a chair.
"I have a question," he said. Jisung sighed walking away from his. Mark confused followed the
younger boy. "Dude you okay?" he asked catching up to him. Jisung nodded, "I'm fine. Just tired," he said closing his shared room. Mark stopped right in front of his door. He sighed turning to walk to his room. On his journey, he heard murmurs coming from Johnny's room.
He pressed his ear against the ajar door peeking inside.
"Are you sure?" he heard Johnny ask the person in his room.
"Yea. Everything Si Cheng was a lie. She's been playing us," he heard no other than Haechan say. He rolled his eyes having enough of the young boy and his delusions. Why did everyone want to paint you as some villain? When you weren't. If you were you would have made fun of him or made him feel bad for what happened. He cringed at the memory.
He was so embarrassed. He's surprised you were down to give him another chance. However far into the future that may be.
"And who else knows?" he heard Johnny ask.
"Right now just us, Jeno and Doyoung," he said.
"I get Jeno, but how does Doyoung know?" he asked.
"He's been following her," he said. Mark's brows furrowed. Was Doyoung some sort of stalker? He shook his head quickly running to his shared room with Doyoung. Doyoung was nowhere to be found, probably still at the library. He pulled out his phone pulling up your contact.
He waited for you to pick up biting onto his nails nervously. When he heard your voice he closed his door nervously pacing.
"Calling already?" you asked. "Y/n I can't call for long but I'm letting you know that tonight I overheard Haechan tell Johnny some crazy things. Things I don't believe, I mean I hope they are not true," he rambled just above a whisper.
"Wait Mark slow down," you said dropping your act. "What happened? What is it that you have to tell me?" you asked hearing Mark huffing and puffing through your phone.
"Doyoung has been following you. I don't know how long but he's been following you. I heard Haechan talking about it," he said quickly. You felt your heart sink. You cursed hearing Mark on the other line ask what you had said. You weren't sure if you could trust him yet but this was a good start.
“Thank you for telling me," is all you said before you hung up.
You ignored his incoming call and instead scrolled through your contacts.
"Okay, Haechan I tried to be nice. I warned you," you said to yourself as you pressed on the contact you were searching for.
Mark gave up trying to call after you declined his fourth call. He figured he'd call you in the morning He placed his phone and walked towards his door. Jisung who quietly stood outside noticed his feet coming to the door. He quickly rushed back to his room closing the door.
He quickly scrambled for his phone clicking on your contact.
Your phone rang you picked it up seeing Jisung's ID. You ignored the call placing the phone back to your ear with a smile on your face.
"Yes Daddy I can send you his home address," you said proudly. You walked away shutting the light off in your living room and walking down to your bedroom.
Worried Jisung through on his sweater getting ready to meet Wendy around the block of the frat. Instead, he was met with Johnny standing outside his door. Johnny looked at him up and down Haechan standing behind him. Johnny was calm as ever, hands placed in his pockets, and stepped towards Jisung. Jisung gulped frightened by his calm state.
"Jisung where are you rushing off to?" he asked. Jisung felt his neck hairs stand. "The party," he said. "I'm late," he lied. Both the men laughed. "Try a few hours," Haechan said.
Johnny brushed him off turning from Haechan to Jisung.
"If you say you're going to the party who am I to stop you?" he said in the form of a question. Jisung chuckled nervously along with Johnny. Johnny patted his shoulder. "Take care," he said letting his hand fall turning toward Jisung walk away. Haechan did the same.
"But before you go I have a question and I'm asking if you could please be honest," he said. Jisung nodded placing his shoes on. He stood by the front door ready to go. He should have known Johnny wouldn't just let him leave.
"Has Y/n approached you at all? I mean next to Taeyong you are the quietest members of our frat. Of course Taeyong not by choice but you never speak, always alone," he said stepping closer. "Naive. It makes you the perfect victim," he said towering over the boy. Haechan watched eagerly ready to prove his point. Jisung however stood his ground shaking his head.
"Y/n doesn't know I exist. I'd be surprised if she knew my name," he said. Johnny nodded deciding to leave it at that. "Okay if you say so," he said walking away. Haechan stood eyeing Jisung but Johnny turned to him. "Haechan why don't you go to the party with Jisung? It would be good for the two of us to spend time together," he said making Jisung sigh.
"Problem?" Johnny asked. Jisung shook his head. "No," he said.
"Good," Johnny said as he walked up the stairs to his room.
Haechan smirked walking over to Jisung. "Let's go," he said wrapping an arm around him.
Your phone buzzed with a text from Wendy.
My Lovely- I'm coming over. I was bringing Jisung but he got stuck at a party with Haechan.
Read
"Daddy, can you take care of it tonight?" you asked. You smiled brightly hearing the very satisfied yes.
"His name is Lee Haechan. I'll send you the info," you said a smile on your face as you texted Wendy back.
You hung up the phone with a satisfied grin. You felt ready to take over the world.
Luckily, soon you'd have Doyoung.
You felt your phone vibrate again. You picked it up seeing Jisung's name flash across the screen. You sighed ignoring the call. A small part of your heart breaking.
To Be Continued...
I hope you enjoyed Part 6 of my 10-part series.
I can't believe only 4 parts left.
Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore @toroufriteh
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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 9
Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader
Dr. Miller’s voice snapped my eyes open. The setting was perfect. It felt like a movie. What could possibly be better than this?
The fire, the dim light, the luxurious living room, the champagne. It all felt too perfect to take it someplace else.
Before I could even protest, Dr. Miller was taking my hand and towing me away from the enchanting scene he had set. Certainly there was more to this amazing residence and I did want to see it - really, I did. But right then I could only focus on one desire.
He glanced over his shoulder once with the tiniest smirk and we soon climbed up a stairwell that was enclosed on both sides by the same stone structure that the house was made of.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I stopped mentally counting after five steps when the staircase winded, rounding upward to the next level. Te swirling stairwell added to the dreamy atmosphere. I half expected to awake in my own bed the following morning not knowing if I had been in a dream or reality.
Okay, I was more curious now. What did the second floor entail? There was a charming and, contradicting, dark mystique to Dr. Miller's home. It was almost as enticing as his persona; a perfect fit.
A faint glow illuminated a room straight away as we reached the top of the stairs. On our whisk by, I got a quick flash of a modest-sized room and could tell it was his home office.
Trailing off to the left we passed by two closed doors until reaching the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway.
Dr. Miller reached for the dimmer on the wall a step inside the door and a dim glow gradually took on the oversized space.
“Wow.” I couldn't keep the word from my mouth as I crossed through the threshold. Now I knew why he wanted to relocate.
The bedroom was lavish with a fireplace of its own and a flatscreen that sat atop a stone mantle. A king-sized bed was positioned directly across it. Odds and ends filled the spaces, and ceiling-to-floor curtains hung over what I assumed were a pair of windows against a far wall.
Dr. Miller casually strolled in and loosened up the buttons on his collar. I continued to marvel in the enchanting nature of the room that was only comparable to those I had seen in fancy catalogs, or lavish movie settings.
But that wasn't what had me awestruck. It was my professor. It was my enticing, sexy, older professor who was staring right at me as he slowly began to undress himself in the near-darkness.
“Come here.” Dr. Miller’s strict demand forced a shallow gasp from my lips. Once my eyes were locked on his again I felt like a wolf honed in on its prey.. only that prey was a bigger, badder wolf. What a paradox.
The walk to him was only comparable to what I could describe as dice dancing on a tabletop at a casino. What would happen once they rolled to a stop? That was the type of thrill we all secretly chased. The anticipation of what was to come in the most intense situations; your heart pounding, hands unsteady, face hot and a tingle running throughout every facet of your body.
Our lips met and I tasted the champagne on his tongue. Naturally, Dr. Miller's hand rested gently on the front of my neck. It made me pursuit him harder, kissing him with a heat that forced him to take a breath.
His hands snaked up under my sweater and he ran his warm palms the length of my torso from the bottom up until the shirt was thrown up over my head.
I was expecting him to pull me into his arms, for our lips to connect in the same fiery way as before. When I reached for him, his hand gripped my wrist so tight that an ache immediately spread in both directions up and down my arm. Without warning he shoved me down onto the oversized bed and I let out a deep breath as I stared up at him in his fully aroused state.
The clank of his belt buckle as he began to undo it was enough to make my bottom lip separate from my bottom one. My tongue danced across my lips. I couldn't wait to devour him - or let him devour me. Either way, I didn't care.
With his pants off his hips just enough to get a glimpse at the tented bulge in the front of his boxer-briefs, Dr. Miller leaned down, placing his hands on either side of me as he spoke against my lips.
“I'm going to fuck you now.” His voice was stern. His dark eyes locked on mine. He wasn't asking for permission, though he knew by now that I wouldn't deny him; I couldn't.
My eyes closed when I felt his fingers against the skin by my waist, swiftly undoing the button of my jeans in a craftily, effortless manner.
I didn't know if I sighed or moaned when he began to glide my pants down before fingering my panties and taking them along for the ride.
When I failed to respond to his racy demand he let his nose brush against mine and kissed me so firmly on the lips that it hurt.
“Say, okay Dr. Miller,” he demanded now.
I swallowed hard. “Okay, Dr. Miller.”
“Good girl.”
The world might as well have stood still when our bodies were entwined. Never, not once in my life, had an intimate encounter left me feeling so out of touch with the rest of the world.
Explosions of passion transpired in every kiss, every touch, every careless whisper only to be shared between the two of us. I felt it. I knew Dr. Miller felt it, too.
At times he was patient, numbing me with his fingers as he slowly and carefully turned my thighs to Jello. Other times he was forceful and hard, leaving me unable to even choke out a moan because my body was tense and tight and I was on the verge of exploding. He stopped each time he could tell I was close to my climax, controlling the pace of the foreplay, the lovemaking and everything in between.
Fuck, the stamina on this man!
Details of the night would be forever ingrained in my mind. The squeezes of his hands against mine. The firm hold on my throat that I encouraged through a chorus of moans each time he did it. The look in his eyes that alternated between dominant and desperate as he thrusted hard on top of me.
I had no idea how much time had passed when we finally laid quietly together with nothing but the sounds of our own breathing to fill the air. For several minutes I laid there with my eyes closed holding him close. Dr. Miller was a hot, sweaty mess on top of me. I was certain I felt and sounded and looked the same way.
If there was one thing I worried about it was the aftermath of a sexual encounter. Would the man want to cuddle? Would he ask you nicely to leave? Was it just about the sex? Did men worry about any of that stuff?
Dr. Miller’s arm was locked around my naked waist. It was possessive, and from him, alone, I craved that. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to be mine. That may have been wrong, or too intense for the length of time we had been in each other's lives; but that's how I felt. I realized, now, that I couldn't do this once. I couldn't do it twice or three times. I wasn't going to be the girl he called on occasion for a random hookup. None of that was possible - not for me. There would be no getting enough of this. The chemistry that existed between us was on a level I had no prior experience with.
My chest heaved up and down with a deep sigh. It prompted him to finally loosen his grip on me as his head lifted from the pillow we were sharing.
Moment of truth, I thought. I could usually read what a man's intentions were; at least I thought I could. Was Dr. Miller as into me as I thought he was? I couldn't be reading this all wrong, could I?
I wasn't about to let misplaced doubt kill the moment. I bit down on my bottom lip and slowly smiled, prompting him to do the same. When a low chuckle escaped him I echoed it with a giggle of my own.
He propped himself up on his forearm now and hovered above me with pillow-tossed hair. Such a beautiful, rugged mess he was. For a moment neither of us said anything; though did we really need to?
I let out another flustered breath as he leaned down and touched his lips to mine, staying there as if it would be the last time. Simultaneously, my hand found his bearded cheek, the other gently roamed through his messy hair.
We sighed together as the kiss broke off and I knew something had to be said.
“Dr. Miller-”
“Call me Joel,” he cut me off, referring to himself in such a different way than he had in the verbal foreplay that had kicked off our encounter.
I knew it would be difficult referring to him by his first name. In my quiet thoughts, fears and fantasies he would always be Dr. Miller; but I certainly couldn't continue to refer to him in that way.
“Joel..” I smiled again and sighed. That was it. That was all I had. I couldn't think of a coherent sentence. Not when my body still ached for all we had just done and more.
“(Y/N).” His gravelly voice ignited something inside of me - even more so when the weight of his body still blanketed mine.
For a moment I just held him. With our current, uncertain circumstances I had no idea if I would ever truly get this chance again. My hand rested on his cheek and then I leaned my head forward and kissed him again.
His next question made me feel safe and secure - a contrast to the hot-and-bothered, reckless way I had been feeling all night. “What side of the bed do you want?”
I was sure the diameter of my smile stretched my face to the limits. He officially asked me to stay.
“Either side.” I didn't care. I would have slept in the stiff, decorative chair in the corner of the room if he asked me to.
With a chuckle, he pushed himself away and slunk out of bed, slipping just his boxer-briefs back on. “Well decide. I have to go put the fire out downstairs.”
I let out a light flutter of laughter and agreed to his terms, watching him as he exited the room. I was alone with my thoughts, now, smiling at the ceiling. The sheets felt cool against my hot skin.
I could still feel a sting on the right side of my buttocks where Dr. Miller had indulged in perhaps the most pleasurable spanking of my life. My hand fell over the area and I smiled again, covering his hand print with my palm to feel the warmth he left there.
“Fuck..” I whispered the word to myself in the tastefully, exhausted state he had left my body in. If I died right then, I would die happy.
When he returned, my eyes drank in his physique. Chest hair trailed down the center of his rugged form down below his belly button. A lone scar decorated the top of his left arm and his typically perfectly-styled hair had been tugged in all different directions, leaving him with the most adorable fashion faux-pas.
Dr. Miller pressed the dimmer all the way down and closed the door, replacing the picture-perfect image in front of me with just a silhouette. When he slid back in behind me, my body naturally melted into his.
“Hope you don't mind the right side of the bed,” he said quietly in my ear, slipping one of his feet between mine as he pulled me against him even tighter.
“Mmm..” My eyes closed, “I don't mind.” I was exhausted, but I didn't want the moment to end. Despite the heaviness of my eyes I fought it. It wasn't until I heard Dr. Miller's quiet snores in my ear that I finally gave in. In the warmth of his bed with his body wrapped securely around mine, I got the best sleep of my life.
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
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#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#joel miller x oc#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal pictures#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal gif#pedro pascal x oc#pedro pascal x female reader#joel miller tlou#joel miller gif#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#the last of us fic#tlou fic#joel miller fic#professor joel#protective joel
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American Woman || Remus Lupin x American!Fem!Reader
jesus christ. i'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to update this story. i think i got very overwhelmed with posting all of it, and the whole entire thing just so happens to be like... 10k words and i frankly don't have time to go through and edit all of that right now. good for more parts, right? also SLOW BURN? please tell me that one of you picks up on it. pls.
i wish i could promise that the next part won't be so long away, but i genuinely can't promise anything </3
as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated <3
part 1 here, mb here
word count: 3.4k
warnings: this isn't necessarily happy, kind of stressful, a wee graphic (?), maybe like two swear words, quickly edited, i'm sorry
The Eldritch Manor had one bedroom with a double bed in the center of it and two dressers. Remus, who had already claimed one of the dressers, had given the bed to you since you were the “guest” in the safe house, but you had every intention of switching with him after his change in a week.
All the things the change did to a body was devastating, and you knew the small leather sofa wasn’t going to do any good for him or his already aching limbs.
Remus wasn’t young for his age. He was turning nineteen in a few months, but his body aged quicker due to the trauma it was put through every month, making his body at least thirty-five. He had a cane propped up against the wall near the front door that he hadn’t used yet, multiple first aid kits stacked under the bathroom sink, and cabinets full of prescription grade no-maj pain-killers, given to him out of love by his no-maj born friend.
He knew his body was much older than yours, and yet, he crammed himself onto the tiny, two-seater sofa in front of the fireplace the first night happily, telling you to sleep well.
You woke in the chilly bedroom and dressed casually: jeans and a thick, navy blue knit sweater. You paired it with wool socks, happy you had thought ahead and brought warm clothes.
The Manor was drafty, as you learned last night when you nearly froze yourself to sleep once you shut the bedroom door.
You poked your head out of the bedroom, seeing Remus still asleep on the couch, an open book laying on the ground next to him. His scarred face this peaceful was a comforting sight. Your heart clenched as he shifted, knowing this would most likely be his last good sleep for a week and a half, the moon getting fuller and fuller every night.
Remus looked so young; much younger than he had looked last night in the light of the fire. His lanky legs were curled up under him, sure to crack when he woke up and stretched. His cheek was squished against the arm, soft puffs of air blowing through his lips.
It had been a late night discussing both of your lives, mugs of tea warming your hands as you sat in the recliner across from Remus on the couch.
Remus had grown up in Wales under the protective shadow of his mother and father, Lyall and Hope. Hope was a muggle homemaker, and Lyall worked for the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Since this department was so broad, it was very mismanaged, and the werewolf registry had gone unnoticed for a long time.
Fenrir Greyback was brought in for questioning after two muggle children were killed, their bodies showing signs of a werewolf attack. Greyback wasn’t registered, but Lyall recognized all the signs he showed, claiming that he was, indeed, a werewolf.
“Soulless!” Lyall had yelled during that hearing. “Evil, wretched creatures! They deserve nothing but suffering and death!”
He was then thrown from the hearing, ultimately sealing his son’s fate as Greyback was released that same day.
Greyback broke and entered into their home, turning Remus shortly before his fifth birthday, changing Lyall’s views on lycanthropy forever.
The Lupin’s became nomads, moving from small village to small village, trying to contain their child’s behavior by keeping him as a recluse. He had a loving home, but had never known friends before Hogwarts.
You, on the other hand, grew up in New York, in a small town near Lake Placid. Your upbringing was fairly normal. Your muggle father worked as a carpenter, whereas your mom worked for the Wizarding Resources Department for the Magical Congress of the United States in New York City. She was gone from the time you woke up until shortly after you went to bed most days.
Because of that, it was mainly you and your father, who treated you like you were made of solid gold. He was a fantastic chef, an amazing storyteller, and the reason why you were able to be independent in your young adult life, giving you the courage to stand on your own two feet.
Since your town was surrounded by woods, it was unsafe to go out at night in fear that the creatures of the forest would take you away.
You were nine when the howling you often heard far out in the forest came closer. They were outside in the streets of your town. In the homes of your neighbors.
What was to become of your friends? The girl down the street that invited you to her sixth birthday party? The boy you sat next to in second grade? The woman who handed out full-sized candy bars on Halloween?
Their homes were being ravaged by monsters.
Screams followed the howls, and the two of you did as you were supposed to: you hid under your bed until the streets got quiet again, and your muggle father, only armed with a shotgun, sat by the front door in wait.
Your house, miraculously, was untouched.
When the howls stopped, and the screams turned to cries, you crawled out from under your bed, finding your father horror-struck by the picture window, staring out at the carnage.
You couldn’t help but peek, seeing your neighbor boy, Lukas, writhing on the tar, his mother wailing as she tried to cover his exposed insides. He was your friend. The boy who taught you how to play ball.
How could they? Your little brain screamed. What kind of monster could do that? He was a child!
Your father pulled you away from the window, his eyes wide as he knelt down to look at you.
“Don’t blame the wolves, sweetheart,” he said, his voice grave. “Nobody has ever shown them kindness. They don’t know any better.”
You tiptoed to the kitchen, bringing your small suitcase, to begin brewing your first batch of wolfsbane for him.
You set up on the kitchen table and began carefully brewing the potion. Sure, it was difficult, but you could do it with your eyes closed at this point.
“Wolfsbane, betony, and a drop of dittany,” you mumbled to yourself, dropping it all in a cauldron before adding some water. You let it steep over the stove top, taking a peek back into the living room.
Remus was still asleep, mouth now open as his feet hung up and over the armrest. The blanket had fallen off of him at some point, leaving him in flannel bottoms and a plain, white t-shirt. How was he not freezing?
You checked your watch. You had about a minute before you needed to stir the potion and add bat spleen powder and another drop of dittany. Surely, you could put the blanket back over him.
Or would that be too presumptuous? That’s something a friend would do, right? Or a lover, for that matter. Was Remus even your friend? He could be even though you just met. He gave up the bed for you, and the two of you had spilled your life stories to one another. Surely, that meant something.
You shook your head at the thought, turning back to the burner to continue the potion.
Remus woke up near the end of your process, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched and sat up.
He saw you standing in the doorway of the kitchen, calling out, “You chilly? I can start another fire.”
You glanced over your shoulder, noticing him staring at you from the couch, his hair mused from sleep. Your cheeks started to burn as you looked back at the potion.
“If you want to, sure,” you said, eyes on the potion. “Otherwise, this is almost done, then I can do it.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he got up with a groan, taking a squat near the fireplace.
Your brain screamed as your cheeks continued to burn. Remus was a very handsome guy, but you weren’t supposed to feel anything for him, except maybe bad for his situation.
But he was kind, and you could tell he was the most gentle out of all of his friends you met last night. He seemed to care.
If you were going to feel anything for anyone in England, it was always going to be him.
A blue plume of smoke caught your attention. You pulled the small cauldron off the burner and strained it into a mug.
You turned around, watching Remus light the fire and take a seat on the couch, his brown eyes locking to yours as you entered the room.
You handed him the freshly brewed potion, taking a seat at his feet. “Drink up while it’s still warm,” you said, urging the mug to his lips. “It isn’t as bad when it’s warm.”
Remus’ nose crinkled. “You don’t understand how terrible it tastes.”
“I’ve tried it,” you said. “Just drink it, and I’ll make you some green tea.”
He sighed, throwing you a glare before downing the potion and holding back a gag. He thrusted the mug into your hands, his palms meeting his forehead as he groaned.
“See? Not as bad warm,” you teased, reaching out to pat his knee.
Remus shook his head. “‘S just as bad.”
“‘M sorry,” you cooed. “How do you want your tea?”
“Plain,” he muttered, his palms finally leaving his forehead. “Not green. Earl grey if possible.”
“Fresh out,” you said, having just thrown away the box last night. He groaned. “Do you want coffee instead?”
“Black?” He asked, perking up.
“I can do that,” you said. “You should get dressed. ‘M assuming we’ll be getting guests soon.”
He nodded and shuffled off into the bedroom while you walked back into the kitchen.
You heard a door open behind your back. Assuming it was Remus who might’ve forgotten something, you didn’t turn around, not wanting to seem like you were checking on him.
“Where’s that lass?” A bassy man shouted from the front door. “That American woman?!”
You almost screamed, peeking out from the kitchen.
The man standing at the door was a marvel. Despite his low and loud voice, he stood stout at just five and a half feet, he looked miniscule compared to the large man that barged in next to him..
Remus poked his head out of the bedroom, looking at you in the kitchen doorway, eyebrows furrowed.
As if he could sense your silent confusion, the short man laughed loudly. “I’m Demolcles Belby! I’m told you’re Bane,” he said then looked at Remus. “You must be Moony then?”
Remus smiled tightly and nodded once at the short man, glancing back at you before disappearing behind the bedroom door again, closing it.
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you nervously wiped your hands on your dark jeans as you crossed the small house.
“Hi, Mr. Belby,” you gushed, extending your hand toward him as you introduced yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Ah, someone who shares my passion?” He said, his grip tight on your hand. “The pleasure is all mine!”
“They sent you? You’re Bane?!” The other man, who you assumed to be Mr. Moody from his gruff hmph, barked. “You’re just a kid!”
You stood straighter, taking the familiar insult with narrowed eyes. “You must be Mr. Moody? The one who wanted me to disapparate across the ocean?” You asked, extending your hand to him. “I’d like to think that I’m more than just a kid.”
Remus came back into the living room as Moody snubbed your hand. He was dressed in a dark green button up and jeans, staring at your extended hand, eyebrows furrowed.
“She’s much more than a kid, Alastor!” Belby shouted back, taking your hand into his. “She jus’ so happens to be the Congress’s most innovative potioneer! Why, you’re lookin’ at the lass who tried figurin’ out a way to produce wolfsbane potions at mass market value.”
Remus looked between you and the man before wandering into the kitchen for his promised cup of coffee.
“That’s expensive,” Moody scoffed, briefly glancing at Remus leaving before returning his attention to you. “You’d never be able to afford the resources without making it cost thousands of galleons.”
“Well, when you have a greenhouse filled with the most important ingredient, and almost everything else is locally sourced, it becomes a lot less expensive,” you said, a small smirk playing on your lips as he grumbled under his breath. “My only issue is preservation. Simply jarred? It spoils during the new moon. Canned? Possible since it won’t spoil, but not ideal… The taste is still there. Pill form? Now-”
“A wolfsbane pill?” Remus piped in, now standing next to Moody, a warm mug in his hands. “That’s genius.”
“I’d like to think it’s possible,” you said, your cheeks turning pink. “I just have to find out a way to turn the potion to powder and-”
“That’s not what you’re here for,” Moody cut you off, crossing his arms.
You shut your mouth, teeth grinding as you tightened your jaw. “I know that,” you quipped, standing straighter.
“All work and no play. Isn’t that, Bane?” Belby chuckled, slapping your back. “We should probably get crackin’, now shouldn’t we?”
You threw him a tight smile, nodding before looking at Remus, who was already staring.
“We-” Moody said, his attention turning to Remus. “-have our own matters to attend to.”
Remus nodded once, clearing his throat. “Right,” he mumbled, glancing back at you. “Good luck.”
You smiled slightly, mumbling, “Thanks, you too.”
That’s how the rest of the week continued. Moody would angrily drop Belby off so that the two of you could continue your work while Remus disappeared with him, wishing you well on his way out the door.
Belby wasn’t horrible to work with. Rather, he was a joy, just a bit too loud for your liking. Sure, he had a lot of interesting stories, and you genuinely learned a lot from him when he wasn’t shouting about his brother’s kid, but when someone shouts around you for eight hours a day, it starts to become grating.
Especially when trying to figure out a way to turn a liquid to a vapor while exploding at the same time.
You took many bathroom breaks just to get some peace and quiet, staring at yourself in the mirror and asking yourself if you had done the right thing in coming here.
Remus would always come back in the evening, usually having just eaten at the pub with his friends. His spirits seemed to be high every time he reappeared for the night, happy to be home even if you didn’t talk to him very much.
He’d quietly sit on the couch after stoking the fire and fixing himself a drink, his nose in one of the many books strewn along the floor. He’d always place a glass of water next to you as he passed, his scarred hand gently squeezing your shoulder.
You frankly had little time to eat or talk, your forehead in your hands as you stared at the papers in front of you. The now daily migraine thumped against your skull as you read and reread and reread the papers in front of you.
How on Earth were you going to craft a bomb? The whole project felt like a bite that was just too big to chew. You weren’t Oppenheimer.
“Hiya,” Remus cooed as soon as the front door opened on the evening of the full moon, smiling as he saw the back of your head tipped down over your makeshift desk by the fireplace, fingers on your temples. “Alright?”
You lifted your head, glancing over your shoulder to see him toeing off his shoes. “Sure,” you said, looking back at the papers. “How’s it going with you?”
Remus hummed in response, bringing a chair over to sit next to you. “Oh, you know,” he said, peeking over your shoulder with a small, lopsided smile. He smelled like whiskey, sour and sweet. “‘M just dandy.”
You checked your watch, looking at the low sun outside of the window. “Should probably make your potion,” you mumbled, your head in your hands again.
“‘S alright. I’ve got an hour,” he said absently, narrowing his eyes at the paper. “Have anything figured out yet?”
You dropped your hands from your shaking head, pushing yourself away from the desk. “I’m essentially trying to make mustard gas.” You got up, stretching out. “Pretty hard when it needs to be done now.”
“Who gave you that timeline?” Remus hummed, following you into the kitchen.
“Who do you think?” You asked, deadpan.
Remus snorted quietly. “You don’t like him, do you?”
You shot him a look. “Does anyone?”
“He’s not all bad,” he said, sitting at the table near the stove. “Just very… serious. Thinks he’s saving people, but in a way, he kind of is.” You shook your head, feeling his eyes on you as you filled the cauldron. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” You asked, trying desperately to ignore the honeyed way he was looking at you from his seat, your heart beginning to feel sticky from it.
Remus shrugged, sitting straighter. “Making me the potion every day… Being here.”
You glanced at him, catching him confidently staring before turning your back on him as you reached for ingredients, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. “Would you be alone otherwise?”
“I haven’t been alone for a transformation since I was fourteen,” he said quietly, finally averting his eyes as you busied yourself with the cauldron.
“Oh?” You asked, your turn to stare at the side of his head now. “Do you go to a pack, or-”
Remus smiled to himself, shaking his head. “James, Sirius, and Peter are animagi.”
“And they’d join you?” You asked, looking back at the boiling pot. “Rather brave-”
“Well, outside of the cage, yeah,” he mumbled, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face again as your eyebrows quirked up in thought. “You’re not allowed downstairs tonight,” he said seriously.
You added the wolfsbane, catching his stern stare. “I’ve had my fair share of being face to face with a wolf before-”
“No,” he cut you off, his gaze hardening. “You’re not coming downstairs, alright? I’ll be fine.”
“Remus-”
“Promise me that you’ll stay upstairs.” His hand was on yours suddenly, squeezing, his eyes pleading.
You looked at your hands, heat burning in your ears. “I’ll stay upstairs,” you mumbled, your response making him squeeze your hand harder.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, dropping your hand.
A lull fell over the two of you as you waited for the potion to finish, checking your watch again. Moonrise was in half an hour, and he had to be downstairs before then. The potion should finish in time, but he should’ve drank it an hour ago for him to be asleep in time of his transition. You added an extra drop of dittany and a bit of wormwood, stirring it again in hopes that it would be fine.
The potion plumed blue smoke, and you strained it, handing him the mug. “Bottoms up.”
He drank it, his nose hardly scrunching before he checked his watch, standing. “Lock the door behind me?”
You nodded reluctantly, tailing him to the basement door. He started his descent to the cage in the cold, brick basement.
“Good luck,” you said from the top of the stairs.
He glanced over his shoulder, smiling tightly. “Sleep well, Bane.”
Locking the basement door was hard, almost as hard as hearing Remus lock himself in the cage, the keys hitting the bottom step with a dull thud as he threw them from the cage.
You hoped the potion would kick in at the right time, rendering the wolf tired enough to just fall asleep before any damage could be done.
You hurried to the bedroom, dragging your blanket and pillow into the living room and trading it for Remus’ things. He’d have no choice but to sleep in the bedroom.
You sat on the couch, your bed for the next week, waiting.
Waiting for a noise.
A feeling.
Anything.
A low howl started from the basement, filling the house. Your heart sank. It didn’t kick in in time.
Another howl, this time, it sounded like a wail, rang through, followed by another, and another.
Was he crying? The wolf was crying.
You left Remus to suffer alone in a basement for the first time in five years.
You stood, pacing, as the cries turned to growls. You grabbed the keys and went to the basement door, standing in front of it. He made you promise to stay upstairs.
You couldn’t break that promise, even if he was alone.
You didn’t dare cross him twice.
Your eyes filled with tears as something crashed against the steps, another howl coming from the basement. Sinking against the door, you closed your eyes, your face in your hands.
If you couldn’t even get a potion that you’ve been making for years right for someone who hated what they were, why would you think you could try to help a whole group of ferals who enjoyed it?
Fuck.
taglist: @ttulipwritezz @jasontoddsmentaldisorders @acciotwinz @lilianelena39 @prongsprincessworld @hawkins-2000 @ginseng-green-tea
#remus lupin#part two#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x american!fem!reader#remus lupin angst#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fic
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Hey there, Lovely!❤
I have an idea for a fic, it can be for either of the Weasley twins. Where he's cuddling with his girlfriend and she keeps telling him he has to get up because he has quidditch practice, but he doesn't want to go just yet
Frozen Mornings - George Weasley x reader
Warnings: None
You snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blanket, the soft sounds of crackling fire filling your ears as you lay in the cozy common room of Gryffindor Tower. It was a cold winter morning, and you could see fluffy snowflakes falling gently outside the window.
Your boyfriend, one of the mischievous Weasley twins, George, was lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. He was usually one to jump out of bed with enthusiasm, but today, he seemed reluctant to leave the warmth.
"You know, you really should get up now, George," you murmured, your voice tinged with an affectionate tone. "Quidditch practice starts soon, and you wouldn't want to be late."
George nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.
You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his fiery hair. "You do realize Oliver Wood would skin you alive if you missed practice, right?"
George groaned playfully and tightened his hold around you. "But I don't want to get out of bed just yet. It's so warm and cozy here with you."
You traced circles on his back absentmindedly, understanding his unwillingness to leave this paradise of blankets and love. "I know it's tempting, love, but you've got to fulfill your Quidditch duties. The team needs their star beater."
He let out a dramatic sigh, staring up at you with puppy-dog eyes. "Can't you just come with me? We can be rebellious together and hide out in the broom shed."
You laughed at his cheeky suggestion. "As tempting as that sounds, I think it's best if you go solo this time. I'll be waiting here for you, with hot chocolate and all the cuddles you can handle when you get back."
He pretended to consider your offer, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, fine. But only if you promise to keep the bed warm for my return."
"I promise," you said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You better hurry now, though. The clock is ticking, and Wood won't be pleased if he finds you sleeping when he arrives."
George finally relinquished his hold on you, sitting up with a groan. "Alright, alright. I'm going. But remember, it's all your fault if I get frostbite or something because I didn't have those extra few minutes with you."
You watched as he got out of bed, wrapping himself in a thick sweater to ward off the chill. He turned back to you with a playful smirk. "Don't worry, Lovely. I'll make up for it later."
With that promise hanging in the air, he bid you a quick goodbye and dashed out of the room, leaving you alone in the warm cocoon of blankets. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and love for the mischievous redhead, knowing that he would always find a way to make you smile, even on freezing mornings like this.
And as you snuggled back into the blankets, patiently awaiting his return, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have found a partner who could make even the coldest moments feel incredibly warm and full of love.
#y/n#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#george weasley#george weasley x reader
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Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are well, I would like to do a FGO commission, Headcannons for Morgan Le Fay, Baobhan Sith, Mélusine and Barghest in love with Reader (Master) I would really like to see this, please let me know if you can or not, it's ok if you can't , thank you 😊
Your Wish Is My Command!
(My first Fate request, I had a lot of fun with this! Especially Barghest, but that’s probably because she’s my favorite! Sorry if it’s shorter than you were expecting or if a lot of it doesn’t make sense. My allergies have been kicking my ass and I had to take one of those pills that knock you out harder than Mike Tyson when I wrote this!)
Morgan Le Fay
Morgan has the type of style that could only be defined as “Extravagantly Simplistic”
If you don’t understand what I mean by this just look at her dress.
This same style and poise carries over into the relationship you two share.
It doesn’t matter if it’s sleeping or fighting she always keeps a certain elegance about her no matter what.
But this doesn’t mean she’s cold, in fact it’s quite the opposite, she is a very warm hearted person especially with you.
All of that said, do be careful whenever you hear her reciting something under her breath in the Fae tongues, it could be anything from a curse to a shopping list, or both!
Morgan is definitely the small spoon, in pretty much everything when she’s with you but she doesn’t mind being the big spoon every now and then.
She’s probably very violently dismembered someone after they insulted you then asked if you wanted ice cream with a smile.
All in All Morgan is a very kind and giddy significant other unless you are put in the crosshairs of something which in that case… well just pray she doesn’t torture it for to long.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“OH! Hello there my spouse! I’m glad to see your wounds have healed!” a blood drenched Morgan happily exclaimed as she kicked a flayed arm into a magical fire.
You simply gazed at the fire and asked “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was the guy who got the jump on me?” plainly, completely used to Morgan’s overprotective nature.
Morgan simply smiled and nodded
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Baobhan Sith
Baobhan’s style is simply extravagant, at least until she’s alone but I’ll circle around to that in a bit.
In a LOT of way’s she’s a brattier version of her mother.
Be warned though, she is stubborn and petty! Which is quite the combination!
She definitely strikes me as the type to spend her days off sitting in a too large T-Shirt and shorts eating Ice Cream while watching horror movies alone before she accidentally puts on a soap opera and gets sucked in.
She will not hesitate to roast someone so hard they spontaneously combust.
Baobhan is not someone who likes large gatherings of people so she much prefers quality time with just the two of you though she’d rather die before admitting it.
She Says she's a top, she’s not, she’s a sub, small spoon in everything she couldn’t be the big spoon if she tried.
Baobhan is probably the second most possessive person on this list.
That being said she’s probably the last one to jump to violence, wounds are temporary, the destruction Baobhan can unleash with her words is eternal.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
You opened the door to the home that you and Baobhan shared where you immediately tripped over an ice cream carton which was followed by the sound of someone scrambling to change the channel on the TV.
When you walked into the living room you saw Baobhan surrounded by an army of Ice cream cartons with puffy red eye’s
“Were you crying?” You asked.
“nO!” Baobhan lied poorly
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Mélusine
Melusine’s style is quote: “Warm”
Sweaters, pants, jackets, the works.
She’s a very physical person, all about hugs, handholding, and staying together no matter what.
All of that said, she is the second quickest to violence on this list.
She will absolutely NUKE whatever tries to harm you.
Bug?
NUKED!
Rat?
NUKED!
Some random jackass?
NUKED!
Crippling loneliness?
ABSOLUTELY OBLITERATED!!!
Mélusine is the smolest of spoons.
That being said! She will ABSOLUTELY use her size and cute eyes against you!
You have had to stop her from destroying the world on more than one occasion, usually because of traffic.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“So when are you going to be home My Master? The show will be starting soon!” Mélusine asked energetically.
You swallowed deeply as you said “Ah… right about that…” before trailing off.
“Master, think VERY carefully about what you say next.” Mélusine coldly stated.
“I’m caught in traffic” You quickly exclaimed, ripping the bandaid off.
Silence was all you heard before a loud boom
“Mélusine nO-”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Barghest
Barghest’s Style is just cute clothes like sundresses, she also likes to wear earthy colors.
Barghest is pretty awkward, she’s not really sure how to hug or kiss you most of the time mostly because of her size but also because she genuinely loves you and is afraid that she’ll eat you.
Well I say kiss, she licks you but that’s not the point.
Strikes me as the type to just mope around unless the two of you are together or if she’s doing something which usually includes cooking large portions of food, exercising, or watching something that catches her attention which is usually whatever has a catchy tune and some form of well choreographed action.
She loves being the big spoon though she also enjoys being the small spoon on occasion though before the two of you could even get to that point you had to teach her how to cuddle.
Barghest gets jealous pretty easily so watch out for that because that’s usually when she gets possessive and when she gets possessive… Well, I'll let you imagine what happens next (Hint: It involves any form of cushioned space around human size and biting).
She loves cooking, even more so when you’re with her, though be warned her “Normal sized” Portions could feed five men, so you're just going to have to force yourself to eat it.
She’s willing to get into a fight if she has to but she prefers not to.
You constantly have a bite mark on your collar bone, she also licks you on the neck when asked why she does this she gets a possessive and hungry glint in her eyes like she’s daring someone to challenge her and says.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“I want every single man, woman, child, non-binary and agender person to know you are mine, Master!”
“Oh, okay!” You quietly squeaked out embarrassed.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
#barghest x reader#melusine x reader#Baobhan sith x reader#Morgan le fay x reader#fgo#Fate#fate grand order
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Haiii!!!!! Coming in with an ask to hopefully brighten your day at least a little!
I keep thinking about renting a quiet cabin somewhere where there's lots of snow for the holidays. I'm due in a month or so, so we wanted to spend one last holiday season snuggled up together before our bundle of joy is here. We get snowed in, but there's no cause for worry; we've got plenty of supplies and each other's company. Cozying up next to the fire, donning massive sweaters that look ridiculous yet adorable on us. Mine would be tight around the belly, but that makes for easy belly rub access, so I view that as a plus. I'd get you all situated by the fire with plenty of pillows and blankets before waddling off, coming back a few minutes later with some warm cookies and two mugs of cocoa. After everything's situated and settled, I'd crawl into your cocoon of blankets to snuggle up next to ya, letting my belly, alive with the movements of our little nugget, rest gently on your tummy. A perfect evening for a snowed-in couple of goobers, and as the fire smolders to embers, we'd either sleepily head to bed or decide to stay snuggled up on the couch for the night.
Or something like that sdjbahdahsbfha I am rambling hard. I am very eepy so thoughts are a little jumbly rn. Anyways enjoy this slightly messy Marin Brain Thought™
Marin, light of my life, the sweetest friend to ever exist!!!!!!!!! I am kissing your head because that brain is beautiful and I am so very appreciative of this ask it hits me in the feels for the cozy and domestic stuff!!
We take this moment—it's the holiday season and we deserve a break before baby comes—to disappear into a cozy cabin for the remainder of the holiday season. Our perfect second baby moon (I would have taken you on another holiday while you were around five months pregnant because the woman carrying my baby DESERVES A HOLIDAY) to not only reign in the new year but to celebrate us before bringing in a new being. I have made sure that we've got the coziest place with the perfect views before booking our nearly three week trip.
I have purposefully overpacked so we would have our favorite blankets, pillows, pjs, and even some of the baby's stuffed toys so we would feel comfortable on vacation. I have never been anywhere that has snow that didn't melt the next day so this is exciting for me. I've got new jackets and jumpers for us to cuddle in by the fire so we stay pleasantly bundled while watching the snow fall. I hope the baby is as excited for this trip as we are because this cabin is perfect and I don't really want to leave.
You bury me in our soft things and all the things we found in the cabin to make a nest of the living room floor. We don't have our at home but this will do as a temporary replacement. I keep trying to drag you back in to get warm though you keep escaping my grasp to waddle away. When you come back with snacks and cocoa I can't help but imagine our little nugget toddling right beside you with our newest addition nestled safely in your now noticeable bump. Who knows, maybe I'll be the one wrapped up in blankets with our newest addition while you get snacks for our happy toddler.
As you nestle down beside me my arms bring you in close, a hand spraying over your swell to feel our baby. That jumper is stretched so thin we can see their movements clearly—I love pointing out their little feet and poking them to play. Once we're settled I talk about how this is a perfect tradition to continue with our family, and how I can't wait to have another baby with you.
#;ask and ye shall receive#domestic things#darling Marin#;🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 MARIN#;THIS IS TOO CUTE I LOVE IT#;now my brain is stuck on domestic and it is going to become my whole personality#;you are too sweet and precious for this world
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This is so self-indulgent I should be shot just for thinking it. Anyways, have some teacher! reader x graduated! Eddie headcanons. Warnings for language and some sexual content.
Eddie's not so busy at his new mechanic job that he can't stop by Hellfire on some week nights to haze Mike on his DMing skills and tell a bunch of dirty jokes.
He's still in his coveralls—sleeves tied around his waist and his white shirt beneath stained with grease—dropping a pack of Mountain Dew on the table and slapping Dustin on the back.
The boys, of course, are happy to see him, but whatever greetings they offer are cut off as soon as they see the deep purple bruises sucked into the column of his throat.
Then there's screaming.
The campaign is put on immediate pause. All their energy is directed into demanding Eddie tell them who the fuck did that.
He grins, cheeky in a way that just screams this was the outcome he hoped for, waiting for them all to quiet down before he lets the words slipped out his curved lips.
"Oh those? My girlfriend gave them to me."
Que more screaming.
There's accusations of bullshit. And cries of betrayal (mostly from Dustin) for keeping it a secret. And, louder than all of that, demands to know who she is.
Eddie sits back in one of the chairs, head pillowed in his hands as they sling rapid-fire guesses at him.
That bartender you told us about? The girl at the record store? Or that one scooping ice cream when you took us to the movies? She was giving you eyes. (She was? Eddie blurts out, forgetting for a moment to act cool.)
He collects himself just long enough to drop a real bomb on them.
"Nah, it's none of them," he grins, "you know her."
Total fucking devastation.
The boys are faced with their greatest mystery yet: who is fucking Eddie the freak Munson?
Nobody can pay attention in class at a time like this; they pass notes between the spaces beneath their desks.
It shouldn't be that hard. They don't know that many girls.
Do you think it's nancy? Dustin scratches into the paper.
Lucas stifles a laugh before passing it to Mike. He makes a face.
Neither of the other boys have to read to know he's writing the word gross.
Lucas writes down maybe it's your mom, mike before showing Dustin over his shoulder. He fakes a coughing fit to cover his laughter.
Mike tosses the paper to the floor, punching Lucas on the arm instead of writing out a response.
Your eyes catch on the movement as you turn back from the board, voice strict when you let out a surprised "Mr. Wheeler."
Mike mumbles an apology, ducking his head to hide his blush. He's still uncomfortable with having eyes on him.
With their heads pointed down towards their notes, they're all to busy to notice that Hawkins High's newest faculty member is wearing a turtleneck on a day that's just a little too warm for a sweater.
When Eddie's head pops in the classroom door, though, Dustin's the first to connect the dots.
"Sorry," he smiles, holding out a brown sack lunch, "you forgot this morning."
Holy. Fucking. God.
The whole class breaks out in whispers.
Or almost the whole class.
Dustin, Lucas and Mike still have their jaws on the floor.
You take the lunch, roll your eyes. Eddie blows you a kiss from the door.
You're not at all the type of person he thought he'd fall for.
Mrs. O'Donnell retired at the beginning of the summer, right after he graduated.
(He's only about 70% sure that it wasn't his fault)
Whatever. It brought you here to Hawkins.
And Eddie loves being your boyfriend.
He wakes up in the mornings with you—even though he doesn't have to be to the garage for another few hours—just to watch you get ready and make you coffee just the way you like for your thermos.
He's also the reason you're late to work so often 👀
Eddie can't get e-fucking-nough of your little teacher outfits
He's obsessed with every pair of sheer tights and tight little pencil skirts and the buttons on your tops.
All of your stockings have snags in them from his rings >:(
He sits you on the tabletop the second you get home so he can pet his hands over your thighs and under your hemlines.
That's if he waits until you get home.
Grading late? Eddie will keep you company.
. . . or make out with you on your desk.
He shows up on your prep period sometimes, offering a smile and a "just missed you, baby."
And it always ends with you pinned up against the chalkboard.
You gotta buy more turtlenecks because he cannot keep his hands or his mouth off you.
You'd never make fun of him for repeating his senior year twice.
And hearing you say something like "you're so smart, Eddie"…….
praise kink activated
It just means a lot coming from you, you know? He's not getting a ton of validation, and you've got to know what you're talking about, since you're a teacher and all.
He'll call you teach when he wants to tease you.
Knocks on the wall by your door before Hellfire.
"Hope my kids aren't giving you any trouble, teach."
The boys do not know how to handle this.
Not like they'd even think of being dicks in your class, but still, Eddie can be a little scary sometimes.
So they're on their best behavior.
It's still kind of weird, though.
But not for Eddie.
Because '86 was his fuckin' year.
#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie x you#female reader#my writing
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Gold On Your Fingertips
Everyone knows me as a classic desert duo enjoyer. I wrote this in like,, 20 minutes so I can't promise it's any good. Also, song is Hostage by Billie Eilish. Just like a 900 word little one shot
Gold on your fingertips, fingertips against my cheeks.
Scar remembers it all now, in between worlds. He remembers the feelings of Grian’s callouses against his cheek. The sweltering desert sun falling through the windows,slanting against the golden man beside him. They are both made of gold, golden in the sun, in the heat of the desert, in the impenetrable fortress of their love. The desert burned, but Grian’s touch burned hotter.
He is floating now in the vacuum of space, bobbing around the end and waiting. It is where he goes to think. It is where he goes to remember. When the server is too quiet for his liking, Scar retreats into untouchable memories.
When they start a new series they leave behind the memory code, preventing repeats, preventing grudges, preventing endless cycles. They are made to forget what they have lived. Only echoes of what once was remains. But the memories are to stay far away, out of sight and out of mind.
Scar always did have a nasty habit of remembering.
So at night, in the quiet of the Mesa, Scar retreats into his mind. He travels through lines of code, past the code that describes him, his soul, his voice and his laugh, past the code of his heart, past the code of his friends. He travels beyond the code he is allowed to remember. He travels beyond Hermitcraft. And he travels into the past.
Gold leaf across your lips, kiss me until I can’t speak.
The sand glitters as fine as gold, coating everything. Scar finds it in his eyes and hair. He finds it in Grian’s mouth when he kisses him, combs it out of his feathers, and brushes it from his clothes. It’s all his clothes, Grian long abandoned the far too warm sweater, and if Scar isn’t going to wear his shirt, Grian might as well, right?
Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let me wear home.
They are bound together, standing in a ring of fire. Scar would let Grian win a thousand times over. He would take the breaking of his body if it meant that Grian would stay safe. He would live with any amount of pain to keep him safe. He didn’t even really put up a fight, couldn’t put up a fight. Every time he swung he saw gold, and that gold tasted like Grian’s chapped lips. And it smelled like his hair. And it blinded him like sand. And when he bled out in that cactus ring he thanked whatever god there was that it was him and not Grian.
He moves away now, not further, or backwards, but sideways, into another web of memories. He doesn’t know where he’s going. But he knows exactly where he’s going.
Gold’s fake and real love hurts
Scar’s life belongs to Grian. It has since the moment he was brought into this world, and it died with him. They were soulmates, tied together by something stronger than iron and gold or steel. Their lives belonged to each other, their hearts belonged to each other. Scar knew that Grian hated it. Scar knew that Grian couldn’t stand to be paired with him, he didn’t know why, couldn’t remember, but Grian could. Scar wouldn’t remember it then, but that would be his second time finding out that Grian is a watcher. Not that it mattered, Scar loved him foolishly. He ignored the pain of heartbreak, and he was loyal to the only person who had ever been loyal to him. He loved Grian in the sand and in the sun, he loved Grian in the fire and in the water and he would love Grian in the grave. Even if that was not reciprocated.
Scar screwed up his face at that, and pulled away from his memories. He felt a headache coming on, the headache he got when he wandered too far into memories he wasn’t meant to have. He rolled over in bed to stare out the window. His house overlooked the meager desert. It was just a small patch of sand really, nothing special. There was no cactus, he had made sure of it.
And nothing hurts when I’m alone, when you’re with me and I’m alone
He and Grian wandered together through the server, looking for somewhere to live. They found the desert, it ached in Scar’s soul as they found the desert, and he did not know why. There was little cactus there, not much. Grian began to chop it down, and Scar, never the one to let someone have it all, grabbed some too. He held the cactus in his hands, and blood ran down his fingers from the miniscule points, and as the blood dripped from his fingertips, it reminded him. Reminded him of sand, of golden sand in the searing sun.
“You can have the monopoly. You can have the cactus. You can have it all.” he found himself saying, handing over the plant.
Grian could have it all, anything he wants.
#fanfiction#angst#grian#desert duo#life series#trafficblr#traffic smp#double life scar#good times with scar#goodtimeswithscar#hermitshipping#trafficshipping
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Meggy m'sweet, it was an absolute pleasure to be able to write the two Cal Evans fics and don't worry, I definitely plan on doing more down the road (lol).
But can we like talk for a sec about you and Calvin expecting your first child together?? Because I have an itch that simply must be scratched!!!! (lol).
Maybe it's a really warm day in March, all the flowers are popping in the garden and you've had the day off from teaching since it's spring break for the college. Calvin decided to go on an early morning run with Six-Thirty and by the time he's gotten back, he sees you working on a little knitting/crocheted project. When you show him the tiny little pair of socks you've just finished, he's a stammering mess and sobbing.
He thinks it's absolutely hysterical that when you wake up in the morning, Six-Thirty is guarding the bathroom door while you're in there, because it finally clicked for the dog that you're pregnant and feels the need to protect you with his life (lol).
Your students and fellow professors are so excited for you and Cal, even though two people, one from finance and another lady in the high up administration, had gone to whatever lengths they could to have you and Cal fired, but thanks to the college president, your students and the other staff, you both were able to keep your jobs.
You thought he couldn't keep his hands off you when it was your honeymoon? Wait until you start showing (lol). When you two are laid up in bed at night, he loves to rest his head and hands on your bump just so he can feel the baby kicking. At night, when the little one is especially restless, his hands are really the only thing that can calm the precious little one down.
As you get closer to your due date, your girls try to take off as much of the load as they can by taking over the lectures. Mei, who was a bridesmaid at your wedding, ends up having to give your presentation on how to treat respiratory and digestive disorders and she does it both flawlessly and hilariously.
Your mother-in-law is over the moon when she hears that you and Cal are expecting your first child together. When you can't do it in your spare time, she's knitting and crocheting little hats, mittens, sweaters, socks and blankets. Call it mother-in-law's intuition, but Pat swore up and down from the time you told her that it would be a girl (lol).
It's a cold and snowy December day when it finally happens. Calvin was in the middle of a little experiment with his students when Dr. Powers poked his head in and told Cal that you had hitched a ride to the college's teaching hospital, about a two minute walk across the street. Cal's students literally halted everything and told him that they would wait until he got back, but they very quickly realized they couldn't so Dr. Powers took over the lesson instead (lol).
Calvin rushes across the street and straight to your room where you were with one of the girls from a previous class and the head delivery nurse. One of the more pretentious doctors told Calvin that he would need to leave as soon as it was time but your husband insisted on staying.
"Listen you brain dead idiot," Cal told him. "That's my fucking wife in there.....MY WIFE.....and she needs me just as much as she needs the nurses who are with her now. I could give a flying rat's ass if it's inappropriate or not, but you are NOT to kick me out of that room. Now if you'll kindly please remove yourself from the presence of this room, that'd be great."
So not only did Calvin give the pretentious son of a bitch the tongue lashing of a lifetime, but he also became the very first person in the history of the college to witness the birth of his first child (lol).
Your daughter, Ellen Patricia Evans, is born at the college's teaching hospital, as the snow is coming down outside, screeching her lungs out the minute she enters the world. She's a tiny little peanut with a full head of hair, barely fitting her mommy and daddy's arms. No sooner is everything all sorted out, than Calvin is excitedly running back across the street to his class where he proudly announced to his students and yours that you've just had a little girl.
You stay in the hospital for a good ten days before going home. During your stay, Calvin took home one of Ellen's baby blankets for Six-Thirty to sniff so he could get used to there being a new little human around. Six-Thirty becomes not only her biggest protector, but also her best friend and favorite playmate. Cal absolutely loves and adores Baby Ellen but you do get a little annoyed whenever she needs to be fed and he doesn't wanna put her down (lol).
Meggy I hope I didn't spam your inbox because I do remember sending in another thought for Cal but I'm not sure if it got to the inbox or not (lol).
Mary my love! wifey expecting her first baby with Calvin?! yesss! i just know he’d be the best daddy ever & would love his child unconditionally :,)
~ aww i love the thought of wifey being into knitting & the fact that she’s making little socks for the baby is so sweet! Cal getting emotional over it is just sooo🥹 you swear this man is actually the one experiencing the wacky pregnancy hormones with how much he cries over the thought of your baby & finally becoming parents.
~ i seriously love the idea of Six-Thirty being this protector over wifey! he’s the most loyal companion & will do anything to make sure that she’s safe no matter what. i also love that the students are all collectively excited for the parents to be & i can imagine them just trying to guess the gender & even give you both baby name suggestions, even though you & Cal have had it picked out even way before you found out you were pregnant🥰
~ oooh! i can totally see Calvin being super handsy with wifey while she’s pregnant. i see him coming up to her at different points of the day just to put his head up to her tummy & say hi to baby🥹 & tell her that daddy “can’t wait to meet her” & that “she’s going to be so loved!” im so soft over this. also i just know that this man loves taking you from behind too😵💫 you both are laying on your side in bed, while Cal makes slow thrusting movements against you with his hips. his plush tip hits that spot inside of you over & over again just right, as a hand remains on your swollen belly & his face is pushed into your neck, giving you sloppy loving kisses there & groaning into your ear in between hushed breathes, “i love that you’re so full of me sweetheart. love that i can hold your bump while you take my cock like the good little wife you are.”🫠😩 IM SO UNWELL.
~ aw i love that wifeys students are so involved & want to make things easier for her :,) also MIL knitting & making all of these little pieces for baby is just awesome!
~ nooo! not them telling Calvin to leave😤 i would be absolutely livid too! but i love Cal standing his ground & not giving up the fight just to be with wifey. AS HE SHOULD! that’s true love right there! & he the fact that he made history for being the only one to witness his baby girl’s birth?! a win WIN 🥰 i love it.
~ it’s actually funny. just a side note, i was born in a snowstorm, so i love that baby was born when it was snowing ! makes me as a winter baby feel seen🤣 haha anyways..i seriously love that Cal & wifey got to experience this life changing moment of giving birth together! & i love even more that he rushed back to tell his students that they had a girl :,) i really like how they both have such close bonds with their students & again just how involved they are :)
~ aw! Six-Thirty would fall in love with baby Ellen, just like everyone one else around him would🥹 he may have his moments where he’s seeking for attention, but he gladly accepts not being an only child anymore & will do anything & everything to keep baby safe & just be a companion to her like he is to Cal & wifey🥰
my darling, this was just everything i could’ve asked for! i seriously loved this & this little world we’ve both created for wifey & Calvin🥹 i can’t wait to keep reading your thots/thoughts & as well as your fics! i’ll be sure to keep sending mine in to your inbox too🥰 seriously, thank you for this & for everything you’ve written for Cal! i am obsessed with him, it’s not even funny🤣 haha, mwah! 💗💗
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Chapter 5: I Love You, Bro
"Any sign of them yet?" asked a troubled Koki.
"No," said a worried Aviva.
The two of them were keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of the Kratt brothers. It had been an hour since the search started, and the crew was only getting more an more concerned for their friends.
Suddenly, a thunder roared furiously, the electrifying lightning zipping across the sky making Jimmy scream in terror while piloting the Tortuga, he was getting stressed.
Aviva decided to call him, "Jimmy, come in. Koki and I can't see anything from up here, we need you to take us down into the forest!" She looked at him with worry in her eyes.
"Alright, going in!"
The Tortuga's wings folded before lowering into the rainforest, flying at tree level. Koki and Aviva were still looking, using goggles and a search light similar to the one they've used to find Chris and Martin during a nocturnal tarsier creature adventure once.
Dropelettes of rain quickly turned into heavier drops, and soon the sky was bucketing down rain on the entire rainforest. This made the crew even more anxious.
"I hope the guys are okay," Aviva's voice cracked.
Koki turned to her then put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, they're Kratts. I'm sure they're alright and somewhere safe," she said comfortingly. Aviva smiled thankfully then went back to searching, with more determination than ever.
Thunder.
Martin gasped at the horrifyingly loud sound. He took about five seconds to regain his breath, then his eyes turned to the entrance of the cave; it was raining heavily outside.
"Must've dozed off," he told himself while rubbing his face, feeling a little groggy.
His attention turned to his brother who started moaning and agitating uncontrollably, his head turning from right to left as he mumbled something in his sleep. Martin, worried about Chris' state, went over to place a hand on his forehead, only to find that his temperature has risen from earlier. This made him even more concerned, the fever was getting higher and he had to give Chris immediate medical attention. But he didn't have the first aid-kit with him, he also suspected that he was having a fever dream wich only made things worse.
He had to wake him up.
Chris was twirling rapidly while Martin held him by the arms and shook him. "Chris! Bro, wake up!"
His attempt worked because, the next thing he knew, Chris came back to the world of living, maybe a little too quick and looked around panically with feverish eyes.
"Chris, Chris, calm down, it's me Martin, everything's fine..." He tried calming him down, which only took a few seconds to work.
Chris slowly calmed down, breathing heavily, then looked at his older brother with blood-shot eyes, his expression told him that he was frightened. He could've sworn his eyes were teary.
"M-Martin," his voice was cracking really badly, as though he was about to burst into tears. He was shaking badly while his brother held him close in his arms.
"It's okay, bro, I'm here." Martin whispered in his brother's ear, attempting to comfort him.
They stayed in a sitting, hugging position for a while before Chris let out a sigh of relief.
"Feeling better?" Martin looked down at his little brother with caring eyes.
Chris slowly nodded, he was dealing with heavy headedness.
Martin wasn't even thinking about asking his brother about his dream, he just wanted him to feel safe.
He helped him into a sitting position by the fire to keep him warm, then picked up his blue sweater and tried to place it around his brother's shoulders...but was met with refusal.
"Martin, you can't give me your sweater, you'll catch a cold," his voice was sore.
"Chris," Martin's voice was firm. "You need it more than I do," he said with both a caring and serious tone.
"But-" Chris tried to protest but was instantly interrupted. "C'mon, haven't you had enough of being stubbern like this? Look where it led us!"
Chris' expression changed into one that Martin recognized automatically; the memory of Chris when he had to say goodbye to his cricket friend from years ago flashed before his eyes.
This made him feel bad a little.
"Chris I-" But before he could apologies, Chris beat him to it. "No, I'm sorry."
This made Martin a bit confused. "I just didn't think much of it at first, and when I remembered how excited you were yesterday about today's adventure, I just figured I would ignore myself..." He turned to make eye contact with his older brother. "I just didn't want to worry you."
Martin was listening to each and every word. That last phrase made him realize just how much he meant to his brother.
Chris turned his head away from Martin to look at the fire, his arms wrapped around himself.
"Chris," Martin sat next to him then wrapped his sweater around his little brother's shoulders just like he had the intention to before saying, "I love you, bro."
Chris' eyes widened as he looked straight at his older brother, the warm smile on his face confirming his words. Chris' expression changed too, into one full of warmth and affection, a smile crossed his face as they both side hugged in front of the fire.
"I love you, too."
A few minutes had passed, and the Kratt brothers were still in that same embrace, when suddenly-
"Chris! Martin!" They heard a familiar female voice call out.
Martin and Chris were both startled at the lound sound coming from outside. They both got up, Martin's arms wrapped around Chris fo support, and as soon as the two brothers stepped out of the cave, a wave of relief washed through them as a familiar blue ship was flying above their heads.
"The Tortuga! We're saved!" Martin yelled out with a mixture of enthusiasm and relief. Jimmy parked the ship right in front of them.
Just then, Koki and Aviva walked out with two umbrellas above their heads.
"Guys, we're so glad we found you!" Aviva said delightfully.
"Yeah, what happened to your creature pods and-" Koki stopped when she saw the state they were in. The two girls exchanged confused looks.
"Uhh, did we miss something?" Aviva asked.
Chris and Martin both looked at each other, and chuckled.
"It's a long story."
That was exactly what happened two days ago, the memory kept replaying in Martin's head ever since. He was brewing some tea for his ill brother, who was currently resting in his bed.
He held the warm mug in his hands and took it all the way to his and his brother's room. As soon as he stepped in, his eyes set on a sleeping Chris who was covered in his favorite blanket; he was wearing a light green shirt and comfortable dark green shorts.
Martin put down the mug on a bedside table before placing his hand on his brother's forehead; his fever was coming down now that he was receiving proper care.
A smile crossed his face as he saw how peaceful his little brother seemed, then Chris mumbled, "Thanks, bro." His eyes were still closed and his voice was shallow, but a familiar smile of warmth was on his face.
Martin's voice softened, now that he knew everything was going to be alright.
"Anytime, bro. Anytime."
#wild kratts#kratt brothers#chris kratt#martin kratt#aviva corcovado#koki#jimmy z#fanfiction#wk fanfic#hurt/comfort#A Sick Kratt#Chapter 5#fandom#fangirl power!
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Detail-oriented gratitude
I have a sweater whose praises I simply have to sing. I found it in a thrift store years ago; it is black, silky soft cotton and gigantically oversize. It drapes around my body like a dress, the sleeves extend past my fingers but they can easily be rolled up to my elbows when I work. I only wear it at home, but it serves a specific purpose which I shall now share. At times one of the symptoms my body puts me through is to have a sensation of arid heat all over me. When that happens, most fabrics feel like sand paper, including the softest of flannel sheets. If I'm enduring this soreness and feeling of being on fire at bedtime, and for some reason it always seems to start in the evening, I have to extend one arm out from under the covers to regulate temperature, but that arm, if bare, starts to feel cold in a matter of seconds.
That's where my sweater comes in. I have it hanging on a hook next to my bed, and I slip into it on these nights; as soon as that fabric touches skin, it's like I stepped into a glassy lake, cool and refreshing. As I feel the dull ache subside and the heat retreat, I slip in between the sheets and blankets, curl up and leave my arm over the top layer to regulate temperature, and this phenomenal cloak that is cooling me down warms my arm just enough to keep the discomfort at bay and let me fall asleep. It may seem crazy to feel this much appreciation for an old garment that I can't even wear in public, but I think the point I'm trying to make is that sometimes it is a minute detail that improves the quality of our lives, and I feel at times it is necessary to take a moment to feel grateful, not just for the generalizations, like food and shelter and material possessions of all kinds, but something tiny, almost insignificant, but that we truly appreciate. It can be the feeling of curry in our throat when it is sore, it can be the soothing sound of rainfall when we feel pain in our temples. There are so many little things that add to our comfort and well being.
If I hadn't been in that thrift store on that day at that time, if the person who discarded it had just thrown it in the trash, I would never have met my sweater. If I hadn't hung it on the hook, I wouldn't have reached for it at random one day when I was in pain at bedtime and discovered its distinct properties for countering that pain. I also have a tea cup a friend gave me that holds exactly two and a half servings of tea from a teapot another friend gave me. They both know how I feel about hot beverages. I have kitchenware, I have art supplies, I have so many humble things that transform my little apartment into my home. They don't have to be pristine or perfect for me to love them. Usually they were given to me or I stumbled upon them completely by chance. Usually they are useful. I don't have much more of a point to make, this was just a rambling thought. Perhaps we can call it detail-oriented gratitude.
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it’s finally getting wintery where i live and it’s got me thinking about ed being sensitive to the cold, at the first hint of a chill he gets shivery and his toes and fingers are icy to the touch, and not only does he get a sniffly nose but he gets watery eyes too so when he yawns or sneezes a tear will often slip out… and god forbid he gets sick on top of it all.. he goes small very easily when it’s cold out because it makes him feel not quite in control and like he wants to curl up in a big blanket, and when his face is drippy stede is always tutting over him and wiping his tears gently and making sure he has a handkerchief to blow his nose on, and all the sniffles and tears can trigger his muscle memory into making him feel like he wants to really cry, or at least have stede hold and shush him as if he was crying
Awwwww !!! Same here! We're getting in the -10°c here, v chilly!
And poor Ed's body just can't handle the cold! He's from a warm climate where the coldest days are basically spring days where he lives now and his body just doesn't know what to do!
So the first hint of coldness in the air has him wearing multiple pairs of fluffy socks, sweaters, anything to keep the shivery cold away! And when tiny, you knooow all he wants is to be bundled up in a thick quilt and sit by the fire with Stede (who is more accustomed to cooler weather so he knows alll the tricks to make sure his little squid doesn't become an icicles!!)
Oh goodness, getting sick on top of the cold weather?? Ed is basically resigned back to an itty bitty baby who needs lots of love and cars to help him feel better! Lots of hankies and warm soup for him ;w;
Of course there can be some fun in the cold! Namely, getting to finger paint on the windows from the cold condensation and watching the lil water dropplets streak down the drawings- Ed does like that part!♡
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Hold tight / the stool
There was a stool, standing in one corner, in the dust. ("Don't place anything out of the ordinary on the field. They are easily scared.")
We lead them in, one by one. ("Keep your distance. Hold your index finger between each rein. Be confident. Hold tight. He goes where you look.")
I am alone. The boy behind me doesn't want to speak to me. He is a head and a half shorter than me, skinny, and younger, too. The only boy in class. He has his mother with him. ("He's a champion. Being so good at this despite his size.")
I tighten the cinch. You stomp and sway. You don't like it. But I don't want to fall off. ("Tighten slowly. A few holds at a time. Not too tightly. You should be able to fit your fingers in between.") I try not to look up. Someone else has already mounted.
"Excuse me. Hey. Sorry, yeah, can you hold him for me? Just for a second. Oh. Thanks. Thank you." She's done this for me before. I can't tell if her smile is genuine. ("Never drop the reins. Let someone else hold him for you.")
I wonder if anybody's watching me struggle. You're so tall compared to me. I am so tall compared to them. The little girls. "You're so brave for controlling such a large animal when you're so little," they tell them. ("There's no weight requirement. Your legs should not reach below his stomach. That is the only rule.")
I go and get the stool. It hits my leg with every step I take on the way back. ("Don't run. They are easily scared, and they weigh half a tonne.") I hate the stool more than anything else in the world.
She smiles at me again. She knows my parents don't have the time to come here. It's genuine. It's full of of pity. ("Reins in one hand. Hold tight. Tip of your foot in one stirrup. One, two, three.")
It's cold here. She hands me the crop. I thank her. I want to crawl out of my own skin.
You move beneath me, worried. Your breath turns to mist in the frigid air. I pat your neck. You are warm even through the saddle. ("Be confident. They are herd animals. They feel what you feel.") I wonder how long your back will continue to support me.
We ride out. ("Right to left. Left lap. Even out the distance. Look up. Look around. Push out the corners. Lead with your feet. Heels down and in. Balance. Elbows in. Hands up. Stop holding onto the saddle.")
You are impatient today. Orange like fire. Coat colors are never called what they're supposed to. I trust you with everything I've got.
"It's amazing how much he likes you. He hates almost everyone else. He kicks the walls at night. It's just like in a movie." ("He used to be for jumping. Now he gets too excited. That's why you're not allowed to it with him.")
I don't come to the group activities. I stay home during the competitions. I look myself in the mirror every Friday. All dressed up, for safety. The clothes look so good on them. I feel like an idiot. I take up too much space. ("Wear your helmet. It could save your life.") I pull my hoodie back on and fall asleep on the train home.
I come out. My mom is hysterical and cries for a week. The only boy in my class quits. I don't dare tell the others that we still aren't an all girls class. ("Don't act out. Yelling and other loud noises ar prohibited at the stables.")
I quit one winter. I never see you again.
I miss you. I cry and cry about it but can't bring myself to re-enter. I'm so tired these days. I am fourteen, and the world is ending. I wonder if you're dead yet. ("Most horses retire after they reach 20. He's very spry for his age.")
I see the little girls become older and post their mothers' recordings online. They stop wearing vests and tuck their sweaters into the lining of their pants. They clear jumps almost two meters high and buy their own stables. ("Keep it straight. Stand up when going over. Do not gallop yet. Keep your balance. Stay upright. Hold tight.")
I miss you so much it hurts. I try again. A two day course, somewhere else. Without you. ("You're crossing the reins. Who taught you that? You're doing it wrong. Why are you always asking for the time? It's like you want to leave or something. We don't have stools here. Can't you get on by yourself?") The horses here are sturdy and fluffy, and the yard is filled with mud. It's two days before new year's eve.
I make one last attempt to see you again and they tell me I'm not allowed inside.
I give up again.
#story about not being able to lift your own weight and needing a stool to get on a horse#life does go#bbugseye taps#riding#writing#fatphobia
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Fluff Propmts List [1]
Here is A list of Fluff Propmts! I update this, so if somthings not here, you can always dm me or recommend me add some things!
Action(s)
Early morning walks while it's still cold outside
Afternoon naps
Sitting in the porch at night
Ice cream
Watching fireflies Together
Lemonade on a hot day
Sprawled out on the floor infront of the fan when its too hot
Bare feet
Eating outside
Watching the sun rise/sun set Together
Chilly summer evening
Going swimming
Going swimming at Dusk/Dawn
Going Skinny dipping
Camp Fire Things
Cuddling while watching movies
Receiving Unfamiliar Affection
Cooking with Somone who has no idea How to cook
Sharing the same bed for the first time
Saying "I love you for the first time"
Finding out Love languages
First Date
Sleepy Reader
Cuddling by the fire
Quote prompts
"You're hair is really soft after you wash it You know."
"Ssh, Stop fussing. I'm just braided you're hair."
"You smell really nice"
"You have a pretty smile"
"Would it be alright if I borrowed you're sweater? It smells like you..."
"I may have slept with you're robe when you weren't here..."
"If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."
"We can just share a blanket..."
"You're comfy"
"You are my new pillow"
"You are very endearing when you're half asleep"
"But I want to hear you sing"
"Can you sing a song for me? My favorite one?"
"We can talk over dinner"
"Don't be stubborn. Try it!"
"Will you let me rub you're back?"
"Care to give me a back scratch?"
"Star-gazing was a good idea..."
"Would you...maybe wanna go star gazing with me..?"
"You look beautiful/Handsome in the moon light..."
"I'll always be here for you"
"I'll be here to protect you."
"I think I'm in love with you"
"How about somthing warm? It'll help you sleep"
"It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway"
"Don't be silly, I'd rather stay up with you."
"It's not morning yet"
"Shush go back to bed"
"I heard you talking in your sleep"
"We can do chores together"
"How about a kiss?"
"I love you're hugs."
Person A & Person B
Person A falling asleep on Person B, and Person B needs to go do something but doesn't wanna Wake Person A
Person A falling asleep in the Car ride home and Person B carries them Into the house
Person A and Person B share a bed, But person B is cold because Perso. A keeps stealing all the blanket
Person A can't sleep so Person B Songs them a Lullaby to help them sleep
Person A has a Nightmare and aperson B comforts Them
Person A and B share a bed and Person A is scared of the Dark So person B comforts them
Person A falls off of the Bunk bed onto Person B trying too go use the bathroom
Person A Falls asleep over persons B house and When A wakes up they see that Person B covered them In a blanket and made them Breakfast
Person a changes Person B after they fell asleep in thier Pajamas
Person A teaches Person B how to Cook
Remeber, I update this. So if you have somthing I should put on here, Tell me! Also please specify Deatils when you request, it makes it easier for me to write! Love you all <33
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