Tumgik
#better late than ever as they say [dies]
adelheidvonschicksal · 3 months
Text
The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆。°✩
Tumblr media
Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.
“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.
There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.
“I wanted to finish this report for work.”
“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”
Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”
“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”
“Ruined?”
“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”
Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”
His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.
“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.
“It is.”
“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.
“Yes.”
Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Sleep.”
“But—”
“Sleep.”
Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.
“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.
“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”
“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Very.”
Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.
“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”
“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.
“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”
It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.
“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.
“Huh?”
“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.
“And Serotonin.”
Another kiss, lower.
“Oxytocin.”
He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.
“Reduced cortisol.”
Flustered, you grip his arms.
“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.
His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,
“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”
You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”
Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”
And by those things, you mean his dramatics.
“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”
Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”
He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”
Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.
“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”
“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”
Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.
Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”
“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”
Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
7K notes · View notes
koirion · 1 year
Text
.
0 notes
kirbyskisses · 11 months
Text
miguel o’hara x reader || “te amo” (masterlist)
the first night miguel is in your universe fills him with all sorts of conflicting emotions.
wc: 1,063
cw: an angsty line or two, light mention of blood. (minors/ageless blogs don’t interact)
Tumblr media
when miguel quite literally inserts himself into your life he‘s not always sure what to do or what to say.
yes, he’s watched your miguel; he’s seen all his similarities and all the intricacies of this earth and memorized them through screens and study but he hadn’t plotted or planned to be here.
this earth’s miguel died. he saw an opportunity and he took it. a spur of the moment decision to pursue this happier life.
it should be easy.
just be miguel o’hara.
but when he first comes through the door of his house so early in the morning that the outside is covered in darkness, being “miguel o’hara” is the hardest thing in the world.
this is not his home. its layout is similar, but it’s filled with a love he’s never had before.
the fridge is decorated with baby photos and newspaper clippings of spider-man, a suit identical to his own. love permeates through every inch of the place.
it permeates through pictures of a precious baby girl who couldn’t be more than a few months. the daughter of the other miguel. the one he gets to father.
and you - the wife. his wife. the most beautiful woman in the world.
the woman who doesn’t know that her real husband is dead and replaced. the one rushing towards him before he can even process any guilt of what being that replacement might mean.
“¡míguel! do you have any idea what time it is?!”
he does.
he knows it’s 3am and that you were like likely waiting up for your husband - for the miguel o’hara of this earth to come back. he knows all to well that the bloodied, beaten miguel he walked by never will come back - there’s only him for you to chastise for worrying you so badly.
and he knows this is the moment where it is too late to turn back, too late to leave to his own nueva york because how could he? it would be unbearable to leave you alone with your sweet little girl to wake up in the morning in a world with no husband, no father and no spider-man.
he’ll take the anger and worry of coming home late if he can prevent that.
it’s better for the both of you.
it’s better that he’s your miguel o’hara now. it’s better that you’re his wife now.
it’s better this way, he convinces himself.
“we made a deal, papí!” you huff, all too ready to reprimand him. “tonight was your night to put her down! we said no web-slinging unless there was a total emergency…”
you trail off, eyes meeting his. they look relieved and tired and overwhelmed for a reason you can’t configure. your voice immediately softens once you realize your words, be they english or spanish, have no way of getting through.
“¿míguel…?”
he doesn’t respond, and when you put your hand on his grizzled cheek he sinks into your touch wordlessly as if it is the first time he has ever felt such romantic softness.
“qué te pasa, papí?” you stroke his face, taking a long look at him. “there…was an emergency, wasn’t there? you know you can tell me anything - ay!!”
you let out a yelp of surprise as he pulls you into him, leaning down to smell your hair and squeeze your small form tight - he wants to memorize everything. all the sensory details that he couldn’t get through lyla or a screen.
he mumbles, gruffly. “we lost a good one today… couldn’t save him. i’m sorry…”
and you whisper his name and hold tight, unaware of what he really means because how could you be? but he doesn’t feel any remorse for deceiving you - for letting you think he means some good natured cop.
after all, so many spider-men have lost one before. how is this any different?
how could he feel remorse when you hum in sympathy and kiss up and down his face? your lips are so soft and reassuring, as is your voice.
“it wasn’t your fault, papí. even spider-man can’t save everyone. i’m just happy you’re home safe and alive.”
that almost breaks him and his hold gets tighter. your fingers are in his hair - your breath calm and unsuspecting. he could get used to this.
finally, after a hold that seems to lasts an eternity, your voice rings out and breaks the two of you apart.
“estás herido, mi amor? there’s blood on your suit…”
“no. i-it’s… not mine.” he’s both lying and telling the truth. it isn’t his blood, it’s that of the miguel left behind. but right now and forever, they’re the same.
“i’ll wash up. get some sleep, querida.” he takes your hand from his cheek and kisses your knuckles - relishing in your touch before letting you go off to bed.
“i’m sorry for making you wait so long for me.” he barely manages to whisper out and you give this gentle smile and coo, arms around his neck.
“you don’t have to apologize for saving people, miguel. it’s what you do and it’s why i love you.”
for being a man so much bigger than you, he seems small and soft. he melts at the proclamation and puts his forehead to yours, desperate to hear it all again.
“dime de nuevo.” tell me again. he needs to hear it again - that he’s loved. that he’s celebrated by someone as kind as you.
all his anxiety melts when your soft lips slot against his once. “te amo, míguel.”
then twice. “te amo, spiderman.”
and then a third time. “i love every part of you. good and bad. the one who saves people, the one who looks out for others, the one with secrets, the one who fails sometimes and has to come home late because he’s doing what he thinks is right. sharp teeth, webs, scars and all, entiendes?”
and for the first time he kisses you - because this means you love him. every version of him including the one he is now.
“eres una bendición.” he murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. you’re a blessing. because only a blessing could have given him the opportunity for something as amazing as a beautiful you and your daughter.
if only he could have found a way to make it last forever.
3K notes · View notes
kentopedia · 1 year
Text
fresh air
Tumblr media Tumblr media
FEATURING. levi ackerman x f!reader — wc: 4.5 k
SUMMARY. everyone on levi's squad wonders where he disappears to when they get time off in wall sina.
CONTENTS. fluff, secret relationship, the scout find out levi is in love, doctor!reader, established relationship, levi gets a minor injury, canon universe, she/they pronouns for hange, no warnings bc this is all just very sweet
based on this ask here ♡
Tumblr media
The first time that Levi met you, he’d been too rough around the edges, a newly freed man from the underground with one too many health issues and a sickly complexion.
Against his will, Erwin had sent him in for a medical examination, a requirement he’d been forced to endure before officially joining the Survey Corps. It seemed a life with minimal sunlight had lasting effects on the human body. Levi thought that was a reasonable assumption.
He’d suffered through the check-ups, holding his tongue when the doctors prodded at him with invasive hands and told him what nutrients he needed more of. He’d taken their advice, for the most part.
You were still a nurse back then, holding a strong desire to help people and eyes with an innocence that would never last. When the doctor had been running late one evening, you’d come in to check Levi’s pulse, asked if he had any pain.
He’d stared at you for a moment, and for the first time in his life, fumbled for the right words to say.
Trivial things like beauty had never been important to Levi, but your smile had been the only image in his mind for days.
You’d visited him again for another check-up the next day.
And Levi was, really, perfectly fine. He knew there was nothing seriously wrong with him. Though, you had been so eager to do your job, so happy to help a fragmented man, that he let you take care of him for a week and, ridiculously, pretended that he was in much more pain than he actually was.
A hesitant sort of bond started between you after that. You were still intimidated by his brashness, and he was too afraid of his own feelings to ever let himself accept that he found you enjoyable to be around.
Although, whatever he felt ceased to matter after that. Levi officially became a scout, lost the only two people that cared about him, and hardened even more.
Years passed before he saw you again, and by then, you’d become a doctor, saved more patients than you lost, and built a name for yourself.
Levi saw you much more once he became the Captain of the Survey Corps; soldiers on his squad were always getting injured, and he nearly died on a couple missions.
Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for you. Too quickly and too easily, especially for a man like him who knew better than to care for people.
Still, he figured he was allowed at least one good thing in life, and he’d chosen that to be you. The pretty little doctor who had snuck into his heart.  
“Levi?” Hange was in front of him, snapping a hand in front of his eyes, overly concerned and much too close. “Are you losing more blood? You look pale.” She prodded at him, a humored grin spreading across her mouth. “Someone might think you’ve been living underground.”
Hange laughed loudly and Levi pushed them away, irritated, and worn-out from the mission.
“I’m fine,” he said, though his ribs ached, and he couldn’t deny the pain that lingered in his side. “Just get off of me. You smell foul.”
Hange made a face. “Just plug your nose then.” A slender finger poked at his ribs again, and he recoiled, hissing. “See! You’re not okay.”
Levi’s aggravated response went unheard as Hange called a doctor over, waving their hands dramatically. A scowled embedded even deeper into his features.
“I’m fine, shithead. Stop being dramatic.”
Though his protests didn’t matter much. A man in a white coat came by after Hange’s call, adjusting a spectacle as he tucked parchment under his arm. “Is everything alright?”
“Can you please have the captain checked out? He was injured outside the walls, and I’m not sure our first aid did well at stitching him back up.”
The doctor looked over Levi skeptically, peeling back the wrapping around his middle that had already dried brown with blood. “We’ve got a lot of people in need of assistance. I can try and get a nurse to help you, but—”
“Where’s the other doctor?” Levi knew your name, of course he did, but he was afraid if he said it something would change on his face. “The younger one.” 
“There are other squads that ended up worse off. She’s taking care of them at the moment.” the gray-haired doctor said, looking at his parchment. “I’ll tell her to make her way over here. I don’t know how long it will be.”
Levi could tell what the man was thinking: that he was Captain Levi, and they could afford to lose the other scouts, but they couldn’t afford to lose him. Still, Levi’s wound had been treated sufficiently. At the very least, he didn’t feel like he would pass out again any time soon.
“I can wait.” Levi looked at the other battered members of the Scouts, some of them with slices up their arms and deep gashes in their skulls. It was a sickening sight really. No one should’ve been worried about him. “These soldiers have worse injuries than I do. You should treat them first.” He glanced at Hange beside him, the glasses making their eyes look even rounder. “And take Hange while you’re at it. Maybe you can find out if there’s a cure for being an idiot.”
The doctor cracked a smile. “Come with me then, Section Commander. You seem to be free of injuries, and we need some help taking care of these soldiers.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll do everything I can.” Hange nodded and stood to follow the doctor. She sent Levi one last look before leaving. “Don’t let your wound get infected because you’re trying to play the hero.”
“I’m fine, Hange. Seriously.” He blinked at her, his expression blank, and Hange sighed before disappearing into the crowd, into the mess of carnage from another fruitless journey outside the walls.
Levi waited for a half hour, watched as more soldiers were led away from the central room into the private wing of the hospital. Someone had cracked a window, and a warm breeze of fresh air fanned into the anteroom.
It was starting to get hot again. He dreaded the summer missions that burned his skin.
The chair was stiff, but he could’ve dozed off in it, suddenly feeling more light-headed than he had when Hange left. Levi shifted, bringing a palm down to his wound. The pain was starting to get worse again. When he drew his hand away, there was more blood.
Shit. That wasn’t a good sign. The stitches mustn’t have been done properly.
He started to stand, beginning to wonder if he should just stitch the wound back up himself, when you finally approached, and the sight of you sent a wave of relief over him. You were like his very own guardian angel, illuminating the hospital with nothing more than a hopeful smile.
Immediately, Levi softened, wondering how you could get more and more beautiful every time he saw you.
“Captain Levi.” Your eyes dropped to the seeping bandage, the shoulder that wasn’t sitting right. He’d dislocated it, twisted a little too funny when slicing up a titan. The tissue there had probably worn down too much. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for me.”
“My injuries are minimal. Thought I’d take my chances until someone competent could stitch me up properly.”
Your jaw clenched, and though you reached your hand out to him, you retracted it, remembering there were other people around. With a sigh, you pointed over your shoulder instead. “Come with me.”
Levi followed you down the hall, to a shimmering white room that smelled too much like flowers. You gathered a few supplies, and he watched you, taking a seat on the bed.
Without a word, you began unwrapping the bloody gauze, cleaning the dark wound with unfazed, sharp eyes. His chest was exposed to you, the shirt already removed.
“At least tell me you missed me before you get me undressed,” Levi said, his tone dry as you pressed a warm cloth to his skin.
You narrowed your eyes, your expression exhausted. He was certain you’d been working nonstop since the Survey Corps got back. “I did miss you, Levi,” you said quietly, wringing the blood out of the cloth. “I always miss you.”
Against his will, Levi’s heart panged in his chest. It was almost too easy for you to get a rise out of him.
You worked in silence, and Levi let you—you’d done this many times for him before, and he knew how much you hated being disturbed.
Though, you looked so sweet with your lip jutted out in focus, and he relaxed, unable to stop himself when he leaned forward to give you a kiss.
To Levi’s disappointment, you saw him coming and pushed him away, placing a bloody hand in front of your mouth to stop him. “Levi!” you shouted in exasperation, though you were far too used to him to be surprised. “I’m not done.”
He sighed, leaning back once more, though the smallest of smiles was on his lips. “I thought you were the best doctor in the interior,” he said mockingly. “Shouldn’t you be a little faster than this?”
“You should work on being more patient. It’s only been a few minutes.”
“Has it?” Levi snorted. It felt like an eternity. You were there in front of him, so lovely and focused, and he could hardly contain himself. He’d spent weeks away from you, and he couldn’t even sneak a quick kiss.
You laughed, the sound stirring up butterflies in his stomach, and he relented, the seriousness in your expression pulling him back to reality. He sat quietly and left you to do your work.
Your hands were soft against his skin as you sealed up the wound, fixed up the stitches, so gentle that he almost forgot about the pain entirely. Having you to watch certainly helped keep him distracted.
Finally, you stepped away, satisfied, and grinned. “Alright. All done.”
“You mean it?” Levi leaned forward, and the ache in his abdomen pinched. “You’re not going to wipe your disgusting palm on my face if I try to kiss you?”
A part of him was, completely serious, but another laugh escaped you as you wiped your hands on a clean rag, the blood still staining your palms. But it was his blood and Levi figured if it had already dirtied his own skin, it didn’t matter much. 
He kissed you, momentarily, and the feeling of your lips brought him entirely back to life. Levi wasn’t sure what about you changed him so completely, made him feel a jolt of energy zap into him every time you were around, but he was addicted to it.
He took a breath, for a moment, his expression gentle, though he didn’t have the opportunity to kiss you again. The door had been thrown open, slamming against the wall, and Hange strolled in, wearing a wide smile and bright eyes.
“Levi,” Hange said, much too loudly, and he recoiled, wondering if they’d seen him kiss you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Probably not then. Hange would have made that the first topic of conversation.
You smiled politely beside Levi, already placing a professional distance between you. He craved the warmth, missing you again already. “How are you, Hange? I take it you didn’t get too banged up on the mission?”
Hange laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder like old friends. “Not a single scratch.”
“A miracle, really, with the way you’re always throwing yourself into danger.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. I always play it safe.” Hange turned back to Levi; lips pulled up to reveal a white grin. “I see you’re feeling better then. The doctor got you all patched up?”
“I always do,” you hid a smile behind your hand, careful not to touch it to your mouth.
Levi sighed, hating how well you two got along. He might as well have told Hange about your relationship in the very beginning. You two saw each other every time the Scouts were in the interior wall. “Didn’t you have something to tell me, Hange?”
Hange scrunched her face up, before recognition passed through it. “Right,” they said, straightening. “Erwin’s requested your presence in a meeting with Commander Pyxis and the Military Police. They’ve got a lot of questions.”
“I’m sure they do.” Levi struggled to his feet, feeling much older than he really was. He wondered when all of the hits to his body would start to catch up to him. “I’ll follow you out, then.”
Levi exchanged a look with you, conveying everything he couldn’t with Hange standing there.
“I’ll see you later then, Captain Levi. Hange.” Your smile was refined, corresponding to your current status, and you saluted like a good soldier would. Then, the two of them were off.
Hange tossed a grin over their shoulder once the two of them were outside the hospital, eyes crinkling behind thick lenses. “You look a little flushed there, Captain.”
Levi stared back at Hange indifferently, not an ounce of emotion in his cool eyes. Hange always teased him when it came to you, but he doubted she ever figured out the truth. “Is that so?”
“Why don’t you just confess your love already?” Hange said romantically, batting their eyes and holding clasped hands to her chin. “It’s been years Levi.”
“I’m sure you’re not insinuating I’ve got any sort of romantic feelings,” Levi said dryly. He was certain that he had not been blushing, and he pinched Hange’s cheek too, the pink tint there as well from the warm weather. “It’s not like it’s nearly summer.”
Hange swatted him away, their joyful expression falling as a pout formed on their lips. “Oh, you’re so boring, Levi. I’m only messing with you.”
Levi let out a weary noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, wondering how he’d managed to put up with the most insufferable person for years and years on end. “You sound like a teenager.”
Tumblr media
After his mess of a meeting with the military police, Levi headed to one of the nicer homes at the edge of the city, an older building in Wall Sina that had managed to stay intact after the Female Titan incident.
It wasn’t his home, not really, but it was the only one he had outside of the military housing and the single private room he received as a commanding officer. And, it might as well have been his anyway—his clothes all hung in the closet, his teacups stuffed in a crowded cabinet. He was there more than he was anywhere else.
The door opened easily when he pushed the knob, and while he knew you were expecting him, he hoped you didn’t always keep it unlocked. The streets were too wrought with crime; a fact he was far too aware of.
When he opened the door, the scent of home and a freshly made meal invaded his senses, warming him to the very core of his soul. He slid his shoes off at the door, careful not to track in any mud.
You hadn’t heard him come in, too busy cutting up vegetables to throw into a pot. You hummed to yourself softly, distracted entirely by your own thoughts.
Levi smiled, admiring you for just a moment and taking in that second to carry it with him on his next mission. For so much of his life, he’d hardly had a home to come back to. It was nice to remember that he had a person waiting for him on the other side, someone that could be there for him in the moments that he didn’t want to be alone.
He snuck up behind you quietly, and you remained completely unaware until he wrapped his arms around your middle, relaxing into your body in a way he’d never been able to when he was away from you.
You jumped momentarily, but eased into his arms right after, recognizing his touch easily. One of your softer hands wrapped around his, the other still throwing chopped vegetables into the pot.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” yod, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, tranquil.
So much of his time had been spent in a world that was a living hell, trying to deal with the overarching mess that had started years ago, and being with you was the only time he could ever recover. The knowledge that he didn’t have to always be humanity’s strongest soldier with you gave him, at least, some semblance of peace.
“I hope I didn’t scare you,” he whispered, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he looked at the stew you were making. It was the best thing he had smelled in weeks, and Levi felt too spoiled after a childhood spent eating mud and garbage from the streets. “You could’ve waited for me to get home. I would’ve cooked something instead. I know you’ve been working all day, taking care of the Scouts.”
“Levi.” You pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, smiling into the delicate skin. “You’ve been gone for weeks. You probably haven’t had a proper meal since you left, and you were injured. I don’t want you to strain yourself.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re home. You can get some rest now.”
You pressed a kissed to his nose, and no matter how many times you referred to your home as his as well, a fiery warmth bloomed inside of him.
“Me too.” Levi smiled at you tiredly, brushing his thumb over your lips before retracting. “I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“I’ll tell you when the food is ready.”
Levi nodded, and released you hesitantly, already wanting to be around you for every moment he had in Wall Sina. Instead, he headed towards the bathroom, where he knew the soap that he preferred would be waiting for him, just as he’d left it before.
“Levi?”
He turned at the sound of your voice. You were watching him with hearts in your eyes, the very expression something he would probably never been accustomed to.
“I love you.”
Levi softened, his feet melting into the floor entirely. “I love you too.”
Your face grew so bright, and you turned back to your task, newly invigorated. Levi had gotten better at saying the words, at accepting that you wouldn’t get taken away from him just because he cared about you.
It had been a long road, certainly, but somewhere along the way he’d started to become familiar with happiness.
Tumblr media
“Levi, what do you think of this one?” You spun in a slow circle, making sure that he saw every angle of the dress. You were watching him with a skeptical look, suspecting that he wouldn’t be honest with you.
Which was maybe true. Levi didn’t know very much about what was in style. He just thought you looked nice in everything.
“It’s pretty,” he said, indulging you with a nod. “You look very pretty.”
Despite yourself, you grew warm, smiling at yet another compliment from him. He’d said the same thing about every dress, but he loved seeing the expression on your face, the twitch of embarrassment, even though you’d been together for years.
It was rare that the two of you got to do something so calming. You were meant to go to a ball in the upcoming weeks, gain some kind of recognition for your accomplishments as a doctor, and you were in desperate need something to wear.
Of course, you’d decided the moment that Levi was home would be the perfect time to go shopping.
Though, it didn’t matter. He would’ve gone with you anyway, even if you needed an outfit or not. Levi was just so incredibly proud of you. A part of him wished he could accompany you to the ball, even if being in a stuffy room with a crowd of pretentious, wealthy men sounded like the most undesirable event in the world.
“Well, which makes me seem like I know what I’m doing?” you asked him through the mirror, the tailor doing her best not to intrude on the conversation. “I like the blue one, but do I look too young?”
“Well, you’re not old,” Levi scoffed. “Besides, I hardly think you need new a dress to let people know you’re a professional.” Though, he mulled over the question regardless, mostly taking your inquiry seriously. You were making a face at him. “I like the blue one too.”
He liked them all, really. 
You smiled, letting the tailor finish up her job and Levi turned, wondering how much of a dent this would put in his wallet.
“I’ll just be a second,” you said, leaning down from your stool to kiss him. His lips curled up when they met yours. “Want to wait outside?”
“Sure.” Levi turned, and for a moment, swore he saw a flash outside, someone speeding past the window. When he looked closer, no one was there.
He ignored it, leaving a wad of cash with the store-owned and tried to remember that he no longer needed to save that money for another meal.
As he waited for you to finish up, Levi leaned against the wall, watching the people walk back and forth, paying him no attention at all. It was sometimes easy to forget that not everyone recognized him. Not everyone cared, really, that he was Captain Levi.
It was refreshing to be ignored.
“Levi,” you said wearily as you came out of the short building, and he knew what was coming next, knew what words would leave your mouth. “I told you I’d take care of it.”
“Consider it paying back a favor.” He fell into step beside you as you turned the corner, going down the narrow alley. 
You creased your eyebrows skeptically, trying to catch his eyes. The ones that had brightened minimally after a night of rest in an actual bed. “A favor for what?”
“I don’t know. Letting me live in your house? For cooking for me last night?” Your frown deepened, exasperated and Levi sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just accept the gift, you idiot. I was trying to do something nice.”
You gazed at him in disbelief for another moment before laughing, the seriousness evaporating. “You’re so sweet.” You grinned, and Levi thought that was hardly the word to describe him, but you seemed so happy that he didn’t say anything. “I appreciate it a lot. Thank you.”
“Come on,” Levi said, huffing when you tried to kiss him again. “We should go back home before I run into one of those intolerable brats from my squad.”
Though, Levi really regretted the words, wondering if there was some higher being out there who just lived to cause him grief. Not a moment later, he heard a familiar voice rounding the corner, getting much too close to where he was standing.
“Armin, look! I told you. I saw him with someone.”
Levi’s jaw tightened as Eren sprinted down the alley with his smarter blond friend in tow, and a dark-haired girl who never seemed to leave his side.
The three of them nearly ran into the two of you, skidding to a stop only when they noticed you both turning the corner, and gauged the unamused expression on Levi’s face.
“What are you two doing here? Don’t you have training or something?” Levi’s voice was stern, though he knew they had the day off, just as he did. Just as you did.
“Captain Levi!” Armin straightened, looking nervous under his tense gaze. Levi wondered what it would take for that kid to gain some confidence. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to intrude. Eren just said—”
“Eren said—” Eren began, but before he could continue, Hange had also come around the corner with Erwin, the two of them laughing like they’d found something very funny.
Levi wished he had his gear so he could start swinging the blades at all of them.
“Levi,” Erwin greeted him good-naturedly, and Hange was snickering beside him, their eyes glued to the minimal space between you and him. “Eren said there was an emergency this way. What seems to be the issue?”
That little shit. Levi could’ve kicked the stupid grin right off his face again.
“Did he?” Levi said, swallowing down his anger, his expression as nonchalant as usual. “I’ve got no idea what he could possibly be talking about.”
“Eren said you two were kissing.” Mikasa spared no time for idle conversation, her eyes as hard as his own as she made the comment in a bored tone. If Levi had to guess, she’d been pulled into the situation because Eren had caught them and couldn’t keep his nose out of other people’s business.  
And Hange, who had never been very good at holding back laughter, doubled over with tears gathering at the corners of their eyes.
“Oh,” you said beside him, embarrassed, and Levi softened, remembering that even though he’d kept the relationship a secret for your own safety, there really had never been a need to. You were never going to leave his life, not if he could help it, and he trusted the five people before him enough to keep it from becoming public knowledge. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, momentarily panicked. “That was my fault.”
Levi hated the look on your face; he never wanted you to look so disheartened again. He sighed. “Eren, you should learn to keep your mouth shut.”
At least, Eren had the good sense to sober up. His back became rigid, any humor disappearing from his face immediately. “Right, sir, I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“I’ve got the day off like the rest of you, don’t I? Maybe you should let us spend it in peace.” Levi boldly grabbed your hand, walking through the middle of the starstruck crowd, knowing he’d have to deal with their endless questions sooner than later.
For now, though, he just wanted a relaxing day with you by his side.
“Levi, wait! Why didn’t you tell me?” Hange’s dramatic cries rang out through the air as he glared at them over his shoulder, eyes narrowing so intensely it almost hurt.
Behind him, Eren’s cry of pain could be heard after Mikasa slapped him over the head. “Eren! I told you that was a bad idea.”
“Bye!” you said sweetly, like nothing had happened, and continued along with your hand in Levi’s, a stupid smile on your face.
When you were far enough away from lingering ears, Levi looked over to you, shaking his head. “Why do you look so happy?” he asked, exasperated, and ready to go home.
You shrugged. “I like that someone else knows that I love you.”
And though Levi would still push Eren twice as hard at the next training, he couldn’t be too mad at him after that.
6K notes · View notes
punkshort · 2 months
Text
i know who you are | 3. the accident
Tumblr media
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You and Joel spend some time getting to know each other, but during dinner with Tommy and Maria, the truth comes out about your accident.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, mild description of head wound/stitches, flirting, clickers, violence and some descriptions of injuries/blood
WC: 10.4K
Series Masterlist
Two Weeks Later
"This place is a lot bigger than I thought. I feel like I see someone new every day."
"Well, your brain did a factory reset, so you kind of are seeing new people every day," Ellie joked at breakfast one morning. Joel had been scheduled on early morning patrol shifts lately, so it was just the two of you before Ellie's classes started. You felt bad, but you grew to enjoy these mornings with just her. She was easy to get along with and she didn't pester you constantly about your memory loss. It was like she just accepted it for what it was and moved on. Joel, on the other hand, was a different story.
"What are you doing today?" she asked, pushing away her bowl of oatmeal.
"I have to go get these stitches removed," you said, your fingers coming up to brush across your injured scalp. "Couldn't come any sooner. They are so itchy."
She hummed and crossed her arms. "Surprised Joel didn't wanna come with you. He's been hovering over you non-stop."
"Yeah, tell me about it," you muttered. When you caught the playful glean in her eye, you backtracked. "Not that I don't appreciate everything he's done for me, it's just..." you trailed off, trying to find the right words.
"It's just a lot?" she offered, and you nodded, relieved that she understood.
"I didn't exactly tell him, either," you said, dropping your gaze to pick at your cuticle in shame. "Every time I go to the clinic, he scares the shit out of that poor doctor."
She laughed softly and stretched her arms out behind her head. "Joel does that to people. He comes off like a pitbull but in reality? He's just a golden retriever."
A slow smile stretched across your face as you absorbed her words, then burst out laughing.
"That is-" you began, cutting yourself off with another laugh, "the most accurate description I could ever possibly think of."
"I've known him for a long time, what can I say?" she said with a grin while throwing her hands up in the air.
Your laughter died down as you stared at the table, lost in thought. Glancing up at Ellie, you decided to see what else she might shed some light on.
"Do you know of a Ben and Lisa?"
She froze and looked at you quizzically for a moment before dropping her hands back down onto the table.
"Yeah, do you remember them?"
"No, no," you said quickly, waving her off. "I kept a journal. Y'know, from before. And I was reading it the other day and I mentioned them. Are they around?"
Ellie glanced around the somewhat crowded room before meeting your eyes again. "No, not today. They don't really come out much," she said, examining you carefully. "They have a small house on the outskirts of town. They are... homebodies, I guess? I think they've been in here, like, twice, since you guys arrived."
"So, they came here with me?" you confirmed, and she nodded.
"Yeah, the three of you arrived together," she said. Her eyes glanced up and saw a few classmates heading out the front door. "I better go, school's starting soon," she said, pushing her chair back and grabbing her backpack.
"Yeah, okay," you said, sitting back in your chair. "Thanks, Ellie," you called after her, and she shot you a quick wave before running to catch up with her friends.
You wished you had more time to ask her about Ben and Lisa. Were they together? Were they siblings? Friends? How did you meet them? What did they know about your past?
The questions were piling up as you let your mind wander. You didn't even realize Maria, Tommy's wife, had approached your table until she said your name for the second time.
"Sorry," you told her, shaking your head.
She smiled and pulled out a chair, joining you at your now empty table. "Don't worry about it. I wanted to check on you. How have you been feeling?"
"Better," you said honestly. "I haven't needed the Tylenol really, so I'm going to bring the rest back to Nick this morning."
"That's fantastic," she said, leaning forward. She regarded you quietly for a moment before speaking again. "Any luck on your memories?"
You sighed and shook your head. It was inevitable - everyone eventually asked you the same question, either morbid curiosity or genuine concern encouraging them. And you tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But you couldn't help but feel like a failure every time when the answer was no.
And then Maria asked the next question everybody always asked.
"How's Joel handling everything?"
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Of course this was hard for him. It was hard for you, too, just in a different way.
"Alright, I guess."
"Are you two getting along? I know Tommy mentioned you were nervous-"
"Yeah," you said, cutting her off. "It was a little weird at first but it's not so bad now." You glanced around the dining hall, which was mostly empty. "Can you tell me a little bit about him? About us? I would ask Joel, but any time he tells me about some memory, I can see it hurts him. And I just can't stand to see that look in his eye again."
Maria gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your hand. "I get it. It must be hard, I'm so sorry," she said, and you could feel the tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes.
"I just feel like I'm always letting him down," you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"You're not. Hey, look at me," she said, forcing you to drag your eyes up to meet hers. "You're not letting him down. He loves you. You have no idea how much. That man has been head over heels since the moment you met. He'd do anything for you-"
"I know, and that's what makes this so much worse!" you exclaimed. "I'm sitting around that house all day - our house - waiting for my brain to fucking work and give him the person he's waiting for and I just can't! I can't-" you slammed your palms flat on the table. "I can't fucking-" you buried your face in your hands as you tried to conceal your tears. Maria rubbed soothing circles on your back, giving you time to collect yourself.
"Sounds to me like you're going a little stir-crazy."
You dragged a shaky breath in and nodded, letting your hands fall to your lap.
"What if we got you assigned some work around town? Something light, nothing too strenuous. Would that help?" she asked softly, and your pulse began to return to normal.
"Yeah, I think that would be nice," you said, flashing her a small smile.
"Your choice, then," she said, pulling her hand back, "what are you good at or interested in? I figure stables are probably not a good idea. Tommy said you were having trouble riding. Is there anything you'd like to do?"
You pursed your lips and thought for a moment.
"I'm not sure... can I get back to you?" you asked, realizing once again that you knew very little about yourself.
"Of course," Maria said before standing up from her chair. "You know where to find me whenever you think of something. Or if you just want to talk... I'm here, okay?"
You gave her a watery smile before whispering your thanks, then watched her make her way towards the doors. You sighed and looked around, realizing you were the only one left after the breakfast rush, so you pushed yourself to your feet and followed Maria's footsteps. You had a few more hours before Joel was supposed to come back from patrol, so you decided to walk over to the infirmary and get your stitches removed.
The streets of Jackson were mercifully quiet. Most people were working and the kids were in school, so you didn't run into too many folks on your way towards the other end of town. You wrapped your arms around yourself a little tighter. The chill in the air still lingered from overnight, making you shiver. As you walked, you looked around at the buildings like you normally did, trying your hardest to shake loose a memory, or at this point, even a flicker of a moment, but nothing came.
You trudged up the steps to the infirmary and stepped inside, grateful to be back indoors where it was warm. A little bell rang above your head, announcing your presence, and a moment later you heard Nick's footsteps coming down the hallway. When he lifted his head and saw you, his eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for Joel.
"All alone today?" he asked, then motioned for you to follow him.
"Yeah, Joel's busy," you said, and you swore you could see his shoulders relax.
"I know the feeling," he said, standing next to an empty exam room and holding his arm out to his side, inviting you to enter first, so you did. "I've been trying to get around to doing inventory for weeks, but I'm swamped. Can't seem to find a quiet day," he continued as he opened and closed some cabinets. He pulled on a pair of gloves and opened a drawer for some scissors before placing it on a clean washcloth next to the bed and putting his glasses on.
"Oh, speaking of inventory," you said, leaning to the side so you could fish the pills out of your jeans pocket. You held them out to him with a smile. "Didn't need them all."
"Excellent. Thank you," he said, plucking the baggie from your fingers and setting them down on the counter next to the scissors. "Glad they helped. And again, I'm sorry I couldn't offer anything stronger-"
"Don't be sorry, I understand," you said, then tucked your chin into your chest so he could get a good look at the back of your head. He began to carefully snip away at the irritating thread, taking his time to pull each and every piece out without tugging too much on your skin. You noticed aside from the two of you, the office sounded quiet.
"All alone today, too?" you asked.
"Yes, unfortunately," he said with a sigh. "My aide, Monica, got poached from me. They needed someone on patrol since-" he cut himself off and cleared his throat, and you frowned before you realized what he was about to say.
"Since they had to replace me," you finished for him.
"Yes."
Your lips pressed into a thin line as Nick continued to work away at your stitches. Another casualty in the hurricane that your accident seemed to cause.
"Hey, what if I helped you?" you blurted out, and his hands paused.
"You want to be my aide?"
"Sure. Well, do I need any medical knowledge? I don't know much, but I can help you with inventory or cleaning instruments or... whatever else you might need."
You could sense his hesitation without even having to see his face and you knew in an instant he was thinking about Joel.
"Maria approached me this morning about a job. She said it would be good for me and I agreed. But if I'm not qualified, I understand-"
"No, no, it's not that," he said, and you rolled your eyes. Of course not.
"Joel isn't the boss of me," you said after a moment. He stepped backwards and you lifted your head up to look at him.
"He's an intimidating man," Nick said by way of explanation. He snapped his gloves off and tossing them in the trash. "Why don't you run it by him first? As a favor to me?" he added with a half smile. You sighed and nodded before sliding off the bed.
"Sure, I'll talk to him when he gets back," you agreed, following Nick towards the front door. You thanked him before heading back down the street, your fingers gingerly tracing your closed wound before you shoved your hands into your pockets.
How the hell could one man manage to scare half the town the way Joel Miller did? You thought you were beginning to see a glimmer of the man underneath the hardened exterior, but what on earth drew you to him in the first place? What did your past self see in him that made you so enamored? And why couldn't you see it now? You were afraid the answer didn't so much lie with Joel, but with you.
You desperately needed to discover more of the person you were before your accident. Maybe then you would get some more insight.
When you got back to Joel's house, you decided to take what little quiet time you had left and read some more of your journal. As the sun rose in the sky, the day began to heat up a bit, taking away that frigid chill in the air, so you cracked a window in his living room and curled up on a worn out, but very comfortable, arm chair.
You flipped through the pages, your eyes landing on the last entry you read: Joel lied to me.
You never asked him about it. Either you were too afraid of the answer or you were too afraid he wouldn't tell the truth. At first, you tried to convince yourself that it was nothing. That maybe you had just gotten into a fight on that particular day and you were mad. But seeing how sporadically you had updated the journal, you got the feeling you wouldn't have written it unless it was important.
And why wouldn't you have elaborated? What could it have been? Something that was so serious, you didn't want to risk putting it down in writing?
You hadn't realized how long you were staring at those four words until you heard Joel's heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs of the porch. You snapped the book shut and looked up just as he opened the door. His dark eyes found you immediately and, as usual, you saw what you always saw - relief in seeing you again, the joy one had when they saw their other half, the attraction a man has for the one he loves.
Damn him and his expressive eyes.
"Hey," you said with a small smile, "how was patrol?"
"Not too bad," he replied, kicking off his boots. "Quiet. No infected. Me 'n Alex made short work of our route," he said, strolling over to collapse into the couch next to your chair. He rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, his head resting on the back of the couch.
"Tired?"
"Yeah," he said, dropping his hand to his lap and rolling his head in your direction. "Glad I got tomorrow off. Maybe we can do somethin' together."
"Yeah, okay," you agreed. Maybe it would be a good opportunity to learn more about him without directly asking. His eyes drifted down to the journal in your lap and he jutted his chin towards it.
"Read anythin' interesting?"
Looking down at it for a brief moment, you thought about asking him what he lied about, but you ultimately decided against it.
"Yeah, actually," you said, flipping a different page open. "I wrote about a Ben and Lisa. Ellie told me we arrived together and they keep to themselves," you continued, looking up at him. His expression was unreadable. "Maybe I should pay them a visit one of these days. Maybe they can tell me a little about myself before-"
"Yeah, maybe," he said suddenly, then stood up to head towards the kitchen. You frowned, your eyes following him as he filled a glass of water. When he turned back to you, you were still looking at him, waiting for him to say something else.
"Why don't you give it a little time before you go seein' them," he suggested after downing his water in one gulp.
"It's been two weeks," you said quietly, "how much more time should I give it?" He shrugged and strolled back into the living room, leaning against the doorframe.
"What'dya wanna know?" he asked, avoiding your question. "I know you better than anyone. I can answer your questions."
"I didn't know you the whole ten years, though," you reminded him, unfolding your legs from the chair. "It sounds like they knew me longer. I just thought they could tell me how I survived-"
"For what?" he snapped, and his tone took a sudden turn. When you met his gaze again, the warmth was gone, and in its place was a face of stone. "What does that matter?" he asked, his voice rising a little. "You're here, you did what you had to do. We all did. What's the point in rehashin' it?"
"What's the point?" you repeated, bewildered. "The point is so I can learn about myself. So I can figure out the person I became, the person you fell in love with!"
Something flickered across his face for a brief moment before his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.
"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, the edge to his voice now gone. "I'll take you to see 'em one of these days. We'll go together. I haven't seen 'em in a while myself. It'd be good to catch up," he added.
"Okay," you said slowly, "thank you." He took a deep breath and angled his head towards the stairs.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower," he mumbled, and you nodded, your eyes following him up the steps until he disappeared around the corner.
Joel Miller was an incredibly difficult man to figure out. Just when you thought you knew who he was, he did something like that and it made you second guess yourself. You had determined that aggressive side came out when he was protecting the ones he loved. So who was he protecting this time?
Tumblr media
"What'dya wanna do today?" Joel asked you around a mouthful of eggs from across your kitchen table.
"Um, I don't know," you said, pushing your food around on your plate uncomfortably. You thought spending time alone with him was a good idea, but when you woke up that morning, you felt nervous. "Did you have anything in mind?"
He sat back in his chair and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "If you were feelin' up for it, thought I could take you outside the walls a bit. Maybe teach you how to ride again."
You perked up at his suggestion. For some reason, you didn't consider leaving Jackson as an option.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you said with a grin, and his chest warmed at the sight. He missed seeing you smile. Then he remembered something that might make you smile again. He stood up quickly, his chair sliding back across the hardwood floor, and walked over to his backpack, still hanging by the door from yesterday.
"What are you doing?" you called after him, but he didn't reply until he reentered the room with his hands behind his back.
"Forgot I gotcha somethin' when I was out yesterday," he said, trying to bite back his smile. It didn't even occur to him until the last second that you might not like what he was about to give you, that maybe your tastes were different ten years ago, but it was too late now. Nervously, he held out two worn paperback books. You stood up with a curious look on your face and took them in your hands, your eyes running over the covers quickly before turning them over and reading the backs. He shifted his weight as he anxiously waited for your reaction, and when he was rewarded with another huge smile, he couldn't hold his own back.
"These sound great," you told him, glancing at the books again. "I love mysteries, this is..." you met his eyes briefly before shyly looking back down. "This is so thoughtful of you, Joel. Thank you."
He beamed with pride, thrilled that he was able to do something nice for you. "You're welcome, ba- ahem," he coughed, stopping himself from finishing his sentence. You looked back up at him, heat creeping up both of your necks. He cleared his throat and turned around, picking up your plates. "You're welcome," he said again, "thought you might be gettin' bored 'round here."
He rinsed the plates in the sink before heading towards the front door. You put your two books on the counter and trailed after him, the both of you sliding on your boots and jackets. Joel grabbed his backpack before opening the door for you and he followed you down the porch steps.
"Yeah, I'm definitely getting a little bored," you said, eyeing him up as you walked side by side towards the stables. "But speaking of that, I was talking to Maria yesterday and she suggested I get a job." His head swiveled over to you, lips parted in surprise, but before he could speak, you continued. "She said I can pick whatever I want, nothing too strenuous."
He nodded and looked straight ahead again, your words rolling around in his head. "Yeah, suppose that makes sense."
"Good," you said, pleased he was open to the idea. "So when I was at the infirmary yesterday, Nick mentioned-"
"Why were you at the infirmary? Were you in pain? Did you get hurt?"
"Joel, I was fine," you said with a huff. You pointed to the back of your head. "I had my stitches removed."
He stopped in his tracks, which made you skid to a halt. His arms reached out to lift up your hair but at the last second, he held back.
"Can I?" he asked over your shoulder, and you nodded. He gingerly lifted up your hair to take a look at your injury, which felt much better now that the stitches were gone.
"Made showering so much easier," you told him. He hummed and dropped your hair.
"Looks good," he said, and continued walking. "You shoulda waited, I woulda went with you," he added.
"It took ten minutes," you said, waving him off as the stables came into view. "But while I was there, Nick mentioned his aide got reassigned to patrol to fill my old position, so I offered to take her place."
"You wanna work at the infirmary?" he asked, and you shrugged.
"I don't know much, but he said I didn't need to. He just needs help around the office. Cleaning up, taking inventory, maybe help him with some minor procedures. Hand him tools and all that," you said, and Joel nodded slowly.
"Alright," he said, "if that's what you wanna do, sure."
And although you weren't asking for his permission, it felt like you got it, anyway.
As you got closer to the stables, the high pitched whinny of a horse in a nearby paddock caught both your attention. The horse looked smaller - younger - and was attached to a long rope, and in the center of the field holding the other end was a man around Joel's age. Even from a distance, you could see the clench in his jaw and the way his muscles strained to rein in the animal, but he was losing the fight. The horse was too young and too strong and kept pulling away, getting as far away from the man as possible before the lead went taught and the horse was forced to face the man again. Each time it happened, the horse let out a shrill whinny and stomped its hooves in the dirt, expressing its displeasure.
"That's Caleb," Joel said as you both paused to watch. "Must be breakin' in a yearling."
"Breaking in?" you asked, your eyes still glued to the horse, whose head was twisting around angrily, trying to break free.
"It means he's tryin' to tame her so we can ride her," he explained, and you nodded. You both leaned up against the fence and watched the beautiful animal rear up and then dig its hooves deeper into the dirt, dust kicking up into a cloud around them. Caleb was struggling. Sweat was dripping down his face as he tugged on the lead and shouted commands at the horse, but she was having none of it.
The horse's whinnies were becoming louder and more panicked. The whites of her eyes showed when Caleb attempted to get closer, his skin tight over his knuckles from holding onto the rope. Once Caleb got close enough, the horse swung its massive head around in the air then reared back again with all its might, pulling Caleb off his feet unexpectedly with a shout.
"Shit," Joel muttered. He gripped the top rail of the fence and hauled himself over before you could even process what was happening. You watched, eyes wide, as Joel ran into the middle of the field, his arms raised up high over his head to keep the horse from stomping on Caleb.
"Hey! Hey!" you heard Joel's booming voice shout at the animal, drawing her attention off Caleb. The horse charged at Joel, but swerved away at the last second. Joel turned around and gave Caleb a hand, dragging him to his feet before the horse made its way back to where they stood.
"Hey," Joel said, softer this time, but his arms still stretched out in front of him. The horse skidded to a stop a few feet away, snorting and pawing at the dirt, its long tail flicking back and forth. Caleb stood and dusted himself off before taking a few steps backwards to catch his breath, but Joel remained in the same spot. He stared down the animal, the two of them silently sizing the other up. Joel's voice rang out again, just as soft as before. "Hey, shh, girl," he said, relaxing his stance a bit.
You stood cemented to the ground, entranced, as you watched the stand off between man and beast. Joel didn't look scared. He barely even flinched when the horse let out another high pitched squeal. He stood tall and firm, refusing to back down, and patiently waited for the horse to come to him.
He left his arm outstretched as an olive branch, his eyes never leaving the horse. He murmured low, soothing noises until it took a tentative step forward. Joel nodded encouragingly and continued to speak softly, earning him another step.
You felt a stirring low in your stomach as you continued to watch, with your jaw slack and your breaths shallow. Joel finally reached out and grabbed the lead, then ran the flat of his hand slowly up and down the horse's nose, giving it a little scratch between the eyes, and you clenched your thighs together.
After a few minutes of Joel calmingly murmuring to the horse, he handed the rope back to Caleb, who expressed his deepest gratitude before carefully leading the filly back towards the stables. Joel turned back towards you, dusting his hands off as he walked. Your cheeks felt warm by the time he made it to the other side of the fence and climbed over.
"That was..." you trailed off, not sure what to say. He smirked at you as he leaned down to pick his backpack up. "That was really impressive," you finally squeaked out. Unbeknownst to you, he could see right through you. He'd known you for too long and he especially knew what you looked like when you were aroused. He eyed you up and down before nodding towards the stables.
"It's 'bout respect and patience. You get what you give," he explained as he wiped away some sweat that formed on the back of his neck. Your mouth went dry at the sight.
"H-have you done that before?"
"What, break in wild animals?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you nodded. If he didn't already clock the way you were reacting, he wouldn't have said what he said next. "No. Only you."
You choked on your laughter and he grinned.
"I hardly think I can compare to a wild horse," you said, your cheeks on fire.
"You're right. Tamin' you was harder."
"I thought I was the one who confronted you about sneaking around? Which is it?" you teased as you followed him into the barn, the scent of hay and leather and the sound of horses gently snorting in their stalls invading your senses.
"Oh, you did. You just didn't like sneakin' 'round. Took a lot longer to make you fall in love and move in with me," he said. He walked up to a list pinned to a clipboard and scribbled his name inside an empty slot.
"Mm, and you really think you can do it again?" you asked, trying to sound doubtful but your smile gave you away. He glanced down at you, leaning against the wall for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips and cheeks before chuckling.
"Oh, absolutely," he said lowly, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.
"Alright, Casanova. Let's get a move on," you said, rolling your eyes and turning away, but not before he caught the excited glint in your eye.
Tumblr media
Thank god for Joel's backpack.
That was the only thing separating you two as you clung to him from behind as he steered your borrowed horse through the woods. It was peaceful. Serene, even. It was hard to believe so many horrible things happened, and were still happening, in this world when you were surrounded by such beauty. And you might have been able to appreciate it more if you weren't so utterly distracted by your body's reaction to Joel. You couldn't imagine what you would be thinking and feeling if there wasn't a buffer between you. Had you been able to feel each and every strong muscle in his back and shoulders, or the heat rolling off him, or fully commit to memory his very unique and intoxicating scent.
No, luckily you had some distance, and by the time he reached the field he was looking for, you felt like you had regained your senses. You brushed off your earlier reaction to your hormones and nothing more by the time you slid down from the horse and joined Joel on the ground.
"It's so quiet out here," you remarked, looking around and shrugging off your jacket. By now, the sun had risen high enough in the sky to warm everything up around you, the frosty morning air long since melted away. Joel tied the reins of your horse around a tree trunk and took off his own jacket, slinging it over the saddle.
"We used to come out here a lot," was all he said, avoiding your eyes. You looked around again, trying to find something familiar. He could tell what you were doing and he shook his head.
"Don't try to force it, it ain't gonna do any good," he said, and you looked over at him, surprised.
"Sorry. I'm really trying," you said softly, looking down at the dirt. He looked at you sadly, just for a moment when your attention was on your shoes, then forced a smile across his face.
"C'mon, I wanna show you somethin'."
You followed him through the thinning trees towards the open field; the grass waist high as you hiked through it together, cicadas singing all around you as you walked. The sun was growing more powerful, but you weren't uncomfortable.
"This is my favorite time of year," you told him, and he glanced over at you. "It's not too hot, not too cold."
He smiled and looked straight ahead once again. "I know. You like warm days and cold nights."
"That's right," you said, pressing your lips together and wondering if there would ever be anything you could tell him that he didn't already seem to know. "You have a good memory."
"When it comes to you, yeah."
Joel held out an arm to stop you, your face angled towards the ground as you walked so you wouldn't trip. You looked up when you ran into his arm, first at him, and then at the scenery before you.
It was breathtaking. Somehow, without even realizing it, you were on top of a mountain. Or, close to it, anyway. Near the edge, you looked around and saw other hills and valleys surrounding you, green and lush and full of life. A flock of blackbirds swooped by straight ahead, and way down below, between all the jagged rocks, was a little lazy river.
"This is beautiful," you breathed, your eyes glistening. Joel studied your face while you were distracted, his eyes never once looking at the nature surrounding you.
"Yeah, I know," he whispered. You dragged your eyes away from the view and gave him a dazzling smile, one that made his chest ache, before sitting down at the edge of the grass with a sigh.
"Okay. What do you miss most about your life before?" you asked him out of the blue. His stomach lurched, his mind immediately filled with thoughts of a little girl with curly hair and dark brown eyes that once made him finally understand the true meaning of unconditional love.
"Barbeques," he choked out, hoping you didn't pick up on his mood shift.
"Mm, that's a good one," you said dreamily, still staring out over the edge of the cliff. "What was your favorite part?"
He felt himself relax a bit as you forced his mind to shift gears. "The music. The food. Just... lazy weekends, hangin' out with friends or family. Spendin' time with people I cared 'bout."
"What's your favorite barbeque food?" you asked, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards him.
He thought about it for a moment, his daughter's memory drifting back into the recesses of his mind. "Ribs. Or maybe burgers. Tough call," he said with a chuckle. You slapped the side of your leg and turned your whole body towards him excitedly.
"Oh, my god. Speaking of ribs. My brother - Matty - one time he was in an 'all you can eat' ribs competition," you said, a grin already pulling at the corners of your mouth. "He was like, 22 at the time and he could really pack food away. Like, really eat. It scared the shit outta my mom, she had no idea how he did it and still stayed so trim," you said, and Joel chuckled. "Anyway, he entered this contest and all of the other contestants were these, like, huge guys. I'm talking pushing 300 pounds huge, right?" you said, the excitement evident in your voice now as your eyes shone bright, making Joel smile even more. "So, anyway, one by one these guys are dropping like flies and my brother just kept mowing down all these ribs like it was nothing. It was down to him and one other guy and the other guy looked like he was about to tap out. The prize was like, a thousand bucks, and we were all getting so damn excited. He was gonna win!" you said, your voice getting louder the more excited you became. Seeing you that happy for the first time in weeks made Joel's heart feel like it was going to burst, so he played along and urged you on. "Then, Matty freezes. And I'm staring at him. And he's just staring down at his hands, and we're all like 'what the hell is he doing?' and suddenly - woosh!" you said with a giggle, using your arms for emphasis. "He pukes everywhere! It was so fucking much, Joel! And it was so disgusting, oh my god. People were running from their seats and dry heaving, and me and my parents are fucking dying with laughter," you said, your giggles growing louder the more you remembered. You wiped a stray tear from the corner of your eye as you continued. "Anyway, of course he got disqualified and he never could be in the same room as a rack of ribs ever again," you finished, flashing him a grin. But when you saw his expression, although he was smiling and giving you some obligatory laughs, you could tell it wasn't the first time he had heard that story.
"You knew that already, didn't you?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirked and looked down at his hands.
"Yeah," he admitted, and you groaned. "But it's still a real funny story. I love the way you tell it."
"I wonder if there's anything I didn't tell you," you said with a sigh. He inched a little closer when he heard the despair in your voice.
"It doesn't matter. I love hearin' everythin' 'bout you," he said, and you gave him a little smile. "You could tell me a hundred times and I wouldn't care."
He kept saying that word. Love. Over and over, like it was nothing. You looked away, his eye contact too intense all of the sudden, and stared out at the beauty before you. But you could still feel the heat of his gaze on your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your mind raced, trying to think of something else to say when he softly whispered your name. You tilted your head in his direction and the look in his eye caused you to temporarily forget how to breathe. He was staring at you like you were the only other person in the world. Like you were a siren, calling to him on the sea, or Aphrodite, knocking him to his knees in prayer.
No, no, no, you thought as he leaned in a fraction, his eyes flicking down to your lips. Too soon. Not ready.
A blood curdling screech echoed from somewhere behind you. Somewhere far too close for comfort. You froze, eyes wide and scared, but Joel whipped around and reached into his backpack, pulling out his revolver and knife.
Stay here, he mouthed, pressing a finger to his lips, and you couldn't remember if you acknowledged him or not before he crouched and disappeared into the long grass, leaving you all alone on the edge of a very dangerous cliff with some terrifying monster nearby. Slowly, trying very hard not to make a sound, you turned your head, searching for the source of the noise. As you scanned the field, the tall grass hiding Joel somewhere in its depths, you spotted it. It, being the only proper word.
It was hideous. Fucking disgusting. Half its face was overgrown with fungus plates, its mouth wide and wet and dribbling with blood, teeth yellowed and bared. It hunched over as it got closer and closer to you, snapping its jaw like a lion, trying to locate its next meal. You swallowed roughly as it got closer, its torn clothes and bent fingers coming into view. And the smell. The stench of death and rot filled the air, completely ruining the beautiful backdrop you were admiring mere minutes ago. Your heart slammed wildly in your chest, your breathing unsteady and your hands shook violently. You had nothing to defend yourself. You looked to your side, wondering if you could push it over the cliff if necessary. Where was Joel?!
Just as it was about to clear the grass and step into the clearing, Joel leapt up behind the creature and stabbed it in the back of the head with a loud grunt. It collapsed in an instant, blood spilling from its skull as Joel stood over the corpse, shoulders and chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.
"Oh my god," you whispered, your trembling hands coming up to cover your mouth as you stared at the lifeless body. You hadn't seen an infected alive yet. And they were far more terrifying than you ever imagined. Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly tried to flick away, but Joel already noticed.
"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he cleaned his knife off in the grass.
"Yeah," you replied shakily, still staring at the dead infected a few feet away. You slowly forced yourself to your feet and walked around it, only stopping when you were safely in the grass. With a grunt, Joel kicked the body closer and closer to the edge until it tumbled over. You winced as you heard its body faintly thudding and cracking against the rocks and branches below. He glanced over at you, your face screwed up with a mix of distaste and fear, and he sighed.
"Wanna just head back?"
"Yeah," you said, looking at the view once more before following him through the tall grass. "It was nice while it lasted, though."
The two of you trudged through the grass quietly, back towards the woods. He could tell you were shaken up and he inwardly cursed the clicker for ruining what could have ended up being a really nice day with you. A day where he thought he was making some progress. He made you smile and laugh and he definitely recognized that heated look in your eye back at the stables, but all of those memories suddenly seemed so distant. It wasn't until the horse came into view that he even remembered why he brought you out in the first place.
"You still wanna learn to ride?"
You looked up at him, your perfect lips parted ever so slightly. It made him want to grab your chin and press his mouth against yours so he could remember what you felt like again.
"Oh, sure," you said, glancing wearily over at the horse as you approached.
"Why don't you take the reins and I'll sit behind you," he offered as he untied the horse from the tree. "That way I can take over if you're feelin' too nervous."
"Okay..." you agreed slowly, realizing that meant he would be pressed up against you for the entire ride home. And this time, there wouldn't be a buffer.
He laced his fingers together and bent forward, offering you a boost. You got a good grip on the saddle and delicately placed your foot in his hands before he launched you upwards. You swung your leg over and shifted in the saddle a bit, looking down at the back of the horse's head. Its long ears flickered back and forth, trying to shoo away the flies.
You gasped when the saddle shifted slightly and Joel climbed up behind you. Your body stiffened and you stared straight ahead as he got himself comfortable. You tried to block it out, but when his arms wrapped around you from behind and took the reins from your grasp, you realized it would be impossible.
"This is how you wanna hold 'em, see?" he murmured softly in your ear, and you immediately felt goosebumps break out up and down your arms. He hadn't been this close before. Not even when he was examining your head wound. His exhale tickled the side of your neck and you realized his lips were dangerously close to your exposed skin. When it occurred to you that he had asked you a question, you blinked and snapped out of it.
"Yeah," you said, and you hoped he would think your hands were shaking because you were nervous to ride and nothing more.
"Now we're ridin' western, so when you steer, you wanna pull the reins across, like this," he said, demonstrating with his hands over yours, and just like that, the horse turned to the left. "And you just do the opposite if you wanna go the other way."
"Okay, makes sense," you replied, surprised you were actually following along.
"You want the horse to move, you gotta squeeze your legs. Gotta do it hard, though. It's a big animal, they can't feel you if you don't squeeze hard."
"Uh huh," you said, so you gave it a try. You squeezed your legs as hard as you could and the horse slowly lumbered forwards, and you squealed with excitement. "I did it!"
Joel chuckled behind you. You could feel the deep rumble through your back and the little puffs of air from his nose on your neck. It made you shudder, and you tried to pass it off like you were cold. The horse began to slowly walk back the way you came, through the trees and past a little stream, and the longer you walked, the more confident you became.
"This isn't so bad," you admitted, and you weren't sure if you were talking about Joel's embrace or riding the horse. You were growing used to his arms around you now, even though you didn't really need his hands to guide yours, you didn't say anything. It was... nice.
"How do I make it go faster?" you asked.
"Well, you can give her a little kick, or you can click your tongue. You remember how to click your tongue?"
You laughed a little and without thinking, you gave it a try. Clicking your tongue experimentally against your teeth sent the horse rushing forward. Just into a trot, but it still took you off guard. You gasped and leaned back into Joel's chest, looking to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall. You could feel him laughing behind you as he tightened his arms around your waist and gave the reins a gentle tug, slowing the horse back down to a walk.
"Not funny!" you exclaimed, but your smile gave you away.
He missed this. He really missed this. He missed holding you and laughing with you and spending time with you. What he wouldn't give to kiss you again. He ached for the way you tasted, the way you moaned underneath him, the feeling of your smooth skin under his rough palms. Every day that passed he felt like he was forgetting little by little, and the urge to remind himself, the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss you deeply and take you to bed with him was becoming more intense by the day.
But he had to be patient. He could be patient. You'd come around, one day. He was sure of it.
Tumblr media
By the time you made it back to Jackson, you were feeling much more at ease. Maybe this is what you needed. Some time away with Joel, just the two of you, so you could learn more about him. You had to admit, you were beginning to see a very soft and sweet side to him that you only caught glimpses of in the past.
Before today, you hadn't been able to understand the attraction. He was good looking, you already knew that, but you also knew that couldn't have just been it. That wasn't enough to share a love for one another that he classified as rare and meant to be. Now, it was starting to become clearer. There was something inherently sexy about the way he handled himself. The confidence he had, which, at first, came off as cocky, you now viewed in a different light. After the way he handled the horse in the pasture and the clicker in the field, you were beginning to understand.
Joel Miller was a protector. He cared deeply and passionately for the ones he loved, and he stopped at nothing to defend them. Sometimes that love was misplaced as anger, and that's where he kept losing you.
He had asked if you felt up to joining Tommy and Maria at the dining hall for dinner, and even though you were a little tired from your outing, you agreed.
As you walked down the street together, he had to fight the impulse to hold your hand. He still noticed the way people looked at you, their curiosity over your now famous injury getting the best of them, but once they caught his eye they quickly averted their gaze. It angered him, he couldn't help it. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. You didn't deserve to be gawked at.
You followed Joel through the crowded hall once again, and just like before, the crowd naturally parted for him. He seemed to be making his way towards the back, towards the same table as before, only this time Tommy and Maria were already seated and waiting.
Maria greeted you with a hug and you gave Tommy a quick smile across the table before sitting down between her and Joel.
"Beautiful day out today," Maria said off to the side while Joel and Tommy talked amongst themselves.
"Yeah, it really was. I'm gonna miss it when the snow comes," you said, giving her a face. "Who's watching your daughter?" you asked suddenly, glancing around as if you could have possibly missed a small child running around.
"Oh, Dina offered to babysit, so we jumped at the chance to get out of the house," she said with a laugh. "Did you do anything exciting today?"
"Yeah, actually," you said, glancing at Joel, who was still talking quietly to his brother. "Joel taught me how to ride a horse. Well... re-taught me, I guess," you said with a small laugh.
"Thats fantastic. I'm glad you were feeling well enough to go out," Maria said with a warm smile.
"Oh, that reminds me-" you said, stopping yourself when Seth came over to take your orders. You just asked for what Maria was getting and turned your attention back to her. "I thought of a job."
Her eyes widened in surprise and she clapped her hands together. "Let's hear it!"
"I thought I could help out at the infirmary," you said, and she nodded along thoughtfully. "Nick was telling me his aide had to join patrol and he says he just needs someone to help do things around the office."
"That sounds like a great idea," she said, but you could hear the hesitation in her voice. When she glanced over at Joel, you connected the dots and sighed.
"He's fine with it," you grumbled, your gaze dropping to your hands.
"Fine with what?" Joel's voice asked from beside you.
"She wants to help out at the infirmary," Maria said, and Tommy grinned.
"Great idea, sugar," he said, "Nick could use the help. He's smart, but he's disorganized as all hell."
"I think it'll be good for you," Joel said, his knee knocking against yours under the table. "Help you get to know everyone a little better. Besides, if anythin' were to happen, you're in the right place," he added, leaning back in his chair so Seth could put his plate down in front of him.
"What do you mean?" you asked, picking up your fork and then scrunching your nose when you saw cherry tomatoes on your plate. Without even looking up, Joel speared the tomatoes with his fork and put them on his plate, then the three of you watched as he gathered his squash and gave it to you.
"I mean, if your head ever got to hurtin' again, then you'd be in the right place," he explained, looking up and licking the pad of his thumb. He frowned a bit when he noticed the table staring at him, and Tommy and Maria quickly ducked their heads to focus on their food, hiding their smiles.
"What?"
You dropped your gaze shyly to your plate and poked at the squash with your fork. "You know I hate tomatoes."
Heat crept up his neck a bit but he grinned. "The acid upsets your stomach," he said, and you chuckled to yourself, about to say something else when Jesse happened to walk by your table with some friends.
"Hey, Jesse!" Tommy called out, making him stop. He gave you all a quick wave before looking at Tommy expectantly. "Think you can join in on the 10am patrol tomorrow? Joel was just tellin' me he saw a clicker in that zone. Don't want any surprises like last time."
"Yeah, of course," Jesse said, then Joel frowned.
"Speakin' of last time," Joel said, his eyes drifting back and forth between the two men. "You never did explain how she got hurt on your patrol."
"That's right," you said, setting down your fork, "what happened? How did I fall? Was it the horse?"
Tommy and Jesse exchanged a nervous look. It was quick, but Joel still caught it. His jaw ticked to the side as he patiently waited for an answer.
"Uh, it was all so fast, and so much was happenin'," Tommy said, clearly floundering.
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to remember exactly," Jesse said, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well, try," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave. You turned your head slightly to look at him, not understanding why there was a sudden mood shift.
"We got ambushed by a small hoard," Tommy began, pushing his food around on his plate. "Thought we had it handled til a bunch more came outta nowhere," he continued, looking up to meet your eye now. "You were takin' down a runner, didn't see one comin' up behind you and it pushed you down. Knocked your head on a sharp boulder. Jesse 'n me took down the rest of 'em and that's when we realized you were knocked out cold."
You nodded, the story making sense as you remembered waking up to them yelling your name and their clothes covered in blood. But Joel wasn't satisfied. He knew they were leaving something out.
"That all?" he pressed, eyeing his brother. Tommy looked at Joel, a tense moment passing between the two before Tommy slowly nodded. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Jesse interrupted.
"It was my fault."
The whole table turned to look at him, taken aback. His hands were fidgeting at his sides as he avoided Joel's intense stare, trying to look anywhere but at him.
"I wanted to check out this department store. It was too big, we hadn't cleared the area, b-but we hadn't seen any infected in weeks a-and I thought we were good," he said, glancing up quickly at Joel, who was clenching his jaw and glaring at Jesse.
"What'd you need so bad from this store?" Joel seethed, and you saw Jesse swallow nervously.
"I-it's me and Grace's anniversary soon, wanted to get her something-"
Joel stood up quickly, his chair tumbling backwards, clattering loudly on the ground and silencing the room.
"So you wanted to get your girlfriend a present? That's why she can't remember a goddamn thing?" Joel roared, pointing at you. Tommy stood up and held his hands out.
"Calm down, Joel."
"I ain't calmin' down!" he shouted, and you jumped in your chair, scooting away from him and closer to Maria, who put an arm around you and urged you to stand.
"Let's go to the bar," she murmured, ushering you away as if she knew what was coming.
"I-I'm so sorry, Joel," Jesse stammered, tripping over his feet as he tried to put some distance between them.
"Sorry ain't gonna bring her back," he growled, rounding the table, his shoulders tight and his eyes wild. He reached out and grabbed Jesse by the collar before Tommy could react, and slammed him face first into the table. Food and cutlery went everywhere. People at nearby tables backed away but stayed to watch the fight unfold. Joel lifted Jesse up and smashed his face into the table again with a grunt, and this time you heard Jesse cry out in pain. You covered your mouth in horror as you watched Tommy try to pry Joel's hands off of him. "Wonder how many hits it'll take before you forget Grace. Maybe then we'll be even!" he shouted, pulling him back up by the collar. By now, blood poured from Jesse's mouth and his cheeks, mixing with tears as he tried to pull Joel's hands away. Just as Joel was about to slam his head into the table for a third time, you found your voice.
"Stop!!" you screamed, and by some miracle, he did. He still gripped Jesse's shirt in his hands, but Joel twisted his head around to look at you. Whatever he in your face made his fingers loosen their grip and Jesse stumbled backwards, collapsing into a chair as Tommy kneeled down next to him, trying to wipe away the blood.
Joel turned his whole body toward you, his face red and his chest heaving. His eyes were still crazed with anger but you could see it slowly melting away.
He took a step forward and you took a step back.
His eyes dropped to your feet, regret washing over him in an instant.
"Maria, can you gimme a hand?" Tommy called out, and she rushed over to help Jesse stand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw them slowly leading Jesse towards the front door, no doubt in search of the doctor to help patch his wounds, but your eyes remained locked on Joel.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, not caring about all the onlookers still frozen in silence. But you did. You opened your mouth, then glanced around and thought better of it.
"Not here," you said under your breath, then stalked towards the exit, pushing your way past people until you felt the cool night air in your lungs.
You hurried down the street, wrapping your arms around yourself as you barreled home. You didn't turn around to see if he was following you. You knew he was. It was almost like you could feel him now. His presence draped around you like a scarf, surrounding you, engulfing you, suffocating you.
Storming up the porch steps, you flung the door open and walked inside, not bothering to close it behind you. You charged into the kitchen and paced around, your anger boiling inside you with nowhere for it to go.
"I'm sorry," he tried again from the doorway, trying to give you space. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. His eyebrows were pinched together as he quietly waited for you to say something.
"Have you always been like this?"
His breath caught in his throat and he paused for a moment before replying. "Since we met? Yes."
"So you're saying I've caused you to act like a caveman when you hear something you don't like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.
"No, no, that's not - what I meant was, since you've known me, I've... had a temper," he said, quickly correcting himself.
You let a silent moment pass between you as you thought about what he said.
"It's no wonder it took me so long to fall in love with you," you said, and he winced. He looked away, trying to hide the pain, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad, but you stood your ground.
"It didn't bother you before," he mumbled, looking at the ground.
"Well, it bothers me now," you snapped, and he nodded.
"Okay, then I'll work on it," he conceded, looking up at you. "Happy?"
You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Thrilled."
Brushing past him, you marched up the stairs towards your bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you.
You could hear him moving around downstairs as you washed up and changed into pajamas, still seething at his behavior. How could you possibly fall in love with this man? You could barely figure out who he was - one minute he was soft and sweet, and the next he was bashing people's faces in. Even you could see it wasn't really Jesse's fault. The three of you would have agreed to check out the store together. Joel was just looking for someone to blame. It was immature and brutish and stupid.
Just as you pulled the covers over yourself, you heard a quiet rap on the door. You paused for a moment before rolling your eyes.
"Come in."
The door slowly creaked open and Joel slipped inside your room, glancing around at the bedroom you once shared together before looking at you.
"Can we talk?"
You furrowed your brow for a second before nodding, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward and perched on the side of the bed, facing the wall so you could only see his side profile as he sat, deep in thought. You pulled your legs up so your chin rested on your knees and waited.
"I lied to you."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you couldn't help but think of the journal - Joel lied to me - and wondered if this was it. If you were going to get your answer.
"When you asked me what I missed most 'bout... before. I lied."
Okay, so probably not the lie in the journal, but still, your interest was piqued.
"What do you miss most?" you finally asked, and he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he stared at the wall.
"My daughter. Sarah."
Your heart clenched in your chest and your gaze dropped to your hands. A daughter?
A long silence passed as you slowly connected the dots. The way he was with Ellie. The anger. The journal entry about Tommy having a daughter. The softness he kept hidden away.
"She died on outbreak day," he began, his throat already constricting. "Died in my arms. She was shot and-" he sniffled and took a deep breath. "And I couldn't save her. I held her and watched the light leave her eyes and I -" he choked back a sob and looked down, still avoiding your gaze. "I've never been the same," he finally managed to get out.
You swallowed back the tears that were forming. How couldn't you see? Of course he was hurting. Of course he lost someone. Just like you lost your family, he lost his. Were you that selfish and blind that you couldn't see it?
"Joel, I'm so sorry," you said shakily, but he shook his head.
"Just wanted to explain why I'm... whatever," he replied, giving up and rubbing his face.
Your chest ached for him. He was in pain and you couldn't stand it. Inching forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck, tentatively resting the side of your head on his shoulder. His hand came up to cup your elbow and he tilted his head so it rested against yours.
"I'm sorry," you repeated softly.
"Me, too."
You stayed like that for a while. Extending small olive branches to each other as you sat with the weight of what the world did to you both, and you finally began to understand what might have brought you together in the first place.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
935 notes · View notes
satoruhour · 7 months
Text
a/n: IM HERE IM JERE SORRY FOR GOING AWOL
wc: 1.6k
warnings: dom!geto, fem!reader, infidelity / cheating, reader is a teacher, oral / cunnilingus, semi exhibitionist sex, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex although geto pulls out, praise, he calls you ’slut’ once, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media
“g-geto-san!” your hand immediately flies to your mouth at the loud moan you let out, propped up so beautifully on the L-shaped sofa while his wife stays sleeping. you look so different than when you commanded the classroom, so pliant and perfect.
“quiet, baby.” geto mumbles against your cunt, using his stronger arms to pull your pelvis closer to him.
your — hookup? acquaintance? — wasn’t one to cheat. it’s a funny thing to say that although he’s married while he has you soaking right through to the fabric below you but his wife wasn’t that innocent either.
the love had died long ago when geto had found that she wasn’t treating mimiko and nanako right, either being rude to them or forgetting to pick them up, small things like that. she didn’t like the extra weight and burden of suguru’s single fatherhood and that already should’ve been a sign and yet he’d put a ring on her — the pussy was too good, he guesses.
until he’s enrolling the girls in classes after passing a dance school, getting to meet you as their teacher. gentle, upbeat, and just oozing with kindness. you’d even went as far to wait with the girls when geto had been late in picking them up.
the lines have blurred since then, smeared so badly to the point you forgot how you ended up on geto suguru’s couch after locking up the studio. their aunt had already picked mimiko and nanako up and you couldn’t just resist after geto said he’d want to get to know you better.
oh, he was getting acquainted just fine.
“mmfhm . .” geto hummed into your cunt, licking stripe after stripe up your folds as your juices pool on his tongue, “cunt’s the best i’ve ever tasted.”
you burned at the praise; it’s no doubt geto has had many people before you but he really did mean it. so much sweeter and intoxicating, and the little sounds you made added everything.
“geto-san . .” you mumble just before he digs in, letting you pull on his hair so his head would tilt up.
“i’m eating you out and you’re still callin’ me by my last name?” geto laughs at your stammers, “’m just kidding—”
“are you sure?” he knows you’re referring to his wife just inches away, but he only scoffs. a hand goes to your clit, thumb rubbing the nub and you whine.
“been the surest once i saw you. i was going to die getting to know you.”
you stifle a laugh, “dramatic ass.”
geto smacks your pussy lightly, loving the way you tighten around nothing. your heels dig into his back as he hovers over your core and you have to steady your breathing.
“knew it from the moment you treated my girls right . .” he trails off before latches his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue and your hips push up more into his mouth. he moans at that, securing the hold he has on your thigh. you briefly catch how his hands go down to his centre.
“t-that’s just . . the bare minimum— ah! though,” you mewl out, trying to keep your moans to a low as the man below you does not care whatsoever. he slobbers all over your cunt, juices coating the bottom of his face until it’s dripping wet.
“still.” the one word then convinces you that maybe the lady sleeping from beside you wasn’t exactly the best, but you will away the thoughts once suguru drags his tongue down to your hole and his eyes bore holes into yours. he continually nudges his tongue against your clit, the lewd slurping noises making you clench around him.
“hear yourself, pretty?” you feel the grin against your folds and all you can do is whine, “she’s just dripping, isn’t she?”
you nod mindlessly, hands shakily taking his from your thigh and moving them to your neglected entrance. “need y-your—”
geto hums and indulges you, pressing his finger right into you and you moan out loud. his wife stirs for a bit and despite everything your pussy flutters at the aspect of getting caught — suguru smiles.
“dirty slut.” he mutters against your pussy, starting to pump his finger slowly and you tug harder on his black locks. there’s so much arousal everywhere even as he eases his second finger in and the stretch is so delicious.
“s-suguru . .” you trail off, head thrown back at how much thicker and longer his fingers are, “s’good—”
“yeah?” and to your dismay his hands stop, blessed with the cute pout that graces your face and he just laughs, standing to reveal his aching bulge and you’re peeling off his underwear for him.
“wanted to feel you around me, tha’s all,” he slurs in pleasure, licking his lips when he first sees your surprised face. you look cockdrunk already, hearts forming in your pupils.
“will it fit, suguru-san?” you whisper in awe, pumping it slowly and using a finger to collect the pre-cum that’s collected. he groans softly at that.
“it will, just gotta relax for me, alright baby girl?” you nod as he gently pushes your legs up, folding you in half while his tip brushes against your sex. there, he moves his hips, collecting your arousal, just barely putting the tip in. just like his hand earlier, he slaps his cock along your folds and grins at your squeamish movements.
“goin’ in, darling,” geto whispers and pushes in slowly. he’s so focused on the way your cunt stretches, a moan sounding out from deep in his throat while you hold on tightly to his biceps. small pants leave your mouth, seeing the silhouette of his pelvis slowly descend on yours while he bottoms out.
“s-suguru— f-full!”
“that so?” geto breathlessly chuckles before he moves and he has to still his hips just to compose himself at the feeling of your walls. so warm and accommodating. “baby, you feel so damn good . .”
suguru moves soon enough and you relish in the fact how you’ve managed to get such a composed man to break — always so polite and well-mannered when picking his girls up and yet now his hair falls from his hair tie and his cock is reacts so well to your drooling cunt.
this position has geto reaching deeper into you, his thrusts already turning sloppy and he pushes down on your legs more.
“close— ’m close suguru—” you whine out and there’s a teasing comment (“already?”) that leaves his lips, but he can’t speak too when he feels his high approaching too. a man like him reduced to such a fast orgasm has him blushing and yet he can’t resist your cunt.
your hands grasp aimlessly at geto as he smoothly places your legs on his shoulder and he leans down to capture your lips — “feels good, suguru . .”
the both of you hardly care about the person on the couch, mingling moans filling the room as you whimper into the kiss. your cunt continues to clench around him, feeling every vein and shape of his cock and committing it to memory just as he is with you; he thinks he doesn’t want to fuck any pussy ever again.
“’course it feels good, it’s b’cause you’re doing so well,” geto whispers against your lips and he takes note of how praise gets you going when he can feel your pussy throb. “oh? you like that, huh?”
you whisper a soft ‘yeah’ to him and you preen at another good girl he gives you, letting him embrace you fully as he stays buried in your neck. the feeling is all too much, the friction of his pelvis and the drag of his length along your walls that you cum immediately. your cunt gushes around him, and all you can do is babble into his ear.
“that’s it, i got you,” he mumbles against your neck, soft kisses placed there as lets you ride out your orgasm, the squelching of your pussy only increasing in volume as you tremble around him.
“cumming, baby,” geto says as he twitches, one last sloppy thrust into you before he pulls out and pumps his cock with loud drawn out groans. rope after rope of cum leaves his tip, staining your stomach and pussy in white and the both of you pant in unison, small smiles on your face.
“next time i’m cumming deep inside you,” geto says even when at the corner of his eye, he can see his wife slowly coming to consciousness and the shock register on her face that he’d stoop as low as her — random guys she brings to their house exchanged for one sweet teacher with an even sweeter pussy.
and geto suguru goes right to fucking you again and drawing the most sultry moans until she stomps away with anger and slams the door so hard it might’ve come off its hinges.
there’s only a shrug from geto at your distraught expression, but he resolves it soon enough with a hand to your clit, rubbing languid circles into it that you choke out a moan.
“are you sure it’s alrig—!”
“perfectly, baby,” he takes your hand and plants a kiss to it; it’s so gentle like other times, where he’d bring you to some quiet cafe to avoid being seen, or just a simple dinner in his home and you hate how you’re already falling for a married father and still, the thrill was just too good.
suguru puts your hand around his cock and you move with second nature.
“your pussy’s much prettier and better anyway.”
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
washeduphazbin · 3 months
Text
Electrifying
Vox x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
=_MINORS DNI_=
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Vox x feedreader, where he’s in his room with all those TVs, doing his broadcast or something? And the reader comes in and gives him a BJ (smut pls) I changed some things. I hope it's okay. Enjoy you, sinners. ;)
When you were alive, you weren't particularly religious; that's not to say you didn't believe in the concept of heaven or hell, just that you didn't care where you ended up. Your family was religious and cared more about scaring the word of the lord into you than your personal beliefs. In your head, you assumed that it was your anti-religious beliefs that would earn you a one-way ticket to hell. You didn't expect the reason to actually be the fact that you hacked yourself into a secret government database and ended up in prison, only to die in a prison riot that you played a part in. You become a number one target when you can hack the guard's security cameras.
Long story short, you died and woke up in hell. Then you hacked your way into working for one of the most powerful Overlords in hell, specifically by glitching out every one of his broadcasts until he noticed you.
Vox was going to kill you when he found out you were the one fucking up his tech, but you managed to convince him that combining your skills would serve him much better than slaughtering you and wasting your talent. He put your skills to good use; Vox could finally take breaks from constantly patrolling the cameras around Pentagram City and focus much more on improving his already well-renowned tech. It took a lot of sucking up and managing to break into some of whatever radio shops that were left in the city and breaking all the old-timey tech that things finally shifted between your relationship with the Overlord. Destroying those radios caused you to immediately jump on the Radio Demon's shit list, which as a normal Sinner was not ideal.
However, it jumped you up immensely on Vox's Employee of the Month board. In fact, you were almost sure you were his favorite employee ever.
He finally trusted you enough to show you the central hub where he ran his broadcasts, and you moved from ordinary everyday Sinner under contract to Vox's right-hand woman...who was...still under contract...semantics.
From that moment on, you were constantly by his side throughout every single one of his broadcasts. While Velvette might be the backbone of the Vees, you were Vox's hype woman, keeping him out of trouble while encouraging his most chaotic ideas. That's how the two of you remained for a consistent seven years until the Radio Demon hijacked Vox's broadcasts, showing all of Hell he's made his triumphant return.
"I can't fucking believe this, I've spent years building my empire, YEARS, and he thinks he can just take it from me like that? Does he even know who I am?" You watched your boss prepare for his late-night broadcast session, flipping switches and plugging wires into his head while ranting about that deer-faced fuck
"He's not worth it, Sir," You speak softly and notice his shoulders relax at your tender tone. "You've been running Pentagram City for years. At this point, your viewers aren't just going to turn you away for a guy who sounds like he swallowed a microphone instead of a dick." Vox snorted with delighted laughter as he sat down in his studio chair. His claws drumming on his metal table pinging around the studio, you stepped closer and noticed he was still trailing Aslastor's every movement on camera. "May I speak freely?"
He thought briefly before turning his screen to face you, "Well, spit it out then."
"Your 'hatred' for Alastor is boarding on obsessive; it's creepy and- don't give me that look." You huffed, crossing your arms, "You permitted me. Plus, you haven't even heard my suggestion yet."
"And why exactly would I let you suggest anything after your attitude?"
"It'll help you relax," your hands spread across his shoulder pads down his chest, and you could hear his processors running a little louder in embarrassment. "I have lived to serve you since the day you hired me. Let me help you." You purred softly next to his screen, nuzzling against the cool metal; you saw how his claws dug into the table before him, creating claw marks.
"I suppose if you're offering." He leaned back in his chair, wires still connected to the back of his screen; you hummed, moving in front of him. Subtly, very subtly, you pressed the start broadcast button with your fingers. He watched with spiraling eyes as you kissed the side of his screen before kneeling between his legs. You saw sparks of embarrassment erupt from his screen, "wait, what relaxation are we talking about here- fuck!" He cursed, voice glitching in a way he usually used to command attention from his viewers and Val. Your hands gently trailed over his belt buckle as you leaned against his thigh,
"Not yet," You teased softly, "Maybe if you're good." You whisper with a wink, kissing his inner thigh, "Don't you wanna relax?"
"Yes." He commanded you hurriedly before composing himself, "Be a good girl for me, baby. Help me relax."
"Yes, sir." You hummed, unbuckling his belt, and with a click of his metal clasp, his belt was pulled from his pants. You felt cold claws trace your cheek as you looked back up at him through your extended lashes. His screen was glowing a mesmerizing purple hue; he looked briefly awkward,
"Vox, say my name."
"Yes, Vox." You licked your lip, rubbing your thighs together; your fingers pulled and tugged at his pants in a way of asking permission. He gave a single head nod as his slacks were pulled down to his ankles. You heard him suck in through his teeth as you landed forward towards his boxers, admiring the significant hardness in his pants. "Look at you; you're so big already..." You felt drool pooling in your mouth, and he made another strangled electronic sound. "I can't wait to feel you in my mouth." He seemed to gather some confidence back as he gripped your hair, causing you to whine,
"If you're so eager. Then suck." His eyes flashed a plethora of pretty colors, and you felt your willpower drop, hypnosis, your heart skipped a beat as your underwear flooded with your slick. He grinned wickedly as your mouth opened wide, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you took him out of his underwear. His dick was unlike anything you've ever seen. It was long and curved, sticking straight into the air, showing his eagerness for your mouth; blue and red wire-like veins seemed to pulse with need. You leaned forward, nipping gently at his now bare thighs as he hissed in through his teeth before swallowing his length in your mouth. Vox groaned, a static sound; as soon as your hot mouth swallowed him, sparks from the monitors singed your skin. You smiled, knowing that his sounds and your actions were being broadcast for all of hell to see and hear, and he was none the wiser.
You felt his claws dig into your hair, pulling you forward, forcing you to take him deeper down your throat. You groaned around him and began to suck as deep as you could take him down your throat. "Fuck baby, fuck." He hissed as you looked up at him through half-lidded lashes, opening your mouth wider and running your tongue on the wire veins underneath his dick. He shuddered and choked back a moan as you pulled back. You began to kitten lick along the sensitive tip, swallowing the blue precum that was forming at the slit. He shuddered, the screen glitching a few times as it flashed different frames and colors. "Don't stop now; you're just getting better." He grinned crookedly, petting your hair like a pet; you gave him a look. He snickered, urging you forward back onto his dick,
"I'm going to make you cum so hard, your blue screen." You purred, licking your lips, gathering spit in your mouth before taking him as deep as your throat would allow. He was heavy in your mouth and throat, filling it even though he wasn't thick. His tip hit the back of your throat as you choked around him. He moaned heatedly, eyes squeezing shut as he jolted as you suctioned your lips around him. He was close, and you could tell his hips began to twitch as he attempted to fuck your throat. You took that as a sign to place your hand on his balls, squeezing them and caressing them through your hands; you were rewarded with an even louder moan and a shout of your name. "That's it, baby, I'm so close, harder. fuck you're such a good girl." That seemed to do it as you moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him as he shot his load down your throat, which you swallowed eagerly.
He tasted like you swallowed a packet of blue raspberry pop rocks.
You pulled off of him, licking your lips, and noticed his entire body was slack, face completely blue, sparks shooting out the back of his head. You giggled, turning to the screens and seeing yourself on camera; you hummed, hiking up your skirt and giving a little bow to the audience before ending the broadcast. You and Vox's phones were blaring with messages nonstop; you picked up Vox's while he was rebooting. You opened it quickly, remembering his passcode from when he told you to monitor Val's activities with the tracker he placed on the Moth. There were notifications from social media and Vox tech itself, which you promptly swiped away so Vox couldn't see them immediately when he rebooted. About a hundred texts from Velvette and Valentino in the Vees shared group chat.
Velvette was screaming about all the social media images she'd have to wipe to protect Vox's image and how much of an idiot he was for not double-checking that he wasn't on air. While Val was giving a rating while sending a play-by-play and ranking your technique, begging Vox to let him use you in his next shoot. You giggled, leaning down to snap a picture of you with a still rebooting Vox and sending it to the other Vees before throwing the phone away. If things go well, he'll fuck you on air next; worst case scenario, you'll double die, known as one of the best dick suckers in hell, probably only second to Angeldust.
628 notes · View notes
Summertime Sadness
Tumblr media
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Warnings: Smut MDNI (18+), riding, love making? angst, love confession
Words: 5.6k
Synopsis: Simon has to leave again...
You are currently reading chapter 10 of The Roommate Series
You woke up to the sound of talking. 
You thought nothing of it for a moment, your mind too tired as you attempted to go back to sleep for a couple more minutes. You stayed up late last night talking with Simon about anything and everything, the conversation not really ending until you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.
It was the most he had ever spoken to you about himself since you’ve known him. Of course, throughout the years he would tell you about where he grew up and small things about his life before he met you, but this had been entirely different. You learned much more about his family and his life than you ever would’ve thought to know from someone as private as him. 
You got as close to being inside of his mind as you could because he willingly let you in.
Simon Riley broke down his walls for you.
It warmed your heart but twisted it all the same. The things you learned connected a few of the dots on why he was the man you had fallen in love with and you would never change that, but that didn’t mean it hurt to think about what he went through.
His father, the torture…
You were cuddled together in his bed, your entire body laying on top of him while he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You had lightly dragged your fingers through his hair, caressing the scars on his face while the two of you continued to talk.
“Why do you stay if it hurt you so bad?” You had asked him while listening to his heartbeat. 
“Someone has to make them scared of the dark.” He had held you close to him and ghosted his lips across your hairline. “Want to keep you safe too.”
You learned very little else about his job, except that ‘them’ were terrorists, and suddenly his paranoia made sense. Everything about him surrounding his job made sense but that didn’t make you feel any better about the thought of him leaving again. 
In fact, it only made you more anxious. 
He had already been captured once, had more scars from injuries and wounds from his work and had crawled back to you nearly bleeding out to death. It was clear his job was dangerous, just like he said, but it only set in now that anytime he left you alone it might be the last time you’ll ever see him.
That didn’t sit well with you, but instead of expressing that to him last night you kept it in. 
You crack your eyes open and peered at the empty spot on the bed behind you, slight disappointment filling your stomach. 
Simon had woken up before you again but unfortunately didn’t wake you up with him this time. He probably didn’t want to wake you up, valuing your sleep more than you do, especially since you didn’t mind the morning sex with him, especially because it was him.
It took you a moment to realize that the talking inside the apartment wasn’t from the TV, considering that Simon rarely ever turned it up higher than a single digit, but from Simon and someone else. Their voices were hushed but the thin walls made it so you could almost make out what they were saying.
You slipped out of bed and slowly made your way out into the kitchen, curious about who Simon had invited inside the apartment.
Your curiosity disappeared when you saw Price sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand.
The conversation died as soon as you walked in. You felt like a deer in headlights as the two men stared at you as if you were an unexpected guest. 
“Good morning.” Price greeted with a soft smile that made your chest tighten.
“Morning, love.” Simon mumbled to you as he came up to you with a plate of breakfast.
“Morning…”
You stared at him with uncertainty and a heavyweight settled on your shoulders. He gave you a knowing look, his dark eyes full of guilt as he handed you the plate and gave you a gentle squeeze on your waist. 
You gave him the best smile you could as you pushed the negative feelings down and if it weren’t for the fact that Price was in the room, you would’ve given him a kiss.
Simon moved away from you and went back to the stove where he began to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
You sat across from Price and continued to smile. You didn’t hate him, even when you had only met him once, but you couldn’t help but feel some dread knowing that he was here to bring bad news. 
“Sleep well?” He asked and you gave him a polite smile.
“I did.” You glanced at Simon and though you tried your hardest to keep your stomach from churning, you found that you weren’t at all hungry.
“I’m sorry about coming by unexpectedly again, I promise I’ll be better about it next time.”
You shook your head and gave him a small laugh. You assumed he was trying to soften the blow by trying to make conversation but you would much rather him get to the point so you could worry about what to do in the aftermath.
What were you going to do while he was gone? How much longer will he be gone for this time? He had come back unexpectedly, in the middle of whatever it is that he does, that’s what was told to you, so you had no clue. Would you be back in school by the time he got back? Would the next semester end before he got back?
“I came by to check on Simon-”
“I’m assuming to see if he can go back, right?” You looked at him and his face fell slightly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”
Price scoffed and he looked slightly amused, though you could see the cold seriousness hidden within his eyes. You were probably doing him a favor for cutting the conversation short, making it easier for him to break the news without having to deal with the hysterics slowly building up inside you. 
Simon stopped cleaning the dishes and frowned, his eyes burning into you but you refused to look at him.
“It shouldn’t be for too long, just tying up loose ends.” He explained and you nodded, unsure of how true that statement was.
“You’ll keep him from getting stabbed again, I hope?” You teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Price flashed a quick smile while Simon huffed. 
“I can watch my own back.” He grumbled and Price raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Don’t make me embarrass you in front of her.” Price threatened and if it were any other time you would’ve laughed, maybe played into it as well but you didn’t have the energy for it.
“Please?”
Price looked back at you, his face stern now, and he nodded. He didn’t have to say anything because you could see it in his eyes that he meant it and it should’ve made you feel better but all you could think was that you couldn’t go through what you did again.
“Thank you.” You breathed out.
“Of course.” He said solemnly and the kitchen became quiet.
Price didn’t linger. He took another sip of his coffee from the mug he had before he stood up and handed it to Simon with a pat on his shoulder. 
You went to stand up as well so you could see him out but Simon stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Eat. I’ll be back.” He assured you and you nodded.
You gave a polite smile to Price that he returned before the two of them disappeared, their voices hushed once more. You heard the front door open and suddenly the emotions began to bear their weight down on you.
The air was thick as you stared down at your plate, your stomach churning with so much anxiety that you felt so much nauseous you were sure that you were about to throw up. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hiding your face behind your shaky hands as you tried to gain control of your body. 
Simon was leaving you again. He was going to put himself in harm's way and he might die, you might never see him again, he might get captured again.
Your throat tightened and you struggled to breathe. You had to have faith in him but you couldn’t help but think of the what ifs and the worst case scenarios, especially when every single one of them ended in death.
You don’t know what you’d do without him. You’re not sure if you could live with him being truly gone…
You heard his footsteps approaching and quickly tried to regain composure. At least you knew ahead of time, at least you had more time to prepare yourself for when he left and you weren’t going to waste what little time there was ruining it with your anxieties.
Before he came back in the kitchen you put on a face and pretended to be fine while you picked around your plate.
Simon said your name as soon as he walked through the door, his voice soft and  nearly remorseful before you looked at him with a fake smile. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes hardened when you walked over to him.
“I was thinking we should invite him over when it’s not work related.” You told him before you pulled him into a hug. “And John and Kyle.”
“If that’s what you want, we can find the time.” He mumbled and hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.
You almost wanted to melt into his touch, to have him hold you and let you cry how unfair it was to make him go back after being injured, but you stopped yourself. You knew what it would do to him, the guilt that he would feel for just doing his job, so you pulled away from him.
You stared at him, taking in everything about his features that you could in case you wouldn’t be able to remember them when he was gone. You had mapped out the scars every night, the way the bridge of his nose was crooked and the way his eyes drooped tiredly. You counted the small freckles and traced the wrinkles, finding your heart warmed when you noticed the crows feet on the corners of his eyes.
You lifted a hand and traced your thumb over the scar close to his eye causing him to lean into your touch with a soft, saddened expression.
“When?” You could barely ask the question above a mumble but you kept your face as cheery as you could.
“Tonight.” He told you as he caressed your cheek with calloused fingers. “I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”
You nodded slowly as your heart sank. You only had the rest of the day to spend with him and it felt like you had wasted so much time already. It wasn’t like you could’ve known but it felt like you should’ve, so now you had it in your mind that you had to fix the mistake. 
You wanted to spend as much time with him today as possible and to make his last night here worth it.
“I-”
“How about we have an inside date later?” You offered, already coming up with a plan. “Dinner and a movie, the classic.”
Simon’s face fell and he stared at you with that same guilty look he had earlier. He continued to hold you close to him as if you’d move away while he stared deep into your eyes as if he could read your mind with just a look. He had a frown on his face as he rubbed his thumbs into your hips in an attempt to calm you both, but your mind had already set itself on ignoring your feelings and fixing the problem.
You ran your hands down his arms and gave him a reassuring squeeze, in hopes that maybe it would be enough to distract him to forget about looking more into it.
“What do you say? I think we have enough food to make something,” you offered again and gave him a smile in hopes it would win him over.
He was quiet for a moment. He was in deep thought as the frown on his face didn’t go away. A quiet, but long sigh left his chest before he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and he gave you a firm squeeze.
“As long as I get to help you cook.” He said and you gave him a look that made the corner of his lips twitch.
“You never let me spoil you.” You grumbled and he rubbed his thumb into your hip.
“Don’t need it.”
You couldn’t help but frown at that. You knew that he wasn’t joking, it was hard enough to get him to accept your help most of the time so you knew that he truly thought he didn’t need you to spoil or take care of him. It made your chest tighten and your heart twist in ways that hurt when he spoke of himself that way now. 
He had told you it had been years ago, way before he had posted an ad for a roommate. He had told you he was better, that what you saw on the days where he rarely left his room or when he was more quiet, more angry, those were remnants of time much darker than now, but that didn’t change anything.
You still wondered if he knew the extent you would go to alleviate that pain. How much you were willing to take care of him as much as he was willing to take care of you. 
You hoped he would know tonight. You wanted to make his last night here for the next few months the best it could be and if that meant stubbornly forcing him to let you take care of him you didn’t care.
“Alright?” Simon squeezed your hip and you placed a kiss on his cheek. “You should eat.”
“I need to get ready for the day, but thank you.”
His eyebrows knitted together and somehow you managed to slip out of his hold before he could stop you. He didn’t say anything but watched you make your way to your room with your thoughts already taking over most of your senses. 
~
The rest of the day went by in a blur. 
You spent every moment with him that you could and luckily he didn’t seem to mind. It was one of those days where neither of you left the apartment for any reason even if you thought of something that needed to be done.
Simon piddled around the apartment doing the chores that needed to be done for the week. He refused to leave them for you to do, once again using the excuse that since you were there more often than he was he might as well make it so you didn’t have to do anything for the first week he was gone.
You didn’t want to admit to him that he had saved you from living in a squalor for the next couple of days.
It had become harder each time he left to make yourself do the things that needed to be done the first couple of days he was gone. The apartment would usually be a wreck for a couple of days while you struggled to get over the heartache you felt from him leaving. 
You knew tomorrow would be rough. You were sure you were going to be in tears the entire day, especially since you were struggling to keep your emotions in now as the two of you finished dinner.
You were quiet all evening. The closer the day went to night, the more anxious you became and the more you began to overthink everything about him leaving.
This was the first time you had time to prepare for it and yet you felt completely lost. Even when you knew how to handle him disappearing, right now it felt like everything was falling apart as you waited for the time when he was gone. Somehow it was worse knowing he was leaving this time, knowing that maybe he wouldn’t make it back.
Simon said your name and you turned to him.
“Hm?”
His eyebrows were knitted together and it was hard to tell whether or not he was upset at you or upset about something else as he gently took the dirty dishes that you were about to clean from your hands. 
“I said I could do them.” He told you and you chewed on your inner lip.
“Oh,” you didn’t protest as he took them to the sink. “Do you want me to help?”
Simon shook his head and you frowned. You hesitated to leave and he noticed the look on your face. He wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a firm squeeze in hopes that maybe it would help you.
“I’ll meet you in there.” He gave you a soft pat on your lower back before he went back to washing the dishes.
You sat on the couch in the  living room and didn’t make a move to turn on the TV to find a movie. Instead you began to stare off into space again, your thoughts taking over as you watched the black screen with indifference. His departure was all you could think about, it was unfortunately the only thing that mattered to you right now.
You tensed up and took a shaky breath. You could feel yourself barreling towards an explosion of emotions that you had pushed down since this morning. You didn’t want to cause a scene or to make the last few hours of Simon’s time home until he would come back, whenever that would be, dealing with the fact that even after so many years you still couldn’t handle him being gone.
Your vision blurred and you placed your hands over your eyes, wiping away any tears.
“Love.” 
You jumped at the sound of Simon’s voice and you very quickly tried to pull yourself together. You gave him a weak smile, one that didn’t convince him as he sat down next to you with a heavy sigh. 
You saw the concern in his eyes and you immediately set on getting his attention away from you.
“I’m okay.” 
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
Simon said your name again, a little more stern than before and suddenly shame settled in your stomach. You turned your body away from him, keeping your eyes on the floor as you did while your stomach twisted up in knots.
You didn't want him to know how upset you were and yet being found out, him knowing that you were keeping it from him made you feel stupid. You could’ve done better at hiding it, you were better at hiding it, at least you thought you were but this time it was hard.
Hard because you opened your heart to the feelings you had once pushed away. Hard because he had reciprocated them tenfold, like it was what he was made to do, to love you like you were the moon, the sun and everything else in the universe. 
You didn’t want this to be the last time you could ever return that.
Simon grabbed your wrist and tried to get you to look at him. When you didn’t, he placed a careful kiss on your pulse and gently tugged you close to him. 
You moved closer to him, leaning some of your weight against him but still kept your eyes on the floor.
“Look at me.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek and turned your head towards him.
You had no choice but to meet your eyes with his. You shrunk under his serious gaze unsure if he was truly upset at you or if he was upset about the current circumstances that had come about because of the way he had returned. 
He stroked his thumb across your cheek, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made heat pool at your stomach while also making you feel incredibly vulnerable , like he could see into your mind and into your soul, to the very inner workings of who you were.
He stayed quiet for a long moment, drinking you in and taking in every detail on your face, while you did the same, before he spoke.
“This is how it’s going to be.” His voice was low and calm as he spoke, his thumb still caressing your skin. “If you can’t live with it, you have to tell me now.”
You could live with it, you already have. 
It had crossed your mind a few times that maybe it was too much waiting for him to come home, that maybe the constant loneliness that came with his absence would hurt too much to the point that you weren’t sure if you could wait for him to return however many months it took for him to get the job done. And with the added reality that he might not come home after all of that, you wondered if you could handle it. 
But when he did come home, when he finally pulled you into his embrace and let you feed him and showed you that he was back it made the wait worth it.
Simon made everything worth it.
“I can.” You were just as serious as him as you placed a hand overtop of his. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not hard to watch you go.”
“Coulda said that earlier.” His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out a short breath.
“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”
“I’m always going to feel guilty, especially if you keep it from me.”
You nodded and your eyes dropped. You scooted onto his lap where he wrapped his arms around you and situated the both of you in a more comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest while he rested his chin on the top of your head, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your hips.
You let out a shaky sigh.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.
“...Thank you for staying.” He whispered back and you nodded.
You both said nothing for a long while. You relaxed against him and for a moment you felt like you could fall asleep here, his arms were safe and loving to the point that after all of the emotional turmoil he was putting you to sleep. 
You would’ve if it didn’t mean that he would disappear.
Instead, you took a deep breath and focused on the present.
“Do you hate leaving?” You wondered out loud, the questions finally pouring out after being kept in for so long.
“Every time.” He said without missing a beat.
You hummed and listened to his steady heartbeat. Relief washed over you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It was easy to tell he liked being back home, that he enjoyed your presence, but being told that was something entirely different. 
It felt good to know that he hated leaving just as much you hated watching him go.
For a moment you wondered if you shouldn’t ask anything else but you figured it was best to get it out of the way now rather than wait until years down the line.
“Would you ever want to quit?”
“Love…”
“I’m not trying to convince you, I just want to know.”
Simon was quiet for a long time. He was deep in thought yet he never stopped his ministrations as he kept a firm hold on you. He took a deep breath and squeezed you gently.
“Hard to say. Probably not.”
You’re not sure what you expected. Maybe you wanted him to completely change his mind and tell you that soon he would quit his job to get something less dangerous that would keep him home so you didn’t have to worry about him dying. That he finally realized he didn’t have to stay, he didn’t have to fight, but that was selfish of you.
From what he had told you, from what you could infer, his job had been the only thing that kept him together until he could on his own. It was stable enough for him, enough to give him a purpose, so you couldn’t take that away from him. 
“I’ll always come back to you.” He reassured you as if he could read your mind.
“What if you dont?” You could barely say it.
It was a possibility. There were only so many times he could run back to you on death's door, so many times he gets lucky and avoids capture or death before he made one mistake. One mistake and he’d be gone from you forever, and you’d be left alone to pick up the pieces he’d leave behind.
You trusted him, you were sure he was good at his job, but people died in the force all the time. 
“Then I hope you’ll forgive me.” He said softly, almost as if there would be a possibility that you wouldn’t.
Your throat tightened and tears threatened to form. You clenched your jaw and in that moment you knew that you had to tell him just in case this would be the only time you could.
Before you could even think, you shot up and looked him in the eyes.
“I love you.”
Simon’s eyes widened and his body stiffened underneath you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips and he stared at you with an unreadable expression on his face while his eyes bounced around your face. He barely let you move on his lap as he stared at you like you had grown another head or that you had said something outrageous.
It sent your stomach into knots and you chewed on your lip. You didn’t regret saying it but maybe it was too early, maybe for him it was too much especially since he was leaving in a couple hours. It took him three years to tell you just a fraction about his past, maybe it was too intimate-
“Say it again.” He practically demanded.
You blinked but he pulled you closer to him. You placed your hands on chest and felt his racing heartbeat as he eyes softened, peering deep into you as he kept you firmly against him.
“I love you.” You repeated, softer this time and he swallowed hard.
A light blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Instead of averting his gaze however, he leaned forward and ghosted his lips across yours. It was soft and almost hesitant before you reciprocated it. 
The kiss was slow, blooming into something more as his hands began to roam across your body as if he were touching marble. He sighed heavily, his hand settled as the base of your neck to deepen the kiss while you straddled his lap.
You gasped into his mouth when you felt his hard cock rub against your heat and pushed your hips further down. You swallowed the grunt that escaped his lips and clutched his shirt tighter as he broke the kiss.
Simon rested his forehead against yours as the two of you caught your breath. He massaged his fingertips into your neck, causing your eyes to flutter shut while he pressed a few quick kisses against your skin.
“Again.” He whispered against your lips desperately as if the words were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.
“I love you.” You whispered back and he shuddered. 
He locked you lips in another kiss that was more heated than the last but just as slow. He kept you against him before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and began to take it off.
You pulled away from him, light headed as you tossed your shirt on the floor somewhere. You shivered when his hands touched your bare skin, the heat from his palms raising goosebumps as he unclasped your bra and tossed it away as well.
Simon didn’t hesitate to kiss your breasts, leaving hot kisses against the plump flesh before he took a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh only because you let out short whines that made his cock impossibly harder.
Your hands grasped his hair and you tugged on the strands, your hips grinding your clothed cunt against him for any kind of friction. Your panties were wet as he moved to your other nipple while his hands traveled to your ass. 
He moved your hips for you and the more he touched you, the more he kissed your skin and revered you, the more you yearned for him.
You needed him inside you, in your heart and in your soul. You needed him to stay even though you knew he wouldn’t and you needed him to show you how much he loved you back despite that. You needed him fully, with every part of him that he tried to hide from you.
“Need you.” You panted as you tugged on his shirt with pleading eyes. “Please, I need to feel you.”
Simon didn’t hesitate to throw off his shirt, a heavy sigh falling from his mouth when your hands pressed against his skin. He helped you throw off your shorts and panties, the rest of his clothes following, leaving the two of you laying naked against each other.
It was all the two of you needed for a moment. You would’ve been content laying against him like this any other day, just feeling him and holding onto him, but you need more.
His cock hard and red, beads of precum on the tip, rested in between your legs on your soaking cunt. He bucked his hips up a few times, dragging it across your slit where the tip eventually caught onto your entrance and you both gasped.
“Simon…”
“Fucking hell, love.”
You raised your hips and slowly began to sink down on him.
You whimpered, still not used to the size of him, though you were sure you never would be, and dug your fingernails into his skin. You already felt dizzy and you barely had the tip inside of you, your walls clenching around him like he would disappear.
Simon pressed his lips to your pulse and kissed it gently. He moved his lips across your neck, sucking marks into your skin as he rubbed his hands soothingly into your body. 
“Breath, love.” He kissed underneath your jaw and you moaned when you sank further down on his cock. “That’s it.”
He continued to whisper sweet encouragements in your ears until you were fully seated on him, a tight moan escaping his mouth. Both of you were out of breath, pressed together and panting as the head rested against your cervix. 
You looked deep with his eyes and raised your hips, beginning to bounce on his cock as soft whines escaped you. You didn’t break eye contact with him as you did, heat coursing through your body and sending electric shocks through your nerves as you rode him.
He thrust up into you slowly but deep. Each thrust from his hips matched the rhythm you set as the air was knocked out of your lungs and your head suddenly became light. You were so full of him, stretched out by his massive cock that nearly all coherent thought had been lost to you, the only thing now were the soft moans and whines that escaped your throat.
He stared up at you with heady lovesick eyes. He let out soft grunts and groans as you rode him with the love you proclaimed that struck him in his cold heart, that gently took away the walls and the constant need for survival, leaving him feeling incredibly different.
All that was left was Simon Riley, vulnerable and in love with you.
His cock dragged in and out of you, hitting the spot that had your legs quivering and you squirming on top of him. Your stomach pulled and you curled your toes, the all too familiar sensation building up inside as he continued to thrust into you.
You were close and he could feel it. You gasped when he sped up his thrusts just enough to make you see stars while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut and for a moment you let yourself feel the sensation of your bodies together.
Simon gently cupped your face and you forced your eyes open to look at him. He stared at you with heavy eyelids and caressed his thumb across your cheek. He leaned forward and pressed chaste kisses against your lips while his other hands fumbled with the dog tags around his neck. 
You barely noticed him slip it around your neck until the heated metal bounced against your chest. 
You came immediately, your cunt fluttering around his thick length as your vision went out. You wrapped your arms around his neck, falling limp against him as he held your waist while he fucked you through your orgasm.
His thrusts became sloppy and it only took a few more deep ones before you felt him release hot ropes of cum inside you. He hugged you close, both of you waiting to come down from the high while he left soft kisses on your shoulder.
The two of you stay like that for a while, unable to separate from each other and even finding yourselves riling each other up again when you just had to utter those three words again.
“I love you.”
Link to part 11
A/N: I needed this tbh. Should've been doing work but I got stressed. Lowkey smut, I tried but lost some steam
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
Tags:
@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
955 notes · View notes
rinniessance · 5 months
Text
FAITH ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x fem!reader
Tumblr media
suguru geto has been slipping further into darkness every day since amanai riko's death. now with yu haibara's dead body in front of you, you think suguru might sink even deeper. so you offer him a respite between your legs.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ hurt/comfort, porn with plot. established relationship, sex as unhealthy coping mechanism, co-dependency, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected sex. canon compliant but you forgive geto all his crimes ♡ // word count: 6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: this is a repost from my old blog .ᐟ.ᐟ this was originally written for a collab and i love this piece so much, i want it on my new blog꒱
Tumblr media
for a second, the world has finally gone silent. suguru doesn’t remember when was the last time it was this quiet inside his head. ever since that day, he’s been haunted by the creeping thoughts of the next time he’s going to fail; plagued by the thoughts of which friend he will have to bury next just because they were lucky (or unlucky) to be born with the gift to be special, to be stronger, to protect. but suguru should’ve known better than to trust his own mind not to play the cruel trick.
clap… clap.. clap. clap.clap.clap
raven-haired sorcerer keeps staring at the wall, paralyzed by the memories, the echoes that still breath down his spine and make the goosebumps dance across his skin. the clapping always follows the silence. same way a kid would pick on a just healed wound, making it bleed with the renewed vigor, suguru’s mind keeps tearing his never-healing soul apart and making it bleed all over again.
the water has gone cold, but geto doesn’t notice. in the end, the coldness that’s been spreading somewhere deep around his heart is harder to ignore. he has not noticed yet, but he’s been slowly losing himself to the darkness brewing inside. and if what they say about the eyes being windows to the soul is true, then suguru’s are sign of no good (you’ve been trying to find the reflection of the suguru you knew but he’s been slipping away further every day).
he knows you’ve been worried; he knows you’ve been asking him to open up and talk; whispering so softly please baby let me help you. and you’re so soft, so sweet, so willing to do anything, he tries to forget the burden he’ll always be carrying by losing himself between your legs. water droplets keep falling down his wet hair, and he thinks he’ll allow his inner demons to be satiated by the thoughts of you. he thinks of your soft lips that he yearns to kiss after a mission because the taste of the strawberry lipstick and green tea mochi you had for desert chases away the taste of vomit from the curses he had to swallow. suguru is sure he will do anything for you. he just has to make sure that you will do anything for him as well.
Tumblr media
yu haibara is seventeen years old when he dies. you think you should be crying but the shock of the news has not worn off yet; you’re not able to comprehend yet that it’s another friend gone. you move your gaze to nanami who is sitting in the corner hiding his face behind the towel. he reminds you awfully of the suguru a year and some ago when he trailed behind satoru who was carrying the body of amanai riko. you wonder if nanami is hiding his eyes on purpose; you wonder if he's been crying and feeling guilty and blaming the villagers for what happened. you wonder because that's what you’ve been through with suguru.
you slowly turn to look at your lover: his under-eye bags have become even darker, his face appeared to be more sunken, and he looks even more disheveled than he’s been looking lately. you’ve been trying to persuade him to talk to you about the demons that are pulling him away from you but he doesn’t want to discuss this – that’s not what he wants you for. but you’re so helplessly in love with him, you’re not sure what you would do if he stops coming back to bury himself to the hilt in your pussy as means of coping. so if he wants to chase his demons away by fucking you like his life depends on it, you will allow him to do it every time.
“it was supposed to be an easy mission to exterminate a second-grade cursed spirit… fuck!” nanami feels bubbling frustration and exhaustion mix together, so he tiredly exhales. “their faith in ubusunagami... that was a local deity. that was a first-grade case.”
suguru sighs. “you need to rest for now, nanami. satoru has taken up your mission.”
“can't we just leave everything up to him alone at this point?”
the question hangs heavy in the air. satoru was becoming the strongest sorcerer, he didn’t need you or suguru accompanying him on missions anymore. you wonder if satoru really didn’t notice the changes happening with suguru, or if he just decided to ignore all the signs. maybe you should’ve brought your concerns to him but if your partner did not want to talk to his best friend about it, then you would not get in the mix.
you gently took geto’s hand and intertwined your fingers.
“i’ll wait for you in your room, my love. come find me when you’re ready.”
this has become a routine for you. whenever you would see suguru start slipping, you would offer him the oasis he seeks in your cunt. so you leave the morgue and let suguru come to you.
Tumblr media
geto wanders around school before he makes his way to you. he thinks about the conversation he had with yu and yuki right before his mission. he thinks about yu’s sweet innocence and naïve desire to protect everything and everyone. what did he say to geto? it feels really good to be able to give my all to something i can actually do. should suguru have said something to him about how easy it is to slip and fall? how fragile human lives are and how unfair it was that the only lives that the non-sorcerer world was not scared of breaking were theirs?
and then he thinks about what yuki asked him. do you hate non-sorcerers, geto-kun? he makes a turn into a garden behind the school contemplating the question. did he really want to fight and reject the part that makes him grow hot with contempt, burning him from the inside? if the failure of the last year’s mission, if the death of yu haibara, if the thought of you bloody and dead in his arms makes his insides run cold, crippling him to the point of total numbness, then the thoughts of letting the weak and the pathetic live while the people closest to him only keep piling up as corpses make his blood boil. maybe that’s exactly what he was looking for.
suguru makes another turn to walk towards the dorm. he lets his thoughts run their own course while he’s trying to concentrate on the only person who matters to him right now. he knows you’re waiting for him in the room, and he cannot wait to slip into a blissful ignorance about everything, even if it’s just for a second. as he expects, you’re waiting for him on his bed, laying on your side facing the wall. he strips of his jacket and lays next to you snaking his arms around your waist and hugging you so close, you think he would never let you go again.
“need you right now, baby,” geto whispers so quietly and then places the first kiss in the crook of your neck. you turn to face him now instead, and gently cup his face into your hands. it always starts like this. suguru would come to you at the ungodly hour of the night, and you accept him with no hesitation.
“tell me what exactly you need, my love,” you respond and then place a careful kiss on his lips. he doesn’t respond, just lets you move your lips to the other parts of his face, pecking everything you can get your lips on.
“need to have you, to be in you.”
“then you have me. you know i’m yours, now and forever.”
with that, suguru pushes you onto your back and then climbs on top. he captures your lips in the kiss that can only be described as desperate: one of his hands comes up behind your neck and he pulls your face even closer to him, while other slowly trails down your body. he’s invading your mouth with his tongue, stealing all your oxygen for himself as if he’s to decide when you can breathe, teeth clashing. it’s messy, it’s violent in its intensity, and it makes the wetness pool between your legs. suguru pushes his knee between your thighs, spreading them further, and breaks the kiss. his gaze follows the outline of your body all the way to your clothes cunt, and the wet stain on your underwear gets him excited, and makes you blush.
“someone’s been waiting for this, huh?” geto teases and takes off your underwear. he gathers the slick dripping out of you onto his long fingers by circling them around your weeping entrance but doesn’t insert them yet.
“can you take me without any prep?” you can see his is frantic to the point of impatience. you can see how ragged his breathing already is, how heavy his eyelids are and how dilated his pupils became. suguru is a drug addict looking for his next fix, and only your pussy can offer him the relief he needs.
“anything you need, you can take from me,” is the only thing you can respond with, and suguru does not need any other confirmations. he shimmers out of his pants and boxers, takes off his shirt and his naked physic makes your breath hitch. you run your fingers on his pectoral muscles and down his pecks. you want to lick geto’s happy trail, all the way down his hard cock and then gag yourself to the point of tears. but that will possibly come later. for now, you just let him get situated between your thighs, grab your legs and bring them over his shoulders.
“you ready, pretty thing?” suguru knows that he doesn’t need to ask as if you will give any other answer but positive, but you still nod your head. geto knows that he is being selfish – there is no foreplay on nights like this, just pure desire and desperation. he will make sure he will pay you back later. now he takes his pulsating dick in his hand, strokes himself twice and lines himself with your needy hole. and when suguru pushes himself inside, he doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his size and buries himself to the hilt. the stretch is painful, you can feel your walls flatter around him trying to accommodate his cock. geto doesn’t give you any time to even think about adjusting when he suddenly pulls away and then bottoms out again. this has been rehearsed so many times that when the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, you forget all about the pain and let out a wanton moan. it’s in the moments like this that dark-haired sorcerer thinks your moans is the only melody that can sooth his troubled mind.
the pace he sets is unforgiving. it’s fast, it’s bruising, it’s almost maddening in the way he pushes himself in and out. and every time his cock leaves your dripping hole, your body just sucks him right back in. suguru’s hair is disheveled, perfect bun he likes to keep his hair in is unkempt and loose hair strands frame his face making him look like pure sin. he’s still holding onto your ankles, turning his head and placing timid kisses there when he pushes inside you especially rough.
“you’re so tight, angel. you’re always so fucking good to me. i’ve molded your cunt to take me so well, huh?” he’s babbling, and you’re drinking up every dirty thing he says to you. “open your mouth.” you do it without a second delay, and take out your tongue too, just like he’s trained you. geto grabs the back of your knees and pushes them onto your body, bringing you into a mating press. this allows him to reach an even deeper angle inside you (you didn’t think it was even possible), and you moan again through your opened mouth. he brings his face close to yours.
“god, you really are ready to take whatever i give you,” geto says through panting breaths and then spits on your tongue. your boyfriend forces your mouth closed, and you swallow without any further instructions. now that suguru is pressed against your chest, he feels so close, that you’re start losing yourself in the warmth his body provides. he speeds up even more, and with the changed position, he now hits the spot inside that makes your whole world spiral. you want to close your eyes but you cannot tear your gaze away from the devil above you – geto’s strands are now stuck to his forehead, sweat is dripping down the sides of his face, and you want to lick him clean. your breathing is shallow as you feel the orgasm starting to build up inside your belly – suguru can feel your walls flatter around him even tighter, and you know it forces him to go over the edge too.
“just like that, baby, it feels so good,” you cry out and suguru kisses you hard and rough. you know it’s because he’s trying not to come so he is distracting himself by your lips; but when you moan again into his mouth like your life depends on the orgasm he is holding off, he knows he cannot edge himself anymore. so he brings thumb to your clit to add the extra stimulation. as soon as you feel his finger on your sensitive nub, you’re grabbing onto the first thing that comes across your hands – suguru’s shoulders, his biceps, the sheet underneath you. the coil inside your tummy snaps, and your orgasm gushes down geto’s cock. your pussy becomes so tight, it’s impossible to hold back anymore so suguru follows right behind you. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm feeling your tight gummy walls suck him dry. your legs are shaking from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and the position you're in, and you try to pull yourself away from being overstimulated.
"baby, 's too much..." you try to let him know but he just kisses you again and keeps circling his thumb on your clit.
"aw, are you saying my girl can't take it anymore?" he hits the gummy spot inside of you again and that almost brings you to tears. you know that it must be almost painful for him as well, his softening dick still throbbing inside you but geto does not seem to care. only once he sees the tears running down the sides of your face that he finally slows down.
you’re trying to catch your breath, slow inhales and exhales to bring yourself back to earth. sorcerer hovers above you, and you can still feel him twitching inside. he brings his gaze to where your bodies connect, the intimacy of vulnerability of this moment making him dizzy. suguru starts pulling out and looks at the mess leaking out of you, the combined releases slowly dripping from your hole and down between your ass cheeks. you whine at the sudden emptiness, and despite the shaking legs, overstimulation and the aftershocks of your first orgasm, you already yearn for another. you flutter your eyelids open and pleadingly look at geto, praying he would know exactly what you need right now. he clearly sees the hunger swimming in your eyes but he loves nothing more but to hear you beg.
“what happened, angel? you’ve been fucked so stupid, you can’t even use your words anymore? i bet that’s true, my dick got you so dumb.” you squirm at his words because no matter how hard you try, his mocking tone makes your pussy tighten around nothing and you whimper. "weren't you the one just crying that you can't take it anymore? dick so good you can't even decide if you want more or not?"
“please sugu…” you ask breathlessly, and suguru chuckles darkly. he doesn’t give in into a simple plea and starts kissing down your neck, making his way in between your boobs and licking the sweat that pooled there. he knows you can do better than this.
“you have to give me more than that, pretty girl. what do you need?” he gathers the dripping cum with his two fingers and pushes them back inside you. at the same time, he takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks on it. the combined feeling of his fingers going in and out your throbbing core and tongue leisurely licking and sucking on your hardened nipple makes you quiver with anticipation. “still not talking, huh?”
suguru draws a circle around your nipple and then bites on it, making you gasp. he releases it and then blows on the wet skin and that sends shivers down your spine. the juxtaposition of hot skin and cold air makes you wetter and you can’t take it anymore. you finally give your lover what he’s been waiting for.
“i want you to clean me, sugu.”
“and how do you want me to do it?”
“with your tongue. please please please, i need it so bad, i really really need, please clean me up 'guru,” you say through tearful voice. it’s not good enough of begging, he will have to teach you (again) better later, but geto is also running out of patience. he wants to taste the sweet mess between your legs, and he wants you to fall apart around his tongue again. so he languidly trails kisses between your breasts, on your stomach and all the way down to your cunt while still pumping his fingers in and out of you. he only stops once he’s face to face with your wanting hole.
“so beautiful, my girl is always so beautiful and ready for me,” and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. he kisses the inside of your thighs first, tickling you with the locks that left his manbun. he didn’t slow his fingers once, adding more speed, curling them so he can reach the spot that makes you lose you breath and wonder if you were made to always be in this position, for him only. he finally brings his mouth to your puffy lips and spreads your folds so he can see the clit dying for his attention. he lightly slaps it, which earns a surprised gasp from you, and then finally licks up from your hole to you clit sucking on your sensitive nub.
the whole world could collapse now and both of you would not care. geto groans from the taste he’s been dying to have ever since he walked through the doors, and you’re sure moans that escape your throat will make the devil blush if he wasn't present in the room with you. suguru starts lapping at your clit: he’s fully in control of long languid strokes of his tongue that makes your ears ring. he adds now a third finger into you, and the stretch is almost painful again even if you took him raw not even 10 minutes ago. raven-haired sorcerer can feel your walls tighten around his fingers again so he keeps abusing that gummy spot inside, curling them just at the right angle, while he’s licking up your lower lips and sucking your pearl.
you grab the hair tie that holds his almost non-existent bun and take it out of his hair letting the long locks drape all over your thighs and frame his face. you glance down and you think he looks absolutely mesmerizing like this – eating you out like it's his life line, your hand in his hair massaging his scalp, suguru’s moans vibrating against your clit. you grind on his face, bringing yourself even closer, desperate to get to the top of the orgasm you started climbing again.
“someone’s so needy,” geto chuckles.
“yes, baby, please, i need to come, please let me come again,” you plead with him, and he finally gives you what you want. suguru speeds up his fingers once again, swirling his tongue near your entrance to catch your release and then up the inner lips back to the clit where he keeps sucking on your almost overstimulated bud. you weave your fingers through his hair and tug, just enough to let geto know you’re very close. your breathing becomes shallow and you want to continue looking at your lover performing his magic but the orgasm waves are threatening to drown you, so you close your eyes and let go.
suguru feels your cunt tighten around his fingers and he withdraws them from your hole so he can drink up your juices instead. he is pushing his tongue inside you, tasting your sweet release, and he can swear he can taste his own cum that he pushed back into you before. you moan out his name over and over again, repeating it like mantra with “please don’t stop” and “this feel so so good” sprinkled in between your incoherent babbling. geto is unrelenting and he fucks you with his tongue through your second orgasm, not missing a single drop you have to offer him.
once he can feel you start to relax, he withdraws from your abused pussy to admire his work: the mess of your combined releases and his spit on your cunt glistens in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, and suguru thinks he’s never seen as anything as beautiful as this. he reaches for the phone in his pants and opens up a camera.
“i would submit a photo of your pussy like this to a modern museum of art if only anyone else was worthy enough to look at it,” geto says as he snaps couple of pictures of your spread legs. the blush creeps up your cheeks and you hide behind your hands (suguru thinks it’s cute he can still manage to make you blush). once he’s satisfied with the results, he climbs back on top of you. geto looks at your fucked out face and thinks this is the only thing worth to be alive for right now. so he kisses you deep and hard hoping you can feel all of him in the kiss. you softly cup his face and kiss him back, tasting yourself on his lips.
suguru pushes himself back to sit down on his knees and takes in your naked body. you look up at him with the gaze full of adoration, hunger, longing and ache, and he is falling in love all over again. geto stands up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom to grab the towel, leaving the room for a minute shortly after to grab you a bottle of water you keep in your mini fridge. you whine lightly at the loss of his body near you but you’re not even given time to complain before suguru is back by your side in a record time.
“drink this, angel.”
“thank you, my love.”
“anything for you.”
he brings the cup to your lips and carefully tips it so you’re not choking on the water. once you down the full glass, he spreads your legs and cleans everything by gently swiping away the residual liquids. you let him take care of you in a way that’s comforting to him, turning you and cleaning you like a porcelain doll he’s scared of breaking.
suguru is always so gentle after sex. no matter how hard he fucks you or how overstimulated he may make you at times, the absolute tenderness in the way he treats you after never fails to tug at your heartstrings. once he determines you’re clean enough to go to sleep now, he throws the towel into your laundry basket and lies down besides you. you turn to face him and press a soothing kiss to his lips.
“i love you.”
“i love you too, sugu. now go to sleep, you need to rest.”
and with that, geto throws his arms around your waist, traps your legs with his legs and brings you so close as if he’s scared you will slip away.
sleep tight, princess. i will see you again in a new world.
Tumblr media
“huh?”
“don’t make me repeat myself. suguru killed everyone in the village and…”
“i heard you the first time. that's why i said, "huh?"
you could see satoru was angry and in denial. and you cannot blame him, after all, he didn’t notice (or didn't want to notice) the abyss that was pulling suguru deeper and deeper every day, it’s no wonder he is in denial of what geto has done, what he has been contemplating of doing for the past year. sure, you wouldn’t have guessed he would take things this far but you saw the darkness slowly seeping through the broken crevices of his façade, you knew it was only a matter of time before he snaps. satoru kept saying something about how this cannot be true but his words sound as if they are coming through a vacuum.
your lack of response makes yaga turn to you. you can see his mouth moving but no words can be distinguished. he calls your name, and you try harder to concentrate on the next question.
“can you hear me? did you know about this?”
“are you asking me if i knew suguru would massacre 112 people?” you snap at him. taking a deep breath, you try controlling the bubbling emotions inside. geto has been on a radio silence for a full week now, and you can’t help but feel hurt and betrayed; and deep down you know that you would never be able to leave him, even if you knew about what he was going to do from the very beginning.
“that’s exactly what i’m asking.”
“no, i didn’t know that. i’d think you have more faith in me that just letting my boyfriend to go on a murder spree.” liar, you think to yourself, you’re such a fucking liar. faith does not mean anything to either of you anymore, and if suguru wanted you to open your chest and give him your heart for his amusement, or if he asked you to drench yourself in the blood of the people he murdered, you would do it in a heartbeat. “and before you ask, i don’t know where he is. he’s been ignoring my calls and messages ever since he took that mission.”
both satoru and yaga let out a deep exhale: satoru’s sounds defeated and almost broken (you think he might be trying to hold back tears); yaga’s is resigned and exhausted. no one speaks anymore, and the silent agreement is made to go separate ways for the day.
you don’t know how to feel about this whole situation. you think you feel hurt, betrayed, shocked. and you know that you’re the only person who feels this way not because suguru committed a crime worthy of death penalty but because he didn’t trust you enough to let you know about his plans in the first place. didn’t the past year two of you spent together show him the depth of your loyalty? did all of the nights spent tangled in sheets meant nothing? when you would let him do whatever he wanted to your body because being lost in the feeling of earthly pleasure was the only way he could feel grounded? you wanted to believe that all of that meant more than just him fucking you to oblivion to forget about the pain tearing him apart. should have you done it differently? maybe made him talk, open up, let you see inside his troubled mind? you’ve been trying to call him and message him every day ever since he ghosted you, and today’s discovery just made the pit inside your heart grow even bigger.
you finally reach your dorm room. you drop on your bed as soon as you step inside, clothes be damned, and grab suguru’s sweater he left on your chair, deeply inhaling his scent. you think about “i love you” he told you the last night you saw him a week ago; you think about all the times he kissed you so deeply, it felt like he was trying to carve out a home somewhere between your teeth. you think about his eyes, and the way they glistened with that special spark every time he looked at you. and you wonder if all of the significant memories of you together were only significant to you.
you body and mind feels heavy so you close your eyes and curl yourself into a fetal position, hugging suguru’s sweater even tighter. the tears start pooling in the corners of your eyes, and you don’t remember when was the last time that you cried yourself to sleep.
Tumblr media
4:35pm
im sorry i haven’t said anything
4:35pm
but this was something i needed to do on my own
4:36pm
pls come to this address ill explain everything
4:36pm
[sent location]
suguru keeps staring at his phone screen. ever since he disappeared a week ago, he’s been ignoring your attempts to contact him. he wanted to make sure that the coast is clear, and all of the ties are cut off before he can contact you again. leaving his best friend behind was painful; but geto is not a child, and he understands that him and satoru will never see eye-to-eye on this matter. that’s why he had to say goodbye to him today the way he did. but leaving you behind? unimaginable. so he feels his anxiety bubbling up when he hasn’t received a response back to the messages he sent you 8 hours ago.
he feels a small tug on his sleeve.
“geto-sama?” a small voice is unsure and almost scared. he looks down at the dark-haired girl. mimiko. her big doe eyes glistening with tears and face is covered with bruises that still haven’t faded: his heart breaks at the sight and he is wondering about how long the abuse was going on for before he discovered them in a cage, locked away like animals. the mere thought of that place fills him with burning rage.
“yes?”
“when will we leave this place? nanako says it reminds her of our old house, and it’s scaring her,” mimiko whispers back. and it’s so quiet, it saddens geto again thinking how many times their little voices were never heard.
“we will leave soon, i promise.”
suguru looks out of the window of this abandoned building. he had to take a temporary cover here before he can figure out what happens next. his thoughts drift back to you. he’s wondering if you’ve been interrogated about his whereabouts yet, if they used any techniques on making you talk. he swears if any of the higher-ups got to you before he could figure out how to leave jujutsu high behind, the massacred village will be the least of their worries.
he wonders if he misread your constant acceptance in the past year. he wonders if you’ll come screaming at him too, asking why he did it and that maybe it’s not too late to come back. but what he is scared of the most is to see the fear in your eyes when you see him again: they should be scared of him, but not you, never you.
suguru thinks about the last night you spent together, and the i love yous exchanged in the darkness of the night. he knows he meant it, he’s sure you meant it too, so what is this sinking feeling growing deeper somewhere inside his ribcage? he thinks it’s fear but a different kind this time – he dreamt of building his new world with you by his side so now that he’s on the silent end of the phone, he fears he was wrong, yet again.
but before geto can drown any deeper in the overwhelming feeling of possible loss, he senses your cursed energy. he springs to his feet, and the very next minute, the door to the room where they are now creaks opened.
“suguru?” your voice pierces through the oppressive silence, and geto releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. he crosses the room in three big steps and hugs you so tight, all the air from your lungs is immediately pushed out.
“god, i am so happy you’re here. i was worried you wouldn’t come when you didn’t respond to my messages.”
“baby, i had to get all of your stuff first, didn’t know if you needed anything, and i had to time when i sneak out without leaving any traces, higher-ups are on high alert now and… wait, you were worried i didn’t respond to your messages?” you point an accusatory finger at him. “what about all the messages and calls you ignored from me for the last week? what about the fact that i am finding out about whatever you’ve been doing from yaga out of all people? i thought you left me, i thought…” you stop yourself as your lips start trembling and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent the tears threatening to fall.
suguru looks at you in shock. he didn’t even consider the fact that this could be a sign of him abandoning you. because how could he? after everything you’ve done for him, unconditionally? after everything he's done for you? didn’t he make it clear that you’re stuck with him, for better or for worse, and that he does not intend on letting you go?
“i’m sorry, i should’ve thought about how things looked from your perspective. i am really glad you’re here now, i will never do something like this to you ever again, i promise,” and he cradles your face in his hands so gently, you really wonder if these are the same hands that are capable of murdering 112 people. “i love you, always and forever.”
“i love you too," he softly whispers. "by the way, i want you to meet someone,” he takes your hand in his and leads you further to the middle of the room. you're just now noticing another presence and then you see them: two little girls huddled together on a couch. they move their gaze from suguru to you as if confirming you're safe to approach.
"mimiko, nanako, this is my girlfriend," geto says your name and the girl slowly repeat it back. you squad down to bring yourself to their face level and gently smile.
"it's very nice to meet you, mimiko and nanako," you ruffle their hair, and suguru realizes that that's exactly the same thing that he did to them the first time he saw them. a warm feeling spreads inside his chest at this thought, something he hasn't felt in a while. "i hope we can be good friends soon!"
the girls are still shy and don't say anything back but they don't look as scared anymore. you bring yourself back to your full height and turn to suguru. he responds to your silent question.
"i saved them during the mission i went on last week. they were locked away in the cage, like goddamn animals," you can see the anger babbling up again so you just put your head in his chest and hug him. geto visibly relaxes and kisses the crown of your head.
"you're my new family now, i don't need anyone else," suguru says, and he fully means it. you don't bring up the real family he killed, or the friends he massacred in his village. you don't bring it up because it won't change a thing for you.
suguru cups your face again, leans down and kisses you on the lips like he has never kissed you before, or like he will never have a chance to kiss you again. it knocks the wind out of you, and your knees go weak so suguru needs to hold you upright. and no matter what anyone else might think or say, this feels right, being here enveloped in his arms, pressed against his chest, tasting nicotine on his tongue. you know this is exactly where you belong – in his arms, between his lips, in his heart, always and forever.
Tumblr media
© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
fatecantstopme · 2 months
Text
Not Good Enough
Tumblr media
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.
Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.
You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.
Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.
Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.
As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.
It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.
Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.
You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.
It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.
Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.
Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.
You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.
In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.
There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.
There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.
Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.
Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.
You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.
You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.
As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.
You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.
Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.
"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.
"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."
"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.
"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.
You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.
Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."
"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.
You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.
Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.
Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.
Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.
"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."
Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.
"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."
Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.
"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."
"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"
Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.
Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.
He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.
In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.
No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.
**********
It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.
This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.
"You're up early," Sam said warmly.
You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."
Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."
You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.
"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"
You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."
He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.
You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.
After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.
Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.
You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.
"You'll--what?"
You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."
He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).
When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.
You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.
Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.
About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.
Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.
After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.
Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.
"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.
"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.
"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.
"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.
"What?"
Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."
"She's in the gym."
"I'm sorry, she's what?"
Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."
"Why?"
"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.
Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"
"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"
Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."
Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.
Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.
As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.
Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.
He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.
You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.
"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."
He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."
He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."
"Why what?"
"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."
You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"
Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."
You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"
Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"
You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."
Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."
"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."
"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."
"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."
Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"
You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.
Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.
You shook your head.
"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."
"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.
"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."
"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."
He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."
"Why now?"
He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.
Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."
You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.
He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.
He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.
His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.
When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."
He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"
You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.
His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.
"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."
No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.
Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"
Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.
You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."
Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."
You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."
He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."
You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.
He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.
"Shower!" you squealed.
He groaned. "Fine, fine."
He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.
"Dean, our clothes--"
"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.
You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.
He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.
"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.
You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.
He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.
He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.
He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.
Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.
Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.
"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.
"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.
He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.
"Dean," you whined.
"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.
"But--"
He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."
Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."
Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.
"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.
He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."
His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.
After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.
"Can I touch you now?" you begged.
He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.
You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.
When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.
"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."
You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.
He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.
"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."
His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.
You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.
You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.
Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.
He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.
"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
You smirked. "It's a natural talent."
He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."
You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"
"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."
Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"
"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.
You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.
"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.
Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."
"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.
"No," you whispered.
"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."
You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.
"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."
While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.
He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.
"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."
You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."
Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."
You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.
"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."
You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.
He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."
You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.
"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."
You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."
"Why don't you come here and do something about it."
Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.
"Not so mouthy now are you?"
"Dean, I--"
"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.
"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.
"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.
He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"
"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."
"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.
"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.
Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.
You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.
"You okay?" he whispered softly.
You nodded.
"Babe," he said in a warning tone.
"I'm okay--keep going."
He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.
"I need you to move, Dean--please."
He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.
"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."
He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.
"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."
He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.
"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."
Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.
He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."
He waited until your hazy eyes met his.
"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"
Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"
"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.
You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.
"Good girl."
You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"
You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.
"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."
"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.
"Who owns this pussy, baby?"
You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.
His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."
"You," you gasped out.
"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."
"Only you," you cried.
"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.
"Please," you whimpered.
"Please what, baby?"
"Let me cum!" you begged.
Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."
"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.
Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."
You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.
He groaned softly. "Love you more."
He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.
It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.
"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.
Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.
"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."
You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.
"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."
"So close," you whimpered.
"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"
"Please, Dean."
"How badly?"
"Dean," you whined.
"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."
"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"
As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.
Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.
Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.
You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.
"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."
"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.
His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.
His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.
After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.
"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."
"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."
Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."
"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."
Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.
He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.
"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"
You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.
"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."
You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.
"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.
"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."
"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."
You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."
He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."
884 notes · View notes
natailiatulls07 · 9 months
Text
Wholesome moments
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Formula one grid & female!driver!reader
Summary - 5 wholesome moments
Warning - none tbh, happy crying?? Being drunk??
Reader drives for RedBull
-
One - Late to post race press
I was in my drivers room, relaxing after a race. Strolling through tiktok when my manager, Emma, rushs in looking annoyed. "Oh hi Emma" I offer her a small smile which seems to only annoy her more.
"What are you doing?!" Her tone angry, by now I was confused. Pointing down to my phone which had a random tiktok playing on repeat. "You have the post race press, it was meant to start ten minutes ago but their waiting on you!" It was only then when I finally looked at the time, she was right.
Jumping up from the leather sofa, rushing out of my room toward the conference room with Emma close behind. Walking in, I could see everyones eyes on me. "Hey...so sorry for my tardiness" Laughing at myself awkwardly whilst everyone soon joined in with laughter.
Sit down in my seat between Fernando and Carlos. "So tell us Y/n what was so important that time fell away from you?" Turning my head to Daniel who had a smug smile on his face.
"Well if you must know Danny, tiktok has become very addictive recently" I wore a sheepish smile on my face as the room once again erupted in laughter.
"See kids these days, hooked to their phone" Daniel replied, shaking his head knowingly. It wsm't long before the laughter died down and we started press with myself in attendance.
Two - Prankster
If there was one thing on the paddock that I was known for it would be my notorious prank on anyone and everyone. LIke one time, I posted a instagram announcing 'my retirement'. This meant that I had my phone blowing up, texts, comments, missed calls and etc. I remember about two minute after I posted the instagram, I could a call from Christian. "Hey Chris!"
"What the hell Y/n?! What is going on with your instagram post?" I had to surpress my laughter and acted somewhat sad. He sounded upset, this made me feel almost sad for him.
"Oh yeah I know that its the middle of the season but I found some thing better for myself.." It was going great, I loved it. After a few seconds of silence, he came back to his sense.
"What could you have possible found that is better than not only driving for Redbull but for formula one?!" His voice was soon becoming more and more annoyed, and what I was about to say would set him off.
It was really hard to surpress myself from laughing when I told him the 'better thing'. "Have you ever heard of dog food tasters?" One could only imagine what his head was going through.
Yet again there was a few seconds of an awakward silence, a silence to sit through and not laugh. "Y/n... you're kidding me, you're the fussiest person I have ever met! And you're going to from fucking formula one and redbull to a dog food taster... you won't even drink coffee, let alone dog food!"
I could no longer hold in my laughter, doubling over I could hear Chris questioning my laugh. "Oh my god! You actually believed me, Christian I'm not leave redbull or formula one. I just pranked you" Dead silence until I heard Christian chuckle.
“I should of known, you little prankster” Let’s just say for the rest of the day, my phone would not turn off. Nearly every other driver on the grid calling, anxiety coursing through their heads.
Three - the little weight
It was the yearly FIA prize giving ceremony, everyone swapped out of their uniforms for gowns and suits. Hair and makeup done.
Sat in the buzzing venue, the night of celebrations meant I had not kept track of the amount of alcohol I was downing. Until I was announced as rookie of the year.
Raising from my seat, I made my way to stage. The crowd were clapping and cheering, I could see the other drivers sporting proud smiles.
Arriving to the mic which sat in the middle of the stage, I was handed my trophy. “Oh wow, thank you! I would like to say that I love you all and I’m that I want to thank Alex Turner for this because he is hot!” All it was rambling, I continued to ramble until Lando stood up from his seat.
“Quick question! Y/n how many drinks have you had?” His voice contained both concerns and amusement.
Holding up my free hand with two fingers, almost proudly. This small gesture made everyone burst into a light laughter. “Oh god! You are so drunk..” Lando trailed off whilst climbing up the stairs before walking me off stage.
“Come on, I think it’s time we start getting some water down you and maybe getting you home” He continued to walk me over to the grand reception where we waited for a taxi and drank some water.
-
Waking up the next morning, I was in my bed. Looking over at my phone, I could see a text from Lando along with other notifications probably regarding last night.
‘Hey kiddo, I managed to get you back to your apartment last night. Maybe next time don’t drink as much
Lots of love your big brother’
Checking social media, I immediately got embarrassment as my drunken ramble went viral.
Four - First F1 podium
“Okay Leclerc and Hamilton have a hot 7 seconds gap between you and them, keep pushing” It was the Austrian race and I had somehow settled myself into p2.
My anxiety was on an all time high when I was racing but currently being in p2 made that anxiety worsen. “Copy..” I was focused on getting that podium.
It would be my first podium, and even if I didn’t stand in pole position I would be happy. “How many laps left?” I asked my race engineer through the radio, I wanted to finish the race as soon as possible.
“Only two laps left, you can do it!” Only two that was reassuring to say the least. I could hear crowd cheering but I didn’t let that next my focus from the p2 spot.
“One lap left! Keep pushing!” One lap. One more lap until could stand on that podium for the first time. I accelerated the car, there was no chance I would catch Max but I had to keep that distance from the Ferrari and Mercedes behind me.
“There’s the checkered flag! You can do!” I could see the line and flag waving in the distance, it was only when I crossed the line that I really let my focus go and come to the realisation that I was on the podium.
“I did it! I fucking did it! P2 baby! That’s what I like to hear!” I could my race engineer laugh at my antics of the radio, whilst also tell me that they were incredibly proud.
-
Standing on the podium, I looked over at the crowd. A large smile was planted on my face. “Kiddo you did it! You’re on the podium!” I heard Max who was of course in p1 exclaim beside me.
I was soon soaked in sweet champagne, I didn’t care if it ruined my hair. All I cared about was the position I finished today’s race with.
Five - P1…oh how I like this view
Once again I was sat in the redbull car, awaiting for my the race to begin. I was very lucky to be granted pole position in Monaco of all places. It was tense as we all waited for the five lights to flash out.
And when the did, I was off leaving the wait line in no time. Tackling every tight curve, accelerating when ever I saw someone even get close to me.
I could feel the blazing sun down on my race suit. I could smell the scent of burning rubber. I could hear crowds who had lined the tracks. I could taste the exhaust filled air. But I felt like I had gone blind, just focusing on the track and maintaining my car from any possible damage.
Whilst in pit stop, my anxiety ran through the heavens. Just wanting to get back on the track and end with my win.
I was up against some of the best of the best. And I had to hold onto the pole position, hold onto that winning position.
“Verstappen is just over 5 seconds behind you so not much of a gap, keep pushing when you can” My race engineer was aware of anxiety when it came to racing, but she was also aware of my hunger for that winning position.
“Copy, how many laps?” Once again I was twisting around the narrow corners.
“Three, if you push the gap bigger you’ll probably win!” That’s was all I needed to give me motivation to push as hard as I can.
Pressing down on the accelerator, I heard the rumbling of my car increase in sound.
-
After three agonising laps, I could see the checkered flag being waved. Tears were welling up on my waterline. It was only when I cross that finish line when I then let them fall down my cheeks.
“I did… I’m first” I whispered, so only myself and my face engineer could hear. It was barely audible over the loud crowds who were cheering me on for my first win.
-
Finally standing above the number felt great. I felt tall, empowered, unstoppable and proud. Everyone was cheering as I was handed the trophy. Off to the side were the rest of the drivers who hadn’t won podium stood smiling up at me.
I felt that familiar family love once again. I always did whether I didn’t place top ten or if I had gotten to that first place position. I would be lying if I didn’t feel that love to them in return.
975 notes · View notes
feyhunter78 · 11 months
Note
Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷
I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)
Pt 3
Pink Pastels Pt 2
Tumblr media
Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.
No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.
This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.
The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.
The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.
“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”
“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.
You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.
Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.
You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.
A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.
And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.
“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.
He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.
“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.
How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?
“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”
“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.
“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”
Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.
“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.
“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”
Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.
“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.
“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.
“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.
He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”
She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”
If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.
“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.
She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.
Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.
He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.
“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”
“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.
He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.
“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground
1K notes · View notes
strictlyfavorites · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
George Carlin's wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's - could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate.
An observation by George Carlin:
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.
These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.
Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.
George Carlin
990 notes · View notes
highvern · 6 months
Text
Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Genre: fluff, suggestive, idiots in love, they’re both big ol’ chickens
Warnings: drinking
Length: ~1k
Note: idiots to lovers is my favorite trope :) I might write some drabbles based on this pair in the future
Sequel: Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II
Related Drabbles:
Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]
Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]
“You’re cute.” You giggle, dragging out the last syllable in a whine.
Mingyu’s blood freezes, caught between wanting to feed into your drunken stupor and wanting to push you off completely. You’re too close. The smell of your shampoo and perfume clouding his nose, palm burning against the muscle of his chest, teasing smile and hooded gaze drawing him in. The booth in the corner of the packed club was a godsend after hours of dancing and drinking but now Mingyu thinks it might be the place where he dies from cardiac arrest.
You two had been friends for years but lately your relationship toed the line. The friendly dynamic shifted at some point, subtle at the time but echoing loud and clear now. Like a stream changed into rapids before you noticed, sucking one in and swallowing them whole. Lingering touches gave way to heated gazes; tension palpable but never acknowledged. And because neither of you said anything, nothing ever happened; one person always retreating before reaching the point of no return.
Of course the first time you admit any sort of attraction to him is when you’re three sheets to the wind and can barely stand straight. Mingyu himself is no better, mind fogged with the liquor pumping through his veins courtesy of the shots Soonyoung kept distributing. Mingyu can’t speak, tongue dry from the words dying in his throat. All he can see, smell, and feel is you; pressed against him in a way that is less than friendly.
You don’t even bother to conceal the way your eyes are trained on Mingyu’s mouth, mind far away. All your thoughts focus on if his lips are as soft as they look. If you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? Would he let you touch him? Would he touch you?
Mingyu watches with baited breath as you lean infinitesimally closer, eyes sliding shut, chin lifting slightly. But you’re drunk, and the grace you think you possess left the building long ago. You end up collapsing face first into Mingyu’s neck, lips sliding against the hot skin causing the muscles underneath to jump in surprise. You’ve already accepted the change of direction, now content to take a rest in the crook of his shoulder as the thud of music lulls you closer to sleep.
“W—“ Mingyu clears his throat, “we should go.”
You hum in agreement but make no effort to move away.
“Y/N, baby,” he shakes you gently, “let’s go home.”
With Herculean effort, and gentle prodding from your best friend, you leave the safety and warmth of Mingyu’s body to shimmy out of the booth. When Mingyu gets up after you, he places his hand to the small of your back to guide you to the exit.
Once outside, you wrap around each other again, like magnets that can’t be pulled apart. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Mingyu uses his free hand to order an Uber, resting his chin on your head while the app loads.
“We didn’t say bye to everyone.” You mumble into his T-shirt.
“They’ll be fine.” Mingyu laughs, focusing on his phone.
“You said that last time and Chan still called at 3am to ask if we got home safe.”
We. The simple word has Mingyu’s ears turning red. We, like you’re a couple. We, like you're going home to an apartment you share rather than the one you live alone in and he finds himself crashing at more and more frequently. He brushes off the thought, choosing to focus on getting a car as soon a possible.
Not one to be ignored, you turn your gaze upwards, chin now resting against Mingyu’s sternum. The shift breaks his attention from his phone and he looks down his nose at you.
“Just text the group, pretty sure a few of them left already anyway.” He dares to drop a quick kiss to your furrowing brow, pleased when it relaxes under his lips.
“Ubers here.” Mingyu steps back, snagging your hand to pull you behind him.
The ride home is a blur. The heat of Mingyu’s arm under your cheek and the way his fingers play with yours on his lap keep you from falling asleep completely but you remain in the hypnotic state between wakefulness and dreams. Here you can pretend Mingyu is your doting boyfriend, that all the sweet drunk kisses and daring touches have a deeper meaning.
When you feel the car slow to a stop you open your eyes to the driver pulling up to the curb in front of your apartment. Mingyu is gently ushering you out of the backseat and into the warmth of the lobby as quickly as possible.
While waiting for the elevator, you invade his space once more. In your mind, the need for warmth is the perfect excuse to disregard the usual touching limit you impose on yourself. It’s easy to get addicted to having Mingyu like this and you dread the hurt that’ll come if you let yourself be too greedy. But tonight, you let your arms wrap around his waist once again and fall into him.
When the elevator chimes its arrival, Mingyu tries to keep your bodies intertwined and walk you backwards into the compartment. He stumbles the entire way, having to balance for two since you’re barely trying to hold yourself up. All you can do is whine at him to be more careful and he does everything he can not to crowd you against the wall and kiss you until you’re both gasping for air.
More stumbles, more giggles, and a crushed foot later, you finally make it into your apartment. Shoes discarded at the door, you pull Mingyu down the hall to your room. You change into your pajamas in silence, an oversized T-shirt for you (Mingyu doesn’t comment on the fact that it looks suspiciously like the one he noticed missing weeks ago), and a pair of sweat shorts for him (you don’t comment on how his bare chest is giving you less than friendly thoughts). As you both dive under the covers, moving to settle yourselves amongst the soft sheets, sleep rushes to takeover.
You’re mumbling something against Mingyu’s chest that he can’t quite decipher but the movement of your lips on his bare skin makes his heart lurch and his stomach twist in knots. However, it's the gentle kiss you leave on his collarbone before drifting into your dreams that leaves his mind in a tailspin.
Tomorrow. He thinks. He’ll tell you everything he’s feeling tomorrow.
814 notes · View notes
Text
The Good Queen
Tumblr media
(Gif not mine)
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)
Tag: hotd the good queen
Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.
Word Count: 3,901
Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicent’s older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.
Author’s Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.
(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)
It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/n’s plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.
However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldn’t stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserys’ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didn’t take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.
The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, “What have you done?”
“Done?” Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.
“He was supposed to marry your sister.”
“Why would he want Alicent, Father?” Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, “She’s but a child.”
“In the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.”
“So am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?”
“She’s the most comely lady in court.”
“If you think me ugly, Father,” she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, “Just say it and be done with it.”
“I had wished to marry you off to your cousin.”
“Ormund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. You’re a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.”
The insult strained their relationship if it hadn’t been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.
It wasn’t long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemma’s sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.
At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friend’s sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserys’ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princess’ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.
“You may be the Hand of the King,” Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, “But I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.”
And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.
Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin “Breakbones” Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her father’s pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.
Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to King’s Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.
Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldn’t afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.
If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldn’t blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.
Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of King’s Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.
However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicent’s unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldn’t dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.
“No,” Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, “Absolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.”
“If you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,” Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Council’s table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, “But she is your heir, and she’s no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.”
“Others will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,” Viserys retorted.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.”
She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/n’s hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, “He’s not worthy of her...”
“No,” Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, “But he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. She’ll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.”
The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyra’s engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didn’t comment.
Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to King’s Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.
Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sister’s room.
Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.
Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesn’t miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though she’s intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each other’s side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.
For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesn’t say a word to Viserys, but she’s seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.
Daemon and Rhaenyra’s firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegon’s birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.
More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/n’s last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.
Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserys’ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen children’s dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.
As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didn’t sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boy’s sword slashed across Aemond’s eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.
The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemond’s chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemond’s eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.
The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her son’s side as he explained, “I have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.”
The Queen sits on the edge of Aemond’s bed, “It will heal, will it not?”
“The flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”
Y/n’s face crumbles in distress, taking Aemond’s hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, “What happened?”
“An accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.”
“Luke cut me!” Aemond cried in anger, “He cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldn’t take it! I wish I had!”
"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, “You don’t mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.”
She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"
Her lightheartedness softens Aemond’s anger, slightly, as he relents to his mother’s touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."
She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.”
The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, “Grand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my son’s chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.”
“At once, Your Grace,” the maester bows then exits the room.
Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, “Be hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."
She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."
"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."
After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, “Come along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.”
A picnic was made in Aemond’s bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.
After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.
"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"
Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."
~~~
Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.
Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.
Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.
There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.
~~~
A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.
Part Two
3K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 5 months
Note
Can you make a one shot smut where like reader and Chan like REALLY hate each other, like CANNOT stand each other but like while reader is out partying she like sees Chan so for shits and giggles she goes up to him and flirts with him which ends up w Chan subbing and begging to cum. I’d like to be 🪼 anon pls :3 and ty if you do this !! 🙏🏼
I love the hate concept (I'm literally obsessed with hate sex), thank you for the ask ❣️ I hope you like it, I'm not really good with smut but I'm trying to get better!!
Something bad
Pairing: Bangchan x reader
Words count: 2,006
THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: switch!Chan, switch!reader, hate relationship, handjob
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You hate his guts. Bang Chan thinks he's all that, but in your opinion he's actually an asshole. You have known each other for so long you're not sure if you always hated him, but if not, you don't know when it started.
He's your brother's best friend, so he is always around, teasing you, making jokes about your hair in the morning or even bringing his hookups late at night, banging them in his room so loudly as if he wants you to hear how good he's making them feel.
You listen to everything from the guest room you sleep in when visiting and the smug look on his face when he sees your eyebags the next morning make you even more mad.
He's not much different from you, Chan likes to see your reactions, how red you get when you're angry about the simplest things he does to tease you or even how you avoid his eyes when you find him at the front door in the morning, saying goodbye to the people he fucked.
He'll look at you waiting for a complaint about the noise but you just look everywhere but his face. He loves that, love that your feisty attitude dies down after hearing him going on all night long. You're back to your usual self by lunch time, that's why he keeps bringing people every night when you visit, he wants to make you angry.
You're currently looking for an apartment, you just got out of uni and got a nice job, so you're staying with your brother just until you can sign the lease of the apartment you're renting with your two best friends.
They invited you to go out tonight, have some fun, maybe fuck a hot random stranger or just pass out drunk anywhere but your brother's house. Literally anything is a better option than another sleepless night of Chan fucking someone senseless and making you horny.
You would never, ever, admit this out loud, but the way you can hear him groaning sometimes when you get close to his room, just messes with your head. He IS an attractive man, even though you hate him, you cannot deny he is hot. Beautiful dark wavy hair, nice broad shoulders and that physic is just… you just know he could break you in half if he wanted to.
You shake your head, why are you having these strange thoughts again? He's your brother's best friend and the guy that makes your life a living hell every time you're in his house. Is it because he's here? Out of all places, why did he and his friends decide to come to the same party as you and your friends did?
“Should we go home?” You sigh, making your friends glare at you.
“Not even a chance”, Sana says, making you sigh. “Should we play a game? Maybe that will get you to relax”
She exchanges a glance with Yeji, smirking. You're already kinda dizzy from your previous drink, so you're not sure you understand what that look means. But you nod, drinking games are your thing, you love them all.
It was all premeditated, you're sure your friends knew Chan would be there with his crew, they are acquainted, after all. You know it was all planned when Yeji giggled, saying “I dare you to flirt with Chan”. Sana laughed so hard at your face after hearing that, saying “we are talking about a hard flirting, literally get a hard on out of him”
That's how you ended up walking in his direction now, feeling your face warm, at least the alcohol makes you feel more secure about yourself. You're looking hot today, wearing a tight short black dress with a neckline lower than how you usually wear, exposing a good piece of your skin and breast. You're sure you can pull Chan.
He stares at you up and down when you show up in front of him, you look smoking hot. He knows you're attractive, it's such a shame you're so annoying.
You greet his friends, you know all of them since they come buy a lot to your brother's and Chan apartment.
“Can I have a sip?” You ask Chan, sitting by his side at the booth. His friends look at each other, saying something you can't hear because of the loud music and then going to the dance floor.
“What do you want?” He ignores your question, scowling when you do the same to him, grabbing his drink and tasting it.
“Woah, this is bitter just like you”, you smile seeing him rolling his eyes.
“Are you drunk? Should I call your brother?” He asks, sighing.
“No, Channie”, you pout, calling the nickname you've heard so many people scream when they were fucking, “let's have some fun, hm? What do you think?”
You turn your body to stare at him, putting your hand on his chest, snuggling closer to him. He smells nice and the warmth his body emits makes you want to get even closer.
“What game are you playing?” He asks with a smug smile on his lips, brows lifted in question.
You sigh.
“It's truth or dare”, you tell, rolling your eyes. “Can't you just get hard already so I can be done?”
Chan chuckles, throwing his head back in a loud laugh, you know it's loud because you can hear it even with the loud music playing in the background.
“Do you really think you have what it takes to get me hard, little girl?” He asks playfully, making you scowl.
“Of course I do”, you tell him, crossing your arms.
You can't help but notice the look he sneaks at your breasts almost popping out of your dress. You decide to use that, in your favor.
“Do you wanna touch it, Channie?” You ask, touching your chest with your hands and squeezing your breasts up so he can have a better view.
“If I do get hard”, he clears his throat, “you should think about the consequences of what is going to happen after that”
“I will win the dare and go back to my friends”, you shrug.
Chan smiles, diabolically. Clicking his tongue.
“I don't think so”, he turns to you, sliding his hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh while he gets closer to your face. “If you do manage to get me hard, I'll take you home and you're going to take care of it. So you better think carefully about your next move”
You feel goosebumps all over your body, it's because you're grossed out, right? You would never feel turned on with Chan speaking so closely to you, his hot breath hitting your skin has nothing to do with the warmth growing in your lower stomach.
“You know what I think, Channie?”, you try to take back control over the situation, “you're afraid your best friend's little sister is going to make you so horny you won't be able to do anything other than beg to cum”, you slide your hand to the hem of his shirt, sliding it under the fabric and brushing your nails on his stomach, close enough to his cock to provoke a reaction out of him.
Chan breaths through his teeth, trying to control himself. He tried being confident, saying those things to you so you'd get scared and go back to your friends. He didn't think you would keep going and now he's not so sure about what he said, since you clearly are managing to get him hard.
He slides his hand under your dress, feeling how wet your underwear is and decides to use that in his favor.
“Are you sure you want to keep this up?” He asks, brushing his fingers over your covered cunt. You don't avoid his gaze, staring at him intensely, you're not going to give in. He smirks, well, if he can't escape this, he better have some fun. “Let’s see who's gonna be the one begging”
You're not sure how the hell you got there, in a moment Chan was whispering something to you and the next he was dragging you to the bathroom, throwing you against the wall. His lips are attached to your neck, sucking so hard you're sure it's gonna leave marks. Your body is pressed against his and you feel his hard cock on your stomach, now that you manage to get him hard it's time to stop it, so why is the only sound that comes out of your mouth muffled moans?
He slides his hands under your skirt, moving your underwear to the side while he presses a finger on your clit.
You have to do something, you need to take control. Your hand touches his covered cock and Chan groans, resting his head on the wall. He hates the idea of leaning on you.
You work fast, unbuttoning his pants and sliding your hand under his underwear, grabbing his cock in a fist, going up and down, feeling his cock twitching in your hand.
Chan was too cocky, he shouldn't have let you do this. Your touch is just too good, he can't help but moan subtly with every stroke you give to his dick.
He's growing restless, even though he's working with his fingers on you he knows it's a lost case. Your hand is soft, massaging his cock gently but firmly and the look in your eyes, like you're watching your prey, the way you have your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, enjoying seeing him panting while you play with him, it's just too much for him. He feels his orgasm getting closer, you can tell by the way his cock is twitching so you slow the speed of your hand, earning a frustrated groan from him.
“Do you like it, Channie?” You ask playfully, watching his voice crack when he tries to speak.
“Stop teasing, you fucking brat”, he grunts.
“That's not what I want to hear, baby”, you say as your index finger twirls over the head of his cock. “Do you wanna cum?”
He nods, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow, he can't believe he's humiliating himself like that.
“Tell me”, you smirk, “tell me what you want, be a good boy for me, yeah?”
You're feeling extra confident now, seeing him whimper when you get back to jerking him off.
“L-Let me cum”, he whispers too low, you're not even sure if you heard him.
“You can do better, Channie”, you tell him, fastening your movements.
“Please”, he whimpers, “let me cum”, he throws his head back, he doesn't want to give in so easily but your hand around him is just divine, he wants to cum so badly he doesn't mind begging at that moment.
“More”, you tell him simply, “beg more”
“Please, I just-” he whimpers.
“Are you going to stop being so mean to me?” You ask, trying to get something out of this, since you have him so vulnerable right now.
He nods frantically, needing his release more than anything. You keep jerking him off faster, while watching him moan, your hand going up and down on his cock.
His cum springs all over your hands, while he groans with faltering movements, trying to calm down from his high. You're almost sure you heard him sob, but if that really happened, he hid it really well.
After cleaning up the mess he made on your hand, you look at him with a pretentious victorious smile.
“I guess I won”, you cross your arms in front of your chest and Chan sighs, not able to look you in the eyes. Acting exactly like you do when you find him and his last fuck in the living room of his apartment.
“Let's just pretend this never happened”, he tells you, turning around and going out of the bathroom.
But you're not so sure if you'll be able to leave him alone now that you tasted this side of him.
Tumblr media
608 notes · View notes