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#do not ask me what it is i eventually gave up so i could just work on the rest of this in PEACE lmao
stylesispunk · 3 days
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'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part iv.
Joel Miller x f!reader
previous chapter
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Summary: You and Joel have your happy ending. w.c: 6,7k>
warnings: smut (sorry I'm not the best at writing smut), fluff, angst. time jump. Perhaps grammar mistakes because I didn't check grammar. Not the best piece of writing but now my mind is wandering on another story.
a/n: Part 4 and last one is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave to this one, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. I may write for these two to clarify some things, or some details of their lives after this ending. If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or ask! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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"I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right," he said softly, his thumbs gently caressing your cheek.
You nodded, a tear escaping down your cheek as you smiled up at him. "I believe you, Joel. And I want to try too. I want us to be together.
He pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "We will," he whispered into your hair. "We'll take it one day at a time, but we'll do it together."
For a while, you simply held each other, finding solace in the closeness. Eventually, you led Joel to the couch, where you both sat down, still reluctant to let go.
"I've missed you so much," you admitted, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Every day felt incomplete without you."
"I missed you too," he replied, his voice tender. "Every day I thought about you, regretting the decisions I made that pushed you away." Joel smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart swell. "Agreed," he said. "We'll make it right this time." He said, capturing your lips with a feverish kiss.
As Joel's lips met yours in a feverish kiss, a rush of emotions swept over you. It was a kiss filled with longing, passion, and the promise of a new beginning. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth and intensity of Joel's love.
You melted into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and the taste of his love filling your senses. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying a silent vow to make things right and to never let go of each other again.
As you pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you looked into Joel's eyes and saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you. He clutched your hips and pushed you against the door, shutting your mouth with his own for a hungrier kiss as if he wanted to devour you right here. Your fingers tangled into his dark locks, and he seemed to enjoy it because he released a heavy groan into your mouth, and you drank all those heavenly sounds with pleasure.
“I’m just gonna eat you,” he said, laughing, biting your bottom lip as you laughed lowly.
“That’s what I’m waiting for” you replied.
Both of you were out of breath as he cupped your face and brushed his thumbs against your cheeks like he was the most delicate thing he’d ever held.
Everything happened so quickly that neither of you realized how you'd gotten rid of your clothes, but you missed each other too much to even consider how this might have happened. He held you up against the wall, both of your legs wrapped around his waist so he could thrust fast into you while biting onto your collarbone. you were now moaning. Your head tossed back, and your nails left clear lines of red on his bare back, but this only fueled him, allowing him to pound his hips with greater urgency.
His hands were strong, but his touch was gentle. It was all over you including her face, chest, heart, and mind fantasies.
He was everywhere. You were battling to breathe while simultaneously feeling extremely lively. His fingertips touched your hot flesh, grazing with flames. Even as you burned, you clung to him like he was your lifeline.
He grasped your waist and continued to rock into you. The sound of your name slipped through his lips, mingled in with the groans and nasty words that made your cheeks flush and your eyes roll in delight. But in between the passion and filth, he expressed how much he loved and missed you.
You tried not to pay attention to those words as you tossed your head back, gasping for air, feeling your climax grow so close that your body began shaking against his. Your thoughts quickly went blank, and your toes curled as you shouted out his name, feeling his release not long after you ended. His thrust became sluggish and slow. It wasn't until he stopped that you fell back into reality.
He kissed the corner of your lips tenderly once you both had regained your breathing pace. He opened his eyes to yours. The gentleness of those brown eyes left a lump in your throat as he walked you over to your bedroom to lay you down on your bed.
“I love you so fucking much.”
Those words came again. He sounded out of breath when he spoke, and the raspiness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
“I love you,” he mumbled again, this time crashing his lips with yours for what felt like a thousandth time. You then lifted your leg to his hips as you reached down to take him in your palm, and that sudden movement made his breath hitch.
He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, as if it could serve as a reminder that you were now each other's half.
He began caressing your breasts while inhaling fiercely into your exposed shoulder, dragging his hands down your hips to your stomach. You scorched your back, moaning his name, and he felt like he was going insane at the sight of you under his gaze, like this. His body between your legs offered him easier access to the image he wanted to keep in his thoughts every day.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his finger go down your body to the spot you wanted him the most. You were soaked, and he lost control of the sensation of you gripping around his digits. He attached your lips, groaning into the kiss, and began pumping his fingers, gradually increasing the pace as well. You had your hand behind his neck, panting for air but maintaining eye contact, watching him go insane at the sight of you.
"Joel, I…"
"I know baby… I know…" He breathed into your mouth and pulled out his fingers, causing you to gasp at the loss of his touch. In a short second, he managed to go down and kiss every single inch of kissing every inch of your body, till he reached your tights and placed his tongue on your core. You moaned loudly, arching your back and slowly moving your hips into Joel's tongue.
The bedroom swiftly became crowded with your moans and Joel's tongue lapping at your drenched pussy. He groaned beneath you.
Your fingers grasped his hair locks
"Good girl," he replied.
"Fuck! I'm.." You stuttered. He accelerated his rhythm and sucked as if it were his favorite thing in the world.
Soon after, you came. He licked you clean before slowly licking his way back up your body. Until your lips met in a wet kiss.
"You're my favorite person," he replied, a satisfied smile falling off his lips. He lay next to you in bed, and you both glanced at each other.
"Let's do it again sometime?" You made a joke.
"Why not now?" He asked.
You let him kiss you again, and your hands traveled to his neck once again.
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Waking up next to Joel felt strange, not for the wrong reasons or the rust that had grown between you after a year of no communication, but because this time you allowed yourself to be his. The vulnerability was both exhilarating and terrifying.
The smell of his cologne lingered on your pillow, a comforting reminder of his presence. You reached out to touch the space where he had been, but the warmth was fading. Fear crept within your body, a gnawing anxiety that whispered, "What if he regretted and left?"
Your heart pounded as you sat up, scanning the room for any sign of him. Panic began to settle in until you heard the faint clinking of dishes from the kitchen. You slid out of bed, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you as you made your way towards the sound.
In the kitchen, Joel stood by the stove, his back to you, humming softly as he cooked breakfast. Relief washed over you, bringing tears to your eyes. He hadn’t left.
There he was, only in a pair of jeans, in the middle of your kitchen, preparing breakfast for the both of you.
He turned, a smile breaking across his face, when he saw you. "Morning, baby," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I thought I’d make us some breakfast."
You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek against his back. "I was scared you’d gone," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel turned in your arms, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I’m not going anywhere," he said firmly, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. "I’m here”
Do you think I am a bad person?" You asked, your voice muffled as you hid your face against his neck.
Joel's body stiffened, and he gently pulled back to scan your face, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Wha—oh my god, what are you talking about?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for understanding.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions swirling inside you. "I mean, we both did things. Tess, my boyfriend...”
Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening. "You did nothing wrong," he interrupted firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "We were both trying to navigate a difficult situation, and we made mistakes, but that doesn't make you a bad person."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his unwavering support and love bringing a sense of relief you hadn't felt in a long time. "I just... I feel so guilty," you admitted, your voice cracking. "For hurting others, for leaving you without a proper goodbye.” You paused for a moment. “I wasted a whole year, Joel.”
Joel’s gaze softened even more, and he pulled you into a tighter embrace. “You didn’t waste anything,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “We both needed that time to understand what we truly wanted and to realize how much we meant to each other. That year apart was hard, but it brought us here to this moment.”
You sniffled, burying your face in his shoulder. “But it hurts knowing I left like that. I should have stayed and fought for us.”
He gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. We both made mistakes. But what matters now is that we’re here, together, and we have the chance to make things right. We can’t change the past, but we can shape our future.”
You nodded, the tears slowing as you felt a sense of peace wash over you. “I want that, Joel. I want to build a future with you.”
Joel smiled, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and love. “Me too,” he said softly. “And we’ll do it, one step at a time, together.”
You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, sealing the promise of a new beginning. As you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath match your own.
“Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of your guilt and fear beginning to lift. “For loving me,” you said, your voice steady and free from the guilt and fear that had once plagued you.
Joel's eyes softened, and his expression filled with warmth and understanding. “Always,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
You both stayed silent for a while, savoring the closeness and the unspoken bond that had grown even stronger through your trials. The sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden glow into the room, and with it, a new day began—a day filled with hope and the promise of a love that could weather any storm.
As you nestled closer to Joel, you felt his arms tighten around you protectively. “Can you go back to bed, please?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.
You chuckled. “Why?”
“I actually planned to bring you breakfast in bed, and you kind of ruined my surprise,” he said humorously, a playful glint in his eyes.
A warm, genuine laugh bubbled up from within you. “Oh, did I now? I guess I can pretend to be asleep,” you teased, your smile widening.
Joel grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s the spirit. Now, back under the covers, and no peeking.”
You playfully rolled your eyes but complied, snuggling back into the warm bed. “I’m not peeking, promise,” you called out, feigning a yawn for good measure.
Joel kissed your forehead before slipping out of the room. You lay there, a smile lingering on your lips, feeling a sense of joy and contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time.
A short while later, you heard the sounds of clinking dishes, the faint aroma of coffee, and something delicious wafting from the kitchen. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter for both of you.
Finally, you felt the bed dip slightly as Joel returned, a tray in his hands. “Breakfast is served,” he announced softly.
You opened your eyes to see him setting a tray laden with pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee on the bed. Your heart swelled with affection as you took in the sight.
“This looks amazing, Joel,” you said, reaching for his hand.
He sat down beside you, a contented smile on his face. “This is only the first breakfast of the million I’ll give to you.”
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Three years later, Joel and you were happily married, living a life filled with love, laughter, and countless shared memories. On the morning of Joel's 35th birthday, he woke up around 5 a.m., immediately noticing your absence. The usual warmth of your presence beside him was missing, and concern tugged at his heart.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and listened. The faint sound of retching came from the bathroom. Alarmed, he quickly got out of bed and headed towards the sound. He found you kneeling in front of the toilet, your face pale and sweaty.
"Hey, what's going on?" Joel asked, his voice filled with concern as he kneeled beside you.
You looked up at him with a weak smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Happy birthday," you said softly, trying to inject some cheer into your voice despite feeling miserable.
Joel frowned, his worry deepening.
Joel’s concern didn't waver. “Then can you go back to bed and rest?” he pleaded.
You shook your head. “No, I should start getting ready for work.”
Joel's brow furrowed with worry and frustration. “Can you find a substitute?”
“Sure, at 5 a.m.,” you replied with a weak chuckle.
Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please, just try to rest a little longer. We can figure out work later.”
You nodded, feeling the exhaustion creep over you. “Okay, I’ll lay down for a bit.”
Joel helped you to your feet and guided you back to the bed, tucking you in gently. He kissed your forehead, his worry evident but tempered by the love in his eyes. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said softly.
As you lay back down, you watched Joel move around the room, his concern for you touching your heart. Despite feeling miserable, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you,” you whispered.
Joel turned to you, his eyes softening. “Anything for you,” he replied.
Later that morning, you both woke up to the sound of Sarah yelling from downstairs. “Dad! Breakfast is ready! Come on, it's your birthday!” Her voice carried a mix of excitement and impatience.
Joel stirred beside you, groaning slightly as he rubbed his eyes. “Guess we better get up,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.
You bolted upright, suddenly alarmed. “Oh my God, I’m late for work!” You scrambled out of bed, panic setting in as you realized how much time had passed.
Joel reached out, grabbing your arm gently. “Hey, take it easy. You’re not feeling well, remember? Just call in sick today.”
You hesitated, your mind racing with the thought of your responsibilities. But Joel's steady gaze and calming presence made you pause. “I wish I could, but I can’t; I don’t have a substitute.”
Joel sighed, understanding the weight of your responsibilities but still worried about your health. "I know it's tough, but your health is more important right now. You can't take care of others if you're not taking care of yourself."
You bit your lip, torn between your sense of duty and Joel's concern. Finally, you nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I'll call in and explain. Maybe they can find someone to cover for me."
Joel smiled, relieved. "Good. Let's go downstairs and have breakfast with Sarah first, then you can make that call."
You both got out of bed and made your way downstairs, where Sarah was already seated at the table, beaming with pride over the breakfast she had prepared.
"Happy birthday, Dad!" Sarah exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "I made your favorite!"
The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air, making you twist and feel nauseous. Before you even realized it, you ran towards the bathroom.
Joel's eyes widened in concern as he watched you bolt towards the bathroom. He quickly turned to Sarah, giving her a reassuring smile. "Hey, sweetie, can you wait here for a minute? I'll be right back."
Sarah nodded, her excitement dampened by worry. "Is she okay? But she loves the pancakes I make."
"She does," Joel said, trying to sound confident. "Just stay here and enjoy breakfast for now, okay?"
He hurried to the bathroom, finding you hunched over the toilet, retching. He kneeled beside you, rubbing your back soothingly. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe."
You gasped, trying to catch your breath between bouts of nausea. "I'm sorry, Joel. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”
Joel shook his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Nothing is wrong. Just rest, okay?"
After a few minutes, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool bathroom tiles, exhausted. Joel handed you a glass of water, and you took a few sips gratefully.
"I really think I wasn’t able to go to school” you admitted, your voice shaky. "But I feel so guilty."
Joel brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Don't. You need to rest and take care of yourself. I'll explain things to Sarah.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. "Okay.”
Joel helped you to your feet, and you slowly made your way back to the bedroom, where you sat on the edge of the bed while Joel returned to the kitchen to talk to Sarah.
"Hey, kiddo," he said, sitting down beside her. "Mom's not feeling well, so she needs to rest today.”
“I could stay to take care of her, you know?”
“Oh no. You’re not missing school lady”
Sarah looked a bit disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Okay, Dad. I just hope she feels better soon."
Joel smiled at her. "She will, thanks to your great breakfast. Now, finish up and get ready for school."
As Sarah ate her breakfast, the front door opened, and Tommy walked in, carrying a bag of groceries. "Morning, everyone!" he called out cheerfully. But his smile faded as he noticed the tension in the room. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Joel stood up, walking over to his brother. "Hey, Tommy, missus is not feeling well this morning."
Tommy's concern was immediate. "Is she okay? Do you need me to take Sarah to school?"
Joel shook his head. "As much as I would love to stay, we need to work Tommy “
Tommy set the groceries on the kitchen counter and turned to Sarah, giving her a warm smile. "Alright, kiddo, grab your stuff. We need to go."
Sarah beamed.
Joel watched them for a moment. He then made his way back to the bedroom, where you were lying down, looking pale but resting.
"Hey, Tommy arrived. We’re leaving” Joel said softly, sitting down beside you.
You nodded. "Okay”
Joel took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just rest now. Call me if you need anything”
As you closed your eyes, Joel stayed by your side. A short while later, the door creaked open again, and Joel looked up to see Tommy poking his head in. "Hey, everything okay in here?"
Joel nodded. "Yeah, she's resting.”
Tommy stepped into the room; his expression serious but supportive. "Anytime. Does she need anything else? I can stick around, run errands, whatever you need."
Joel shook his head, grateful for his brother's offer. "We're good for now. Just knowing you're around is enough."
Tommy smiled. "Alright. Let’s go”
As Tommy left the room, Joel turned his attention back to you. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, watching as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
Joel lingered by your side for a moment, his hand gently caressing your hair. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, "Bye, love. Get some rest." He stood up, quietly exiting the room to give you the peace and quiet you needed.
In the kitchen, Tommy was waiting, leaning against the counter. "You sure you’re, okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.
Joel nodded, though he still looked worried. "Yeah, just trying to keep everything together. Let’s go.”
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In the afternoon, you and Joel found yourselves at the supermarket, browsing the aisles to pick up a few things for his birthday. You had insisted you were feeling better, but Joel remained cautious, frequently reminding you to take things slow.
"How about we get some of that fancy cheese you like?" Joel suggested steering the cart towards the dairy section.
You smiled, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Sure, that sounds great."
As you turned the corner into the produce aisle, you suddenly came face-to-face with Tess. She looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her.
Tess's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted you and Joel, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She was holding a child in her arms, and for a moment, you felt a pang of insecurity as you noticed how fondly Joel was looking at the little one.
"Hey," Tess said, her voice tinged with awkwardness. "I didn't expect to run into you guys here."
You forced a smile, trying to mask your own discomfort. "Yeah, same here. How have you been?"
"I've been good," Tess replied, her smile genuine as she glanced down at the child in her arms. "This is Max, my son."
You couldn't help but notice how Joel's expression softened as he looked at the child. It made you wonder—had you and Joel ever talked about having children? Or how you ruined his chance of having children with Tess when you decided to confess your feelings those years ago.
Tess continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil. "I have been in a relationship for 2 years now," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Things have been going really well."
You nodded, trying to keep your composure. "That's great to hear."
Joel spoke up, his voice warm, as he addressed Tess. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you."
“I see you are still pretty close friends,” she said. A hint of venom taunted you as she looked at you, then back at Joel.
Joel's expression remained composed as he reached for your hand, responding to Tess's remark. "Actually, we are married.”
Tess's eyes widened in surprise, and you could see a flash of disbelief cross her face before she quickly composed herself. "Oh, I see," she said, her tone masking any hint of her true feelings. "Congratulations."
You felt a surge of relief knowing that Joel had made it clear that you two were more than just friends. But the mention of Tess's son and her long-term relationship stirred up a mix of emotions within you.
Joel glanced at you, silently communicating his support, before turning back to Tess. "It's been good running into you, Tess. Take care."
With that, Joel steered the cart away, leaving Tess behind in the aisle. You followed silently, feeling a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside you. It was clear that seeing Tess and her son had brought up some unresolved feelings and questions, ones that you knew you needed to address with Joel.
The children, how could life have been if you hadn’t told Joel you loved him that night?
As you both walked back home in silence, Joel couldn't help but notice the weight of your silence. He glanced at you from time to time, concern etched in his features.
"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence between you. "Are you okay?"
You looked up, meeting his gaze, and forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the tension in your voice betrayed your true feelings.
Joel stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "You don't seem fine," he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Is something wrong with you? Are you feeling nauseous"
“Are you sure?” he asked, once again.
“Yes.”
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The evening was filled with laughter and chatter as friends and family gathered in your cozy living room. It was a celebration for Joel's birthday. The room was adorned with balloons, and the air was filled with the aroma of home-cooked food and the clinking of glasses.
Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, catching up with one another, and sharing stories from years past. But amidst the joyous atmosphere, you couldn't shake the feeling of being lost in your own thoughts.
As you moved from group to group, exchanging polite smiles and engaging in light conversation, your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you had with Joel earlier that day. The mention of children had opened a floodgate of emotions, leaving you feeling uncertain and apprehensive about the future.
You tried to push aside your worries and focus on the festivities, but with each passing moment, the weight of your thoughts grew heavier. You felt like an outsider, disconnected from the joy and camaraderie that filled the room.
Amidst the laughter and merriment, you found yourself retreating into the corners of your mind, grappling with the decisions that lay ahead. Would you and Joel be able to find common ground on such a significant issue? And what would your future look like if you couldn't?
As the evening wore on, you excused yourself from the lively gathering, needing a moment alone to collect your thoughts. You slipped away to the quiet solitude of your bedroom, hoping to find clarity amidst the chaos of your mind.
As the night wore on, Joel couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Despite the lively atmosphere downstairs, a sense of unease gnawed at him, fueled by the memory of your quiet demeanor earlier in the day.
Excusing himself from the gathering, Joel made his way upstairs, a nagging worry tugging at his heart. He checked each room, calling out your name in a hushed tone, but there was no response.
Finally, he reached the bedroom and found the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open gently, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.
There, in the dim light filtering through the curtains, he spotted you sitting on the edge of the bed, your expression pensive and distant. Concern flooded Joel's heart as he approached you quietly, careful not to startle you.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and concern. "Are you okay?"
You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "I'm fine," you replied, but the tightness in your voice betrayed your words.
Joel moved closer, taking a seat beside you and reaching out to gently grasp your hand. "You don't seem fine," he said gently. "Is there something on your mind?"
For a moment, you hesitated, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. But then, as you met Joel's gaze, you felt a sense of reassurance wash over you. You knew that no matter what you were facing, you didn't have to face it alone.
"I've just been thinking," you began, your voice wavering slightly. "About us and our future."
“Oh, please don’t tell me you want a divorce on my birthday.” He said this, lifting his hand to his chest.
You chuckled.
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached out to cup Joel's cheek. "No, not at all," you reassured him, your voice softening. "I was just... reflecting, you know?"
Joel's expression softened; a hint of relief was evident in his eyes. "Reflecting on what?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"On everything," you replied, your gaze searching his. “I mean, we ran into Tess today, and I couldn’t help but imagine that I stopped you from having a big family.” You paused. “What if I can’t have children, or what if you don’t want to have them with me?”
Joel's expression softened further; his eyes filled with understanding as he listened to your concerns. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Hey, listen to me," he said softly. "I understand why you're feeling this way, but I need you to know something."
You looked at him, your heart racing with anticipation of his words.
"I love you and Sarah more than anything in this world," Joel continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "And while I may have imagined a different path for us at one point, what truly matters to me is being with you, no matter what."
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you, soothing your fears and uncertainties.
"I don't care about having a big family or whether we can have children," Joel said, his gaze never leaving yours. "All I care about is building a life with you.”
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders and a sense of peace settle over you as you realized that Joel's love for you transcended any external expectations or desires.
"I love you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.
"And I love you, more than you'll ever know," he replied, pulling you into a warm embrace as he cupped your face on his hands. “And if you want a baby, let’s make one right now, and I’ll send all these people away,” he leaned, kissing you softly.
"I love you too," you murmured against his lips, savoring the warmth of his embrace.
The idea of starting a family together filled you with excitement and anticipation. With Joel by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that together you could overcome any challenges and celebrate life's greatest joys.
With a playful grin, you leaned in to meet Joel's kiss, feeling a surge of happiness coursing through you, but the smell of alcohol on his lips made you stand up and run to the bathroom, once again to throw up.
Joel's concern was evident as he followed you to the bathroom, his brow furrowed with worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he kneeled beside you.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the nausea subsided. "I don't know," you admitted, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I've been feeling off lately, and this just... I don't know what's wrong."
Joel reached out, gently rubbing your back in a soothing gesture. "Maybe you're coming down with something," he suggested, though his tone betrayed his uncertainty.
You nodded, trying to push aside the nagging suspicion that had been growing in the back of your mind. "Maybe," you agreed softly, though deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something more significant was going on.
As Joel looked at you, concern etched into his features, he couldn't help but notice a certain glow on your face. It was subtle, but unmistakable—a radiance that seemed to emanate from deep within.
A thought began to form in Joel's mind, one that he couldn't quite shake. What if...?
His heart skipped a beat as he considered the possibility. Could you be pregnant?
The idea sent a surge of excitement coursing through him, mingled with a hint of apprehension. He knew that starting a family was something you both had talked about, but the idea of actually becoming parents was both thrilling and terrifying.
But as he looked at you, his mind flooded with images of a future filled with laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet. And suddenly, the uncertainty faded away, replaced by a deep sense of hope and anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, Joel pushed aside his doubts and fears, focusing instead on the overwhelming love he felt for you and the possibility of a new life growing within you. He knew that whatever the future held, as long as you were by his side, he was ready to face it with open arms.
With a tender smile, Joel reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "I know this might sound crazy, but... what if you're pregnant?"
Your breath caught in your throat at Joel's words, the possibility hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of the idea sinking in.
"Pregnant?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel nodded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of confirmation. "Yeah," he said, his voice tinged with hope. "I mean, it's just a thought, but... you've been feeling off lately, and the way you've been glowing... I don't know; it just got me thinking."
You took a moment to process his words; the reality of the situation was slowly sinking in. The idea of being pregnant fills you with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. It was something you had hoped for and dreamed about, but now that it might actually be happening, it felt almost surreal.
“Let’s go to the pharmacy.”
“What?! Now?” you asked, widening your eyes.
“Let’s buy a test; consider it a birthday present,” he said, already walking out of the bedroom, but you grabbed his wrist.
“But what if it comes negative?” You asked; fear was already creeping in.
Joel turned back to you, his expression softening with understanding. "Then we'll try again," he said, his voice gentle. "We'll keep trying until we get the result we want. But right now, let's just take the first step and see what happens."
He grabbed your face delicately. “And if you think I’m scared for what happened before... I know Sandy will protect you from above because you loved Sarah as if you were her mother, and I will not lose you, never.”
His words filled you with a sense of reassurance, and you nodded, feeling a surge of determination washed over you. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with resolve. "Let's do it."
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The party was still in full swing when you and Joel returned, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Tommy spotted you both entering and quickly made his way over, a curious expression on his face.
"What's going on with you two?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
You exchanged a quick glance with Joel, the excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you. "We'll tell you later," Joel replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
Before Tommy could press further, you grabbed Joel's hand and gave him a knowing look. "Let's go," you whispered, your heart pounding with anticipation.
With a shared smile, you and Joel hurried upstairs, the excitement building with each step. As you reached the bedroom, Joel wasted no time in tearing open the packaging of the pregnancy test, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation.
You followed suit, your heart racing as you carefully followed the instructions on the box. With bated breath, you both waited for the results; the tension in the air was almost palpable.
And then, finally, the moment of truth arrived. As you stared down at the test in your hands, your heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was this really happening?
You exchanged a hopeful glance with Joel, his eyes shining with anticipation. With shaking hands, you picked up the test and examined the result.
“I can’t watch,” you said, pacing back and forth.
As you paced back and forth, the tension in the room palpable, Joel reached out, gently grasping your hand to offer you reassurance. "It's going to be okay," he said softly, his voice filled with confidence. "No matter what the result is, we'll face it together."
You nodded, trying to steady your trembling hands as you continued to stare at the test in your grasp. With a deep breath, you finally mustered the courage to look at the result.
And there it was—the moment you had been waiting for—the positive sign you had hoped for. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you looked up at Joel, your heart overflowing with emotion.
Joel's eyes lit up with joy as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I can't believe it," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "We're going to have a baby. My baby is having a baby”
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you melted into Joel's embrace, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Our baby," you whispered, your voice choked with tears of happiness. "We're going to be parents."
Joel held you close, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "I couldn't be happier," he said, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for."
As you and Joel stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the sound of knocking on the door broke the moment of quiet intimacy. You exchanged a glance with Joel, both of you momentarily lost in your own thoughts, before realizing that Tommy and Sarah must be looking for Joel to sing happy birthday.
Joel gently released you from his embrace, his eyes still filled with wonder and excitement. "I'll go get the door," he said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before making his way to the door.
You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that still lingered on your cheeks as you tried to compose yourself. The news of your pregnancy still felt surreal, but the joy and happiness it brought were undeniable.
As Joel opened the door, Tommy's and Sarah's voices filled the room with cheerful birthday wishes. But their smiles faded as they took in the sight of you and Joel standing together with tears in your eyes.
"Hey, what's going on?" Tommy asked, concern etched in his voice as he glanced between you and Joel.
Joel's smile widened, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “We have some news," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We're going to have a baby."
As Joel's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath. You watched as Tommy and Sarah's expressions shifted from confusion to realization, their eyes widening with disbelief and joy.
"We're going to have a baby," Joel repeated, his voice thick with emotion as he reached out to take your hand, squeezing it tightly.
Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes as she let out a gasp of joy, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's incredible!"
Tommy's eyes sparkled with excitement as he pulled both of you into a tight embrace, and his voice choked with emotion. "Congratulations, you two. This is amazing news."
In that moment, surrounded by the love and support of your family, the reality of the situation hit you like a wave. You were going to be parents—a thought that filled you with a profound sense of gratitude and awe.
Loving Joel didn’t ruin your life.
With tears streaming down your cheeks, you exchanged tearful hugs with Tommy and Sarah, feeling overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. This was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, and you couldn't wait to embark on this journey together, hand in hand, with the love of your life by your side.
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taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedrolom @maryfanson @neganbestie
290 notes · View notes
sergeantbarnessdoll · 20 hours
Note
hey babes, could you write smt about bucky (now) and virgin!reader.
like she's ready after a while (they did some kissing and grinding iykyk). but poor baby is too tight and it hurts so she has to stop. and shes embarrassed and is distancing herself from him and he's scared that he'll loose her. but it's a happy ending
luv ya <3
Not So Special First Time » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Virgin!Reader
Summary: Your first time doesn’t go as expected and Bucky thinks he’s going to lose you when you distance yourself, but you two eventually talk it out.
Warnings: mix of Fluff and a little bit of Smut (18+), language, crying, kissing, hickeys, grinding, mention of virginity loss, pet names
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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The movie you and Bucky were watching was long forgotten. About a half hour into the movie, you ended up on Bucky’s lap, straddling him and making out. Normally you two have sweet make out sessions, but this one was heated. Bucky has already marked your neck up with hickeys. He knows you’re a virgin and he’s respecting your boundaries. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you’re ready to have sex. You’ve been ready to have sex with him for a while.
His hands were roaming your body, stopping on your hips and gave them a squeeze. You moaned against his lips. You felt something poking you. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Bucky’s cock that’s uncomfortably hard in his jeans. You decided to take it a little further. You moved yourself against him, his bulge rubbing against your clothed pussy. You gasped at the feeling. You moved slightly faster with Bucky’s help.
“Bucky…” You breathlessly say, pulling away from his lips.
“Yea, doll?” Bucky asks, kissing along your neck.
“I’m ready.” You confidently say.
Bucky pulled away from your neck and looked deep in your eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.” He says.
“As long as my first time is with you, I’m sure.” You say.
Bucky kissed you once more before standing up and carried you to yours and his bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed. He kissed you sweetly while his hands found the bottom of your shirt.
“May I?” He asks.
“Yes.” You almost whispered.
Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He looked up at you, waiting for permission which you gave him. He unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts. You lifted your hips to allow him to pull down your shorts. Your bra and panties were now exposed to him. You sat up, biting your bottom lip as you tugged on his shirt. Bucky lightly chuckled and took off his shirt. He stood up to take off his jeans and boxers. You followed suit by taking off your bra and panties. Bucky couldn’t help but admire your beauty. You felt yourself get insecure and you covered yourself up with your arms.
“Don’t do that.” Bucky gently uncovered you. “You’re gorgeous.” He compliments softly.
You smiled and blushed. You laid back and spread your legs. You watched as Bucky got on the bed in between your legs. You felt yourself getting nervous. Bucky also noticed it.
“Are you nervous?” He asks.
“Yes.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.
“It’s ok to nervous. It happens when you lose your virginity.” His hands rubbed the top of your thighs to ease your nerves. “If it starts to feel like it’s getting too much for you, just tell me to stop and I will.” He softly says.
You took a deep breath before nodding your head, giving him the ok to make the next move. Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance, slowly sliding it inside of your pussy. A whimper fell from your lips when you felt his tip enter you.
“Are you ok?” Bucky asks softly, stopping his movements.
“Y-Yes.” You stuttered. “I didn’t know it would hurt.” You say.
“Just know, it’ll feel better.” He assures with a soft smile.
You smiled back and told him he can keep going. The pain of him sliding his cock in your pussy increased, making your eyes water. Bucky wasn’t even halfway inside of you and it hurt you that much. You couldn’t take it anymore, tears escaped your eyes.
“I-I’m sorry, but can we stop?” You say, stuttering.
“Of course we can.” He says, stopping his movements again.
“I don’t think I was ready as I thought.” You say, turning your head away from him to avoid the embarrassment.
“It’s ok. I understand.” He says softly, understandingly.
Bucky slowly pulled his cock out of you and laid down next to you. You turned to your side, your back facing Bucky. He covered the two of you up with a blanket and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. You couldn’t help but cry from the embarrassment. Bucky spent the rest of the rest cuddling you and comforting you.
Over the next couple weeks, Bucky noticed you have been quiet. He wasn’t sure if it was you trying to lose your virginity the other night or he did something wrong. He understood that you were upset and embarrassed about what happened the other night, but his mind made him think the worst. You haven’t talked to him a lot lately, except for saying good morning to each other every morning and telling him to have a good day as he’s walking out the door for work. He also noticed that you’ve been distancing yourself from him. He tries to wrap his arms around you, cuddle you, and kiss you, but you just move away from him and turn your head away from him. It didn’t take Bucky long to realize that those are the signs of a relationship beginning to end. He didn’t want that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him in years. He’s determined to figure out what’s wrong for the sake of yours and his relationship, because he doesn’t want to lose you. He knows he won’t survive without you.
Bucky walked in the bedroom to see you folding and putting laundry away. He took a deep breath before walking further in the room. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. You didn’t even react to his affection. You just continued to finish the laundry.
“Doll, please.” Bucky pleads softly.
You heard him, but continued to do the laundry. Bucky took a shirt out of your hands and put it back in the laundry basket. He gently turned you around so you were facing him.
“Talk to me please.” He begs. “Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m sorry.” He says.
You looked down in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with him. It was the same embarrassment you’ve been feeling ever since you trying to have sex with Bucky the other night. You sat down on the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes began to water, tears threatening to escape them. You sniffled and a single tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky sat down on the bed next to you and held you close to him as you broke down in tears.
“Talk to me please.” He pleads. “I don’t want to lose you.” He says, his voice cracking.
“You’re not going to lose me.” You say softly.
“Then why have you been distancing yourself from me lately?” He asks.
“It’s embarrassing.” You say.
You tried pulling away from him, but Bucky just held you tighter.
“I’m your boyfriend. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He says softly.
“I’m embarrassed about what happened the other night.” You quietly tell him, loud enough for him to hear.
“It happens, doll. It’s ok.” Bucky says, assuringly and rubbing your back.
“I thought losing my virginity would be special and romantic, but it wasn’t.” You say, tearing up again.
“It is. Most people are different.” He says.
“What was it like when you lost your virginity?” You asked, looking up at him.
Bucky opened his mouth to answer you, but then closed it, trying to remember the night he lost his virginity. After a moment, he remembered.
“It was special and romantic.” He starts. “Me and Dolor- this girl.” He corrected himself. “Her and I dated for a while years ago before I joined the Army and one night after we went on a date, we thought we would end the night by loosing our virginities to each other.” He tells you.
“Lucky girl.” You mumbled. “My first time turned out bad.” You say, a tear rolled down your cheek.
Bucky cupped your cheeks and turned your head towards him so you were looking him in the eye. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs.
“No it didn’t.” His voice is soft. “You weren’t as ready as you thought and that’s ok. Like I said, most people are different when it comes to loosing their virginity.” He says softly and assuringly.
You gave him a soft smile. Bucky kissed you passionately.
“Can we try again?” You asked.
“Of course we can.” He says with a smile.
Normally it’s third times a charm, but this time, it’s second times a charm. This time it was special and romantic. The only reason why it was special and romantic as it was is because it was with Bucky.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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kykyonthemoon · 11 hours
Text
How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter
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By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.
ಇ. Character x Reader/MC
Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb
ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.
ಇ. Word count: 4k3
ಇ. Requested by Krys.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 
"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."
The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.
The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:
“Now you are mine.”
The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:
“Please stop.”
Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.
"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."
Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.
"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.
"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."
Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip. 
“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game. 
"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.” 
"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”
Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?
“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”
The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.
Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.
Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.
Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.
"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"
You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.
“You… What are you doing?”
“Is that how you speak to a princess?”
You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.
“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”
"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."
He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"
"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”
Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:
“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”
Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:
“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."
But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.
“Is that all?”
"Huh?" 
“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”
Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”
Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.
“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.” 
You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.
“Entertain me then. Would you?”
Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear. 
“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”
Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging. 
“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”
At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 
Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.
He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.
Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes. 
Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.
“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”
“Oh, my Lumiere…”
A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him. 
In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.
“This… is mine!” 
You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.
"You… Why have you read my book?"
"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.
"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"
"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"
You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.
His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.
"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.
“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking. 
“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended. 
“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”
Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.
“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."
You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.
“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."
“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.
“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”
Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:
“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”
A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:
“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”
Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf. 
“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"
Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.
“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”
Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner. 
When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.
Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands. 
“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”
He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.
Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.
He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.
“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.
“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”
"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”
You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.
“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.
“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”
Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.
Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”
A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"
Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.
“Yes. Hello."
"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal. 
Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:
“I also want to refer to some things from there.”
You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”
Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away. 
"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."
“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”
You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.
Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.
“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”
“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"
You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.
Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.
Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.
“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."
You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.
“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.” 
You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.
“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”
As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"
Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."
“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 
During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.
While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:
“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”
“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”
You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.
“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”
You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”
“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."
“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"
You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.
"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”
He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.
"No way! This… You can't read it!”
Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away. 
“I said, you can't read it!”
The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.
He knew. 
He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.
A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.
In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.
“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”
“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”
You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat. 
“So you like romantic stories… like this?”
You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.
When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.
That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.
You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.
Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.
“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.
During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something. 
Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.
“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.
Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."
You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.
You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.
"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.
“Pip-squeak, don't go.”
You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.
“Do you still read that story?”
Your head shook slightly as an answer.
"How come? Why did you stop?"
“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"
Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.
“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”
He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.
“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.
“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”
He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in. 
At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him. 
If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.
“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”
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lulublack90 · 20 hours
Text
Prompt 28 - Comfort
@jegulus-microfic May 28, Word count 787
Previous part First part
When the three of them finally went back to bed, James wrapped his arms tightly around Regulus again and dragged him close. Feeling his smaller body snuggle closer to him. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found him. To have discovered the real Regulus underneath all the snark and snipping. Discover the sweet, sensitive being that was begging to be found. 
“Regulus, love?” He whispered into his ear. “Can I take you on a proper date?” He felt Regulus freeze in the bed next to him. 
“What do you mean?” Regulus said warily. 
“Can I take you out, just the two of us, where no one can disturb us, and we can just have a date.” James shrugged, he was struggling to say what he wanted to say. Regulus unfroze and relaxed again. 
“Oh, okay, that sounds nice,” Regulus nuzzled his face further into James’s chest and let out a little sigh. James was puzzled. 
“What did you think I meant?” He asked, trying to prise Regulus off him so he could see his face, but the other boy resisted. 
“I thought you wanted to take me to Hogsmeade where everyone can see us.” At last Regulus rolled. “Not that I don’t want you too, eventually. I’m just not ready yet.” Regulus gulped, he was clearly nervous. 
“I know you’re not ready, love. That’s why we’re having a private date.”
“Okay,” Regulus nuzzled closer again, seeking comfort in James’s arms, and James happily gave it. 
He planned the date for the following night. He’d been practising warming charms for the last 2 weeks. Getting Remus to help him. Remus was a good teacher, and he’d soon mastered the harder ones. He’d be able to keep the pair of them warm for hours. 
He’d found them when he and Sirius had needed to blow off some steam and gone for a run through the forest. He led Regulus past the tree line and into the darkness. James waved his wand over them and performed a flawless warming charm. They lit the tips of their wands and carefully stepped over roots and dodged low-hanging branches. 
Regulus held his hand tightly. He still wasn’t as used to the forest as the others were, but he’d get there.  
“How far in are we going?” Regulus whispered so quietly James almost didn’t hear him. 
“There’s a gap in the trees about a mile in that I want to show you.” He said, holding a large fern leaf out of the way for Regulus to pass. 
“A mile!” Regulus said a bit louder. James chuckled.
“Believe me, it’ll be worth it. 
The rest of the trip they didn’t talk much and when they were close, James slowed his walk and held a finger to his lips as he crouched low. He crept forward and poked his head through a bush. 
They were there, all three of them. He pulled his head back and waved Regulus forward. Regulus looked nervous but came anyway. It melted James’s heart at how much Regulus trusted him now. 
Together they pushed through the bush and watched the unicorn and her foals nibble the sweet young grass. He heard Regulus's intake of breath as he looked in awe at the sight before him. He squeezed James’s hand tightly in his excitement. James bit his bottom lip to keep his smile under control. 
They stayed there watching the unicorns until they'd had their fill of grass and the foals had started to play, chasing each other around in circles and kicking out with cheeky whinnies, until their mother snorted angrily when one of the golden babies caught her flank with a tiny hoof. The foals followed their mother back into the gloom of the forest, disappearing instantly into the dense trees. 
James turned around and sat on the forest floor, pulling Regulus with him onto his lap. “So, are you enjoying your date?” James asked, peppering kisses up and down Regulus’s neck. 
“Yes,” Regulus gasped breathlessly. “It’s amazing, James.” He grabbed James’s face and yanked him away from his neck. James huffed and tried in vain to get free. He stopped struggling and looked up at the sweet boy holding his face. 
“I love you,” He blurted out. Regulus’s eyes went so wide, James could see the whites the whole way around. Regulus was so still in his lap that James was frightened he’d scared him so much he’d broken him. 
He waited, and Regulus blinked. His eyes sparkled and the smile that spread across his face was the most beautiful thing James had ever seen. 
“I love you too,” Regulus whispered back to him, before he leaned forward and kissed James with all he had. 
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whiskey-tango-matcha · 23 hours
Text
Show & Tell (M, cold)
Mark & Matt are back! In this, Matt has an awful cold and they have a busy night. That's pretty much it lol, there's a good amount of ~drama~ because who doesn't love drama? This takes place a couple months after 'Three', when Matt and Mark are dating but haven't told Greyson or Elijah and I'll be honest I've spent a lot of time on it and don't know if I even like it lmao. I hope you guys do, though!! It might suck, who knows!! Also, there's no sick character POV - it switches between Mark and Greyson's POV.
Ok, onward. Let me know how you guys feel about it lol.
CW: Male snz, cold, contagion mention, coughing, fever.
Show & Tell
“It’s not that I don’t want them to know. You know that.”
Mark gave his boyfriend a sidelong look; did he know that? He wasn’t so sure. “Matt,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s been three months. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”
Matt sighed, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I mean, Greyson can be… I don’t know… touchy, I guess, about like, relationship stuff. Especially since the whole… Collin thing. And also, he can just be an asshole about dating within the kitchen. You remember when he caught us kissing.”
“Yeah, but I mean that’s just what you guys do, right? Poke fun at each other? And the Collin thing… That was, like, a year ago, Matt. He’s a grown man.”
There was a pause, then, and Mark knew he’d gone too far. Greyson and Matt’s relationship was way more than boss and employee; Greyson had taken a chance on Matt when no one else would. He’d given him opportunities that Matt couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid, and Matt was always quick to point that out when Mark grumbled about Greyson’s anger, or when he called Matt in on his day off, or the way he made fun of Matt making doe-eyes at Mark. Greyson has been there for me since the moment I met him, he always said. You have to take the good with the bad.
More often than not, Mark found himself rolling his eyes at this statement, or muttering Whatever, babe, under his breath, but he also didn’t want to push his new beau away. If Greyson was a weird non-participatory third in their burgeoning relationship… so be it. He’d put up with it, for Matt.
“Hey, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that; I know, you’re right, he’s been through it.” Mark pulled Matt in for a hug, making the other man soften. “I’m just saying,” Mark said, pulling away, “that if he doesn’t already know, he’s going to have to find out eventually. Right?”
Matt shrugged, then begrudgingly nodded. “You’re right, you’re right, just… I don’t know, give me a week. Let me take him out and actually tell him so it’s not just, like, a big joke that he parades through the kitchen. Okay?”
Mark smiled. “Okay. Yes, that works. Thank you, baby.” He swept Matt’s bangs off his face, allowed a frown to settle over his own. “You feel really warm. By the way.”
Without missing a beat, Matt pulled away and ducked into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hh-! Hh’ITSZH-ue!”
“Bless you.”
“I’m okay,” Matt said in response. “Like I said before, I think it’s just allergies.”
“...Fever-inducing allergies?”
“Honey,” Matt said, pulling a hand down his face, “please drop it. We have like two hundred on the books tonight, it’s not like I could call out or anything.”
“So you feel badly enough to call out?” Mark asked, crossing his arms. Matt sighed, loudly enough for Mark to hear the congestion in his chest rattle.
“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”
“Mmm.”
“Can we go back to arguing about me telling Greyson and Elijah we’re dating? I’d prefer that over getting the third degree about what is, at most, a cold,” Matt said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Mark raised an eyebrow.
“So now it’s a cold. Moments ago, you said it was allergies. What’s it going to be by the time you get to work? Bubonic plague?”
“I was thinking something a little more modern. Maybe scarlet fever. Hh- hh’ISHHH-uhh!” Matt crumpled to the side once again, and Mark sighed.
“Hilarious,” he said, deadpan. “You should take some dayquil, or something.”
“I’m okay, honey, really,” Matt said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”
Mark hesitated; what would a good boyfriend do here? He assumed a good boyfriend would scoop Matt into his arms and place him in bed. A good boyfriend would call in for Matt – hell, call in for both of them so he could take care of his boyfriend – and tell Greyson and Elijah to figure it out, restaurant-be-damned. He’d spoon-feed Matt soup and they’d watch Criminal Minds and talk about who on the show was the most objectively fuckable and they’d fall asleep early and in the morning, Matt would be good as new.
But a good boyfriend would also tell their bosses they were dating; a good boyfriend wouldn’t put the onus on Matt to tell Greyson before Mark told Elijah because Greyson was an objectively harder person to tell. A good boyfriend wouldn’t give Matt shit for being nervous because him telling Greyson was akin to Mark telling his own father he was gay and fuck, Matt didn’t even have a father to tell, you asshole, you inconsiderate piece of shit.
He wasn’t a good boyfriend, that much he knew. So instead of manning up in any way whatsoever, Mark nodded and kissed Matt on his hot forehead. “See you tonight,” he said, and continued to kick himself as Matt trudged out the front door.
***
“They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”
Greyson rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they might pop out of his head. “Oh c’mon, Lij, that’s such a cop-out,” he said, snapping inventory papers onto a clipboard and clicking a pen open and shut many more times than was necessary. “It’s been, what? Like almost four months since the whole making-out-in-my-bathroom incident? And it’s not like they’re good at hiding it, I think Matt slaps Mark’s ass fifty times a day.”
“Is that really new, though? You slap Matt’s ass fifty times a day,” Elijah said, glancing up from his own, much-better-organized inventory clipboard. “I thought ass-slapping was just par for the course in this kitchen. You’ve created a culture of ass-slapping.”
“That’s within the kitchen boundary, Lij,” Greyson said, his index finger and thumb pressed together and punctuating each word of this statement. “Mark is outside the kitchen boundary. The rules are different.”
Elijah snorted out a laugh. “My mistake,” he said, flipping the first page on his clipboard and examining the second. “I figured that culture extended to the whole restaurant.”
“Damn right your mistake,” Greyson muttered. He glanced back down at his papers, then tossed the clipboard on the desk and snatched Elijah’s out of his hand to toss as well.
“Dude,” Elijah said, “I was using that.”
“Do you think Matt’s scared to tell me?” Greyson asked, ignoring Elijah’s annoyance. “It’s not like I’d care. I mean, the whole thing makes sense, they spend seventy hours a week here together. It’s not like it’s easy to find someone to date outside this place, and trust me, it’s not like he’s missing out on anything in the regular world. Shit, if you were down, I’d start dating you.”
“I’d rather eat a jean jacket than date you,” Elijah said, leaning on an elbow on the desk. “And that’s not even because you don’t have my preferred equipment, it’s because of who you are. Fundamentally. As a person.”
“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me,” Greyson said, ignoring Elijah’s statement outright. “Matt’s my dude. He’s my muse. He’s like if I had a kid, but didn’t have to do the gross horrible raising him part. He knows he can tell me anything.”
Elijah sighed, a heavy and resigned sound, and took the bait. “Grey,” he said, “yes, he knows he can tell you anything, but he also knows he’s going to get so much shit from you when he does tell you. I’m sure he’s just trying to spare himself the three weeks of jokes about the two of them dating. Maybe, if you could be serious for five fuckin’ minutes, you could approach him and ask him, hey, are you and Mark dating?” Elijah shrugged, both hands held in front of him as though to say just an idea.
Greyson scoffed, annoyed. “You’re one to talk. It’s not like Mark has told you.”
“Yeah, but Mark and I are coworkers. We don’t have some weird father/son codependent relationship like you two. Plus, Mark is only a talker when he drinks and he hasn’t had more than a glass of wine in front of me since they got together, so he knows I know he’s avoiding the conversation.” Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look then. “I’m sure he’s waiting for Matt to tell you. Dad.”
The chef rolled his eyes again and pushed himself to a standing position. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to talk to him about it today. And I’ll be serious.”
“Great,” Elijah said, picking his clipboard back up. “I’m happy for both of you.”
Greyson placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder as he walked out of the office and towards the prep kitchen, a gesture to thank him for the pep talk, and Elijah nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the fact that Matt had a not-so-well-kept secret that Greyson found troubling; it was the fact that he felt like he wasn’t able to tell his boss that hurt Greyson’s feelings. The chef got set up in the prep kitchen, pulled out his chef’s knife, and began sharpening it on his steel. He really thought he’d put it in Matt’s head that he could tell him anything. Apparently he’d been wrong.
As if summoned, Matt picked that exact moment to blow through the back kitchen doors – he was wearing a sweatshirt, despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm, and his hood was up. Greyson drew his eyebrows together, confused.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Greyson called from his prep station. Matt swung around, obviously not expecting to see his boss the moment he walked in, and his face immediately crumpled.
“Hh- hhNGTSHZ-ue!” Matt attempted to stifle a sneeze into his elbow, which backfired immediately. “ITSZZHH-ue! Hh’ITZCHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue!”
Greyson blinked, surprised, as his sous gave into the paroxysm. “Wow,” he said when Matt finally stood upright, clearing his throat. “Bless.”
Matt nodded, swallowed, winced. “Yeah. Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. He walked towards the prep station – slunk may have been the more appropriate word – and hoisted his knife bag onto the counter. The next few moves seemed robotic, as though the sous chef were on autopilot; push hoodie off head. Roll up sleeves. Unzip bag. Make eye contact with boss. “What ndeeds to get prepped first?”
Up close, Matt looked like an even bigger pile of hot garbage than he sounded; he was pale – sallow, Greyson thought to himself, then vocab word of the day -, his eyes red-rimmed and laden with bags. His breathing seemed painful, labored, and uneven, and before Greyson could say anything, Matt turned back to his rolled-up sleeve to cough. “Dude,” Greyson said, taking a step back.
“Sorry, sorry,” Matt muttered, getting himself together. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned back to Greyson. “Better?”
“That wasn’t what I meant by ‘dude’,” Greyson said, taking a step towards his sous and slapping a hand on his forehead. “That was ‘dude’ as in ‘dude, you look like fucking shit’.”
Matt wiggled out from under Greyson’s hand, annoyed. “I’mb fine, Chef,” he said. “Tell mbe what needs to get done.”
Greyson rubbed his face and gathered his hair on top of his head, buying time. Obviously, the conversation about him and Mark was off the table for the moment, but were they not allowed to talk about Matt’s very obvious illness, either? “Did you take anything?” Greyson asked, ignoring his sous’ question with one of his own.
“I was running late. Also, I don’t ndeed anythi- ITTTSZZHH-ue! HRSHHH-uh!” Matt folded himself in half to avoid sneezing in Greyson’s face, and collapsed into a coughing fit from the force of them. Greyson pressed his lips together.
“Where’d you pick this shit up?” Greyson asked, patting Matt’s back as the younger man tried to compose himself. “You haven’t been out on the prowl with me in months, so I take no blame.”
It was an attempt – a very obvious one – to get Matt to admit he was at least seeing someone, but either Matt wasn’t taking the bait or he didn’t hear him over his own misery. He cleared his throat and stood to his full height. “Can we please just start cooking? I ndeed a distraction.”
Greyson pressed his lips together; somehow, they’d had a whole conversation without really saying anything, a whole back-and-forth with not one question answered. “Okay,” Greyson said, stepping to the side to let Matt get situated at the prep table. “I’m going to grab some shit from the walk-in. You get set up.”
Matt nodded, obviously grateful, and started setting up his things while Greyson turned towards the walk-in.
Well, he thought to himself, sarcastically. That was productive.
***
“Alright, everyone, so we have 245 on the books toni -”
“HhuhhhITSZHHH-ue! Huh-! HhhRRSHH-oo!”
The servers’ heads popped up from their notes in unison and turned towards the closed kitchen doors, ten yards away. Mark cringed; Elijah raised his eyebrows towards Greyson, and the Executive Chef sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go check and make sure he didn’t burst a blood vessel,” he joked, prompting a collective giggle from the servers. Mark felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.
At his apartment this morning, Matt had clearly been coming down with something. Since he’d arrived at work, it was clear that whatever it was had settled in nicely; Mark had only been at work for two hours, but in those he’d heard Matt sneeze more than he had the entirety of their relationship.
“Jesus,” Mark had said when he first saw Matt, doubled over behind the prep table. “That really went from zero to a hundred. I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”
Matt had attempted to clear his throat before addressing his boyfriend: “Yeah, I guess,” he said, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie down to his wrists and shivering. Mark wanted desperately to tell him to go lay down in a booth or something – better yet, to tell him to go home and go to bed – but he knew he couldn’t do either.
“Can I get you some tea?” he asked instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from feeling Matt’s face for fever. Matt shook his head.
“’M fine,” he managed, picking his knife back up and wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “’S just a stupid cold.”
That had been about as far as their conversation had gone; Mark had been whisked away by Elijah to help set the floor up, and Matt had been forced to put his head back down and continue prepping. Normally, Matt would’ve been in pre-shift with the rest of the team, but Greyson had explained when everyone sat down that he was attempting to gain his second wind in the office and wouldn’t be joining.
“Anyway,” Mark continued, addressing the servers while Greyson stood to check on Matt, “like I said: 245 on the books. We do have a few VIPs…”
The servers jotted down what they needed to, and Mark finished his speech on autopilot. Elijah said something about uniforms being cleaned and pressed, and Greyson came back to join them all after a minute or two spent in the kitchen. When pre-shift ended, Greyson stopped Mark from walking away with the rest of the front of house.
“Mark,” Greyson said as the servers went to eat family meal, “hold back a second.”
Mark could feel himself immediately break into a cold sweat; Greyson never wanted to talk to him after pre-shift. Had he fucked up somehow? He knew they were too busy – overbooked, really – but Elijah had approved it. Said they needed the extra covers, since they’d be closed for a week next month. Maybe Elijah hadn’t told Greyson he’d approved the overbooking? Maybe -
“Hey, I just – I wanted to talk to you about Matt,” Greyson said when the servers had all exited to the kitchen. Mark swallowed, his throat dry. Oh.
“What about him?” Mark asked, his heart beating in his temples. Greyson huffed out a little laugh.
“You guys are dating,” he said – not a question. A statement. Mark’s face flamed.
“Did he – have you guys talked?” he asked, feeling his throat close. Greyson shook his head, a smile blooming on his face.
“Nope,” he said, palming Mark’s shoulder. “But now we don’t need to. Elijah!” he called into the kitchen, and Mark felt himself fly into action. He stumbled in front of Greyson before the chef could walk through the kitchen doors.
“Chef,” he said, holding his arms out so Greyson couldn’t get by, “you can’t tell Matt that you know. Seriously, he’ll kill me, he – I mean, he wanted to tell you himself, he said he was going to, like, sit you down and tell you and -”
“Sit me down? He’s not breaking up with me to be with you, I’m so fuckin’ confused why you guys haven’t just told us, it’s not like it’s a big deal -”
“It’s a big deal to him,” Mark said, cutting Greyson off. “It’s a big deal to Matt. I think – fuck, I don’t know, Chef, I think it’s like… you’re his person he gets to tell. You know? And he’s not feeling well and we kind of argued about it this morning and… please,” Mark said, biting his cheek to keep from crying. “Please, Chef. Just… he’ll tell you. Just wait for him to tell you.”
Greyson closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Okay. I’ll wait till the end of the week,” he said, moving Mark’s arm to get into the kitchen. “But if he hasn’t said anything by then, I’m saying something.”
Mark just nodded, and let Greyson by. You fucking moron, he chided himself. You absolute asshole. You gave it away, Matt is going to be so fucking disappointed, you’re such a dick, you can’t even let him have this one fucking thing. You just have to fuck everything up somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the FUCK is wrong with you?
***
Greyson would have been hard-pressed to think of a more difficult service than this one was turning out to be.
It had started fine; the flow of the evening was laid out well, the first turn went off basically without a hitch. Matt was on middle, and had loaded up on every medicine the office pharmacy had to offer, so while he was a little… high, honestly, he was at least in good spirits and able to do his job.
“We doing okay back there, everyone?” Greyson asked, peeking past the board filled with tickets to acknowledge his cooks, and Matt.
“Yes, Chef,” they answered – all except Matt, who hooted as though Greyson was a singer asking his audience how everyone was feeling out there. Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Only two hundred covers to go!” Greyson shouted as the printer spat out yet another ticket. “Order in, two salmon, three pork.”
About sixty covers in, things began to turn; the servers began to slow down, sending their food in as fire-alls instead of coursed out. The bar became backed up, so Mark was taking bartop guest’s orders and ringing them all in at once, sending a huge wave of tickets in at once – annoying, sure, but something they could handle. But then, tickets stopped coming in altogether – first, for five minutes. Then seven. Then ten.
“Elijah!” Greyson called into the dining room, not caring if the guests heard. The GM ran in at the sound of his name. “The fuck is going on, dude? We have ZERO tickets on the board.”
Elijah winced. “Yeah,” he said, “everyone is camping. We have like thirty people waiting to sit.” Greyson blinked.
“You’re kidding.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not.”
“So you’re telling me, at least thirty people are going to sit down all at once. And order all at once.”
Elijah nodded, solemn. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, Chef, that’s what I’m telling you.”
Of course, by the time the first set of guests got up and the second set sat down, they had a new problem: Matt.
It was seven o’clock; Matt had taken his last dose of medicine at four, and sitting around waiting on tickets to come rolling in again had stopped the flow of adrenaline. His misery seemed to have caught up with him completely just as the tickets started printing again.
“Order in,” Greyson called for the tenth time in three minutes, “a scallop, three filets, and a venison no dairy.”
“Heard, Che – HTSHH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side to sneeze into the sleeve of his chef’s coat, an angry, grating sound that made the cooks wince. He coughed painfully into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold back. Greyson bit his cheek.
“Bless, Chef,” he called over the line, pulling yet another stream of tickets. “Christ… ok, guys, I’m going to read all these but let’s just focus on what I just called for now, these people… I mean, they’re going to have to wait.”
“Yes, Chef,” the cooks called – all except Matt. Instead of the goofy whoops from earlier in the evening, Matt responded by ducking beneath the line.
“HRRSHH! Huh-! Hh’ITZZHH-uh! NGTSHZZH-ue! Hh… hhhuh-ITZSHH-ue!” Matt covered his head with his arms, careful not to spray them, and sneezed into his lap until he sounded hoarse. Greyson could hear him attempt to sniffle, to no avail. He stood, shakily, and cleared his throat. “Heard, Chef,” he whispered, his voice hanging on by a thread.
Greyson pressed his lips together, feeling the temperature of his blood raising. God, this fucking kid – he should’ve stayed home, what good was it doing anyone having him here, sneezing himself hoarse, coughing til he was dizzy, probably infecting all the cooks and most likely over or under cooking all the fish. Greyson wanted to snap, Pull it together, but held back.
“Bless, Chef,” he called again, pointedly. Matt just nodded, dazed.
“Go ahead and call the ndext tickets, Chef,” Matt croaked. Greyson sighed, looked up, and yanked the tickets off the printer.
“Order in,” he said again, and again, and again.
***
The dining room was a fucking disaster.
Mark’s head felt like it was screwed on backwards; he could feel himself failing, and with every misstep he hated himself more. Can’t you put the tickets in right? Tracy asked you to help take the order for 32, have you gotten over there? This bar is filled with drinks, the hell are you doing?
If the dining room wasn’t bad enough, in the kitchen Greyson was clearly about to be sent straight over the edge.
“I need runners!” he called from expo, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear. Mark cringed, dropped what he was doing, and ran into the kitchen. The printer wouldn’t stop; the window was filled with plates, and the servers were tripping over themselves to get the food onto trays and out into the dining room.
“Mark! Take these, table 24,” Greyson said, pressing three scorching-hot plates into the floor manager’s hands. “And come right back, this fucking food is going to go bad in about three seconds. Order in!”
Mark took the food, dropped it, assessed the red marks on his hands and wrists and headed back to the kitchen. All of this would’ve been par for the course for a Saturday night, really, if not for -
“HTTSHH! HRRRSHH-uh! Hh’NGTTSZHH-ue!”
Matt.
The whole staff could tell he was fading fast. It was eight-thirty, and since about seven he hadn’t managed to go more than a couple minutes without collapsing into a fit of sneezes or coughs. His voice was completely gone at this point, and Mark could tell – even from ten feet away – that he had a pretty significant fever. All of this seemed to just further enrage Greyson.
“Chef,” Greyson called behind the line. “Get your third wind, I’m fucking dying up here I need this food out now! Order in, three salmon, two filets!”
“Yes, Chef,” Matt called, his voice so mangled Mark wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get the words out. God, this was bad. This was so fucking bad.
***
There was no way they were going to get through all these tickets. There was just no fucking way.
It all felt like a nightmare at this point; Greyson was up to his elbows in tickets that just kept flowing. The food was dying in the windows, servers were grabbing shit that wasn’t theirs and fucking up what little flow they had going. Elijah was pouring free wine because ticket times were over forty minutes. And Matt was completely and totally stick-a-fork-in-him done.
At nine-fifteen, with twenty tickets on the board, Greyson looked up to ask his sous if table 55 was going to be up anytime soon; only to see Matt, caught in pre-sneeze torture with a knife in his right hand, moments away from splitting his left hand open.
“Matt!” Greyson screamed, and the sous chef snapped out of his daze and dropped the knife onto the cutting board. He gasped at the realization that he’d been millimeters away from maiming himself.
Enough is enough, Greyson thought to himself. “Mark!” he called into the dining room, not caring who could hear him. “Come and get your biohazard boyfriend and take him fucking home!”
The kitchen went completely silent. Matt blinked, clearly trying to unpack what he’d just heard, before wrenching to the side. “HHHITSZZHH-ue!”
Mark and Elijah burst into the kitchen then; tickets lined the board. Food lined the window. Matt was crouched down behind the line, and Greyson’s eyes were wild.
“Take him home,” Greyson said, making eye contact with Mark. “Or to urgent care. Or maybe straight to the cemetery. I don’t care where he goes, but he needs to get off my line.”
Mark nodded, and stepped behind the line to gather Matt, who slumped into his boyfriend’s arms. Greyson watched Mark hold Matt close, felt his chest contract when he heard his sous chef whisper, “Baby, I don’t feel good,” into his boyfriend’s chest.
“Go,” Greyson insisted. Mark helped Matt off the line, lead him into the office and pulled his hoodie over his chef’s coat, and walked him towards the back exit. Thank you, Mark mouthed to Greyson, who just nodded in response.
Once they were through the back doors, Elijah stepped forward. “Get back there and help them,” he said. “I’ll do expo. We’ll get through it.”
“We always do,” Greyson muttered, and pushed past his cooks to get to the middle of the line. “Alright: let’s land this fuckin’ bitch of a night in the harbor.”
***
The quiet calm of Matt’s apartment was in such direct opposition to the prior evening at work that Mark felt he might actually have whiplash.
The floor manager checked his phone for the tenth time since he’d woken up twenty minutes before. Elijah, via text, had filled him in about what happened after he and Matt left; it had been a shit show, but they’d gotten it done. There had been worse nights, Elijah said, though Mark couldn’t remember one. His boss let him know that he’d closed the restaurant for the day, to give everyone a well-deserved break. Thank God.
Greyson had texted both Mark and Matt apologizing for outing their relationship, and told Matt he could take as much time off as he needed – not that Matt had seen it yet. The sous chef had passed out the second his head hit the pillow the night previous, and he hadn’t stirred in over twelve hours.
Mark had responded to Greyson; it’s all good, Chef, though he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. He was glad that Greyson had told Mark to step up, to get Matt out and take care of him. But Matt… fuck, he was going to be upset when he woke up.
Speaking of which.
“Has anyone ever told you you text really loud?” Matt croaked quietly over Mark’s shoulder. Mark slammed his phone onto the bed and rolled over to face his boyfriend.
“No, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before,” Mark said, caressing Matt’s face. Matt smiled, a little sadly. “How’re you feeling?”
“Mmm. Like hot fuckigg garbage,” Matt whispered, closing his eyes. “Tired. Shitty. Fuckigg embarrassed.”
Mark pressed his lips together; he wasn’t sure what to say. He settled on: “Can I make you some tea?”
Matt huffed out a little laugh that turned into a nasty-sounding cough. “In a mbinute,” he said, “I just wandt to lay with you for now.”
So they did. A silence fell over the two of them – Mark stroking Matt’s hot face, Matt with his eyes closed. After a few minutes, Matt opened his red, rheumy eyes. “So, he kndows.”
Mark felt his heart sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he does.”
Silence surrounded them again. “I guess I should’ve kndown,” Matt said.
“I’m sorry,” Mark said. Matt smiled a little.
“You were right,” he teased. “You’re always right.”
“I’m rarely right,” Mark corrected. “But I think we made it pretty obvious.”
“Mmm,” Matt hummed again. A beat went by where neither of them said anything, until Matt’s body took over. “HHRSSHH-uhhh!” he sneezed, exhausted, into his hand and wiped it on the comforter. Mark couldn’t help but laugh.
“Bless you,” he said. Matt smiled, eyes closed.
“You’re gonna get so sigck,” he muttered, on the edge of sleep again already.
“Yeah,” Mark said, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. “That sounds accurate.”
Matt opened his eyes, slowly. “You kndow I love you. Right?”
A firework lodged itself into Mark’s aorta, blew his heart right to bits. “Really?” he asked, the wrong answer, but his first reaction all the same. Matt laughed in earnest.
“Really,” he said, closing his eyes again.
“I love you, Matt. God, I love you,” Mark said, kissing Matt’s lips again. “I’m sorry about last night. I love you. Thank you. I love you.”
Matt opened one eye this time, touched Mark’s face, and closed it again. “Thangk you,” he murmured. “’M gonna go back to sleep ndow. If that’s cool with you.”
“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark said, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. “I love you.”
And even though Matt was already snoring by the time he had said it again, he couldn’t seem to stop muttering it in time with his boyfriend’s snores. I love you. I love you. I love you.
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Protect Me From What I Want
Chapter 6: Sometimes the silence guides our minds.
Click here to read the first chapter!
Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader
Warnings: language, soft reader, soft Soldier Boy
Word Count: 2654
A/N: English is not my first language.
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In order to shower and get ready, you got up very early. As you thought back to your last night with Ben and the events of the previous two days, your cheeks flushed. You cupped your reddened cheeks under the water, remembering how he spilled himself against your entrace, parting your pussy lips. That was probably the closest thing you and Ben could have to sex.
When you were all around, he used to make filthy comments, but until two days ago, none of you took any action. Though he used to say nasty things about fucking you when you were two together, you eventually found out that it didn't mean he would actually make a move. Given the power imbalance between Ben and you, it didn't seem like you had any chance of fucking, even if you both wanted to. Regardless, you would most likely let him take you.
“Are you jerking off there?” Ben knocked the door harshly. “If so, you better come in two minutes or I’m going in. I’m fucking about to pee right here.”
“I’m not. Just give me a moment, please.”
“Either my fucking chest or my fucking balls are going to blow up here, I’m warning you,” he shouted again, knocking on the door constantly. You wondered if God forgot to put a little bit of patience into his character when creating him.
You turned off the water in a hurry, realizing he woul go in any moment, and you gripped a towel. Before you even cover your body, he opened the door between curses, and you held the towel before you.
“Oh, god,” you murmered. “Do you have prostate problems already?”
“Fuck, you’re taking a shower for an hour. Look at this hot steam; did you enjoy your sauna, sweetheart?” He said this and waved the stream on air.
“I don’t like cold,” you muttered, making a move to leave him alone after you covered your body with the towel.
He opened his mouth to say something dirty to make you feel shy, but as soon as he saw your body, his eyes furrowed in annoyance. He then gently touched your arm to stop you before you could leave the bathroom.
He glanced at your hips and, with an astonishingly gentle motion, lifted the towel off your hip, causing you to gaze at him bewildered. He whispered, “It looks like it bruised a bit down there,” and lightly touched your hips before you could ask him anything.
You lowered your head to see what he was staring at, looking at your own body. He moved your towel higher so you could see the damage from the previous night, and you gripped it hard as it was ready to slide off your body.
“Oh,” you gasped as you noticed the tiny purple bruises all over your hips and legs. They must have occurred last night when you attempted to loosen his touch on your body.
There was a pregnant pause between you, but you put your hands on his and murmured, “It's not a big deal,” to lighten the mood and not make him think you were too fragile or something. “I was not even aware till now. It would recover in two days.”
Feeling a bit guilty about your condition, he frowned and put some distance as he took a step back. “I..must be careful,” he simply said, turning on the water. “And we’ll talk about this later.”
You gave him a quick nod and left him alone in the bathroom when he started to take off his sweatpants.
You didn't say much while driving. You found it difficult not to chuckle at the way Ben looked with his hat and glasses. Getting him to wear those was a difficult task in and of itself. Ben's phone started ringing, but he ignored it.
“Will you not open it?” You glanced at him and remarked, “It must be Butcher calling.” You wish the day would end soon because you are so tired already. For the must-fuck-up assignments, Butcher was actually using the two of you on purpose.
Your phone started ringing after he answered, “No.”
Ben quickly grabbed it out of your hands and opened it, asking, “What the fuck do you want now?”
Ben wrinkled his eyes in frustration, hearing Butcher complain about Ben not returning his calls and asking if he was here already. He was clearly annoyed with Butcher's incessant questioning of him.
“I'm not sure,” Ben said, frustrated by Butcher’s non-ending questions. “I said I don’t fucking know.”
“We are almost there,” you muttered, removing your phone from his grasp.
“Remember to act with caution. Stay away from any attention. Butcher warned you once more. “There must be a ton of cameras outside; don't go inside and make sure his ass doesn’t leave the car.”
“For how long do you think we must stay here?”
“I'm not sure,” Butcher whined. “But is it okay if you spend one more night there?"
Ben remained silent when you looked at him to see how he would respond to Butcher's offer. You interpreted that as a ‘yes.’
“Oh, I suppose so,” you muttered.
You finally arrived at the location Butcher had informed you about when you checked your GPS one more time after hanging on the phone. You positioned the car far enough away from the building to be able to observe the entrance without drawing attention to you.
“Is that the location?” Ben started to move to get out of the car, but you stopped him right away by grabbing his arm. 
“We're not going inside, Ben,” you said while grasping Ben's t-shirt and pulling him back. “Perhaps, we can just watch from right here.” 
“If we stay here like pussies, how are we fucking supposed to know what's happening in there, huh?”
“I'm not sure, Ben,” you said in an annoyed tone. “Alright, let's check who is entering or leaving. As Butcher stated, let's not take attention.” 
He looked at your hands that were still on his t-shirt before you brought them back to yourself and waited for his response.
With a slight grin on his face, he said, “Well, I'd like to go inside, but fine,” crossing his arms over his chest. “For now, we'll do it in your way.”
His amusing tone made your face flush, and you rolled your eyes at him. 
Except for the one moment when he said that he was hungry, the two of you stood silently observing the massive structure for hours on end. You repeatedly reminded him to stay in the car while you went to buy lunch for the two of you. Fortunately, he remained in the car, allowing you to eat in peace. 
Ben and you both leaned forward to get a better look when you saw someone get out of a car—that would be Deep, for sure. He showed the case in his hands and spoke with two individuals outside for a while. 
“Are you able to hear what they are chatting about?”
Ben responded, “No,” as if you had just stated the silliest thing ever.
“Are you not a superhuman? Is this distance too much for you?” You smiled playfully at him, as you felt a bit encouraged to annoy him.
As though he were describing the most complicated concept, he uttered, "You can't ask a lion how far its roar can be heard."
You chuckled as you noticed his intense stare at Deep, as if he weremaking an effort. “What on earth does that mean?”
“What I mean is,” he said, continuing to stare at Deep and the other men. “Capacity is the key to your question.”
You said, “If you say so,” since you didn't want to upset him or something. “Does crowding negatively impact your hearing sense?”
Even though you knew it was highly developed, you had never discussed it before, so you were a little curious about his sudden hearing at that moment. You were afraid because of how close your rooms were to each other and the possibility that he might hear your every move, but it also seemed somewhat private. You most likely struggled to keep your hands off of yourself when he was present for that reason. Maybe because it was such a challenging scenario, you were excessively responsive to his touch.
You both continued to watch Deep, with the case firmly in his hands, talk for a long while with men before he entered the building. Ben sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest to indicate he was getting bored already.
“If it's much too fucking hectic, not much,” he said. While talking and making small talk, none of you gave the other a glance. “It's about paying attention, in fact.”
“What do you mean?” Your mouth feeling dry, you reached for a Sprite and asked.
“You hear nothing but that person if your senses—that is, your thoughts—are focused on them. It's quite simple.”
“If I were in a large crowd, could you hear me?” Hoping for a nice response this time, you asked.
After giving you a brief glance and chuckling, he answered, “Course I would.”
To cover up your smile, you continued to drink Sprite, and as joy filled your heart, your gaze strayed. Feeling that way when he spoke so sweetly out of the blue wasn't good for your heart. He wasn't even saying anything really special, but when something was about Ben, your mind tended to function differently. It didn’t matter if it was right or wrong.
Deep did not stay long inside before leaving, and he was still holding the exact same bag. You thought what he was doing was really suspicious, and you knew that he wouldn't be doing anything that normal individuals could do if it wasn't vital.
“What the fuck is he hiding there?” Ben muttered, interrupting your thoughts.
Before he vanished in the same vehicle, you quickly reached for your phone and took several pictures.
“How about we follow this starfish-brained cocksucker and take the case from him?” Ben suggested it with a serious tone.
“No,” you responded right away, still taking photos of Deep and the building.
“You keep saying ‘no’ to everything, sweetheart. I guess the only time you say ‘yes’ is when I finger you and make you come nicely, huh?”
Your eyes widened with embarrassment at the absolute filth Ben was talking about, and you stopped taking the pictures as Deep completely disappeared from your sight. Your lips parted to answer him, but you couldn’t find words as your face reddened.
“Will you please just stop talking like this?” Your hands were shaking a little from embarrassment and excitement as you asked and looked at the pictures you had taken. Suddenly, the air felt quite heated.
Ben laughed a little at the way you tried to hide your shyness from him by trying to concentrate on your phone. All around you, your gaze was wandering around, but not toward him.
He said, “Come on, you don't need to be shy with me, you know. We've already moved away a little bit from this.”
This time, you huffed and crossed your arms across your chest without responding to him. Until the sun set, you two kept observing the building. It was unexpected to see Ben acting so patiently and not attempting to enter the building after your second warning. If not, nobody could stop him.
You got out of the car and watched the sunset after exchanging information about Deep with Butcher over the phone, your ass somewhat aching from sitting for hours on end. You were relieved that Butcher had sent you on that pointless tasks with Ben, even though you felt a little annoyed when it was for nothing.
When Ben got out of the car, you smiled and followed you immediately. He took off his cap and put the glasses on the car. It was probably best if he had stayed in the car for your sake, because it was cruel that his statue physique and hair looked so wonderful beneath the setting sun. He was the kind of man who could stir up daydreaming sighs.
He turned to face you and remarked, “Eyes are up here,” with an amused tone. “What are you thinking, huh?”
With your arms folded over your sides and your fingertips lightly tapping the car, you only replied, “Nothing at all,” you muttered. “Well, Butcher sent us here for no reason it seems. We’ve got nothing in our hands.”
Ben exclaimed angrily, “He'll fucking make me kill him someday,” in response to your mention of Butcher. “He's going too far in pushing the boundaries.”
“Looks like you're stuck with me today, Soldier Boy,” you uttered, smiling shyly. Though you wouldn't ask him something like this, you hoped he enjoyed it as much as you did. But he probably somewhat loathed it.
He turned to face you when you had finished combing your hair and said, “It wasn't bad at all.” Before he could say anything more, his eyes eventually caught on your neck. 
With a frown, he reached up to stroke your neck and brush your hair aside. As you gently rubbed your skin with your warm fingertips, you gasped and whispered, “What happened?”
“I guess I've already fucking injured every inch of your body,” he said in a disapproving tone. 
Ben was very cautious when touching you last night and didn't even realize he was being harsh. However, it appears that he didn't realize how much danger lay between you and your vulnerability. He considered trying to fuck you, but he has now realized that it could be very risky for you and that it would be extremely selfish of him.
You moved away from his touch to deny what he just stated, but he stopped your movement. He was most likely talking about the hickeys he gave you the night before. 
You whispered, “It doesn't even hurt,” as your body felt hot and your cheeks flushed from remembering his aggressive, warm kisses on your neck. “You're simply overreacting.”
He rubbed your neck for a while longer before saying, “I should be more careful with you.”
In an attempt to lighten the mood, he smiled and said, “It's not that bad. I promise. They’ll heal in two days, you’ll see.” You let out a sigh as the weight of his intense stare caused your heart to race.
“I didn't mean to hurt you,” Ben said in a harsh voice, as if admitting such a thing was extremely difficult for him.
Placing your hand on his, you replied, “I know.” You had an idea of what was going to happen between you and Ben in the future, but this small, tender moment at sunset would remain permanently in your memory. How much you wanted the same for him, if only he knew.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
A/N: Sorry, it’s been a looong time since I have posted a new chapter for this fic. I hope you enjoy this. Comments are appreciated! Thank you all!
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @yvonneeeee @suckitands33
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this series.`♡´-
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scratch-house · 2 days
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i'm just a shot away from you.
sketch here and here.
hihi! long time no see! i'm gonna infodump about this piece down here.
so when i first started drawing, i focused really heavily on lineart. i was super into finding my "style" in terms of how i would stylize faces and bodies. my coloring style was kind of an afterthought and wasn't really in the place i wanted it to be, so this is me kind of experimenting and trying to go wild in that department.
i think the reason for my years long art block was perfectionism. specifically for digital art, i was very focused on making things pristine and clean looking. i mean that may or may not be obvious from my more recent pre hiatus art, i don't remember, but 😭 mentally that was the issue. i used to always like my sketches more than my lines, and at a certain point i was like, i may as well just have the lines be really sketchy and irregular and chunky or edgy in parts because i seem to be drawn to that, and clearly this precision thing isn't working out. i'd definitely attempted that at other points, but i hadn't really committed and was never really confident about it before now. i think ultimately i just had to reach enough of a 'fuck it' point before i could do it. it's a similar philosophy with the coloring and shading. i'm just letting all the textures and irregularities come through without worrying too much
the idea for the piece changed a LOT. like i started sketching and attempting to color this well before my art block, and i've only just finished it. initially, the doctor and the master were wearing their normal clothes and were holding daggers to one another while locked in an embrace, so the idea was like, the closer they get, the deadlier it is. for some reason i just couldn't get that to work? at some point i gave the doctor navy wings, so there was almost an angel of death thing going on (think the master asking her to kill him), but eventually i went for this! there's still kind of the erotic element with the master straddling the doctor and her Thrusting up, but now they are fencing, and the weapons are a little more front and center instead of hidden, as they were initially. i don't know how obvious it is, but what's happening is the master seemingly has the doctor pinned, both physically and with his rapier, but as she thrusts up, she actually moves his face closer to her blade. his hand on her elbow looks like it's part of the pin, but actually he's trying to stop himself from getting cut more. this thing of the master looking like he's winning, but the doctor actually holding the deadlier (though not necessarily better) position was very important to me, i don't know why. it was a feature of all of the sketches, although in the dagger sketches, there was an element of the doctor's blade being more hidden than the master's, ie in the embrace, the master (facing her) has an arm wrapped around the back of her neck with a blade at her throat, and she wraps her arms around him with a blade pointed directly at his back. you are going to have to figure out the symbolic intricacies of that yourself because i was just doing what felt right sjdjsdk
almost forgot: it's not just the positioning that sorta favors the doctor, it's also the fact that she is slightly more armored than the master. i don't know if you would call that armor, but let's go with that. her mask is pulled slightly more over her face than the master's, she wears her gloves and shoes while the master wears neither, and her rapier has a little cover that goes over her hand, while the master's just fans out. obviously they both have minor injuries, but the doctor also has some Ambiguous blood at her mouth. is it his? is it hers? i don't know. but she has blood in her mouth vibes when it comes to her interactions with the master so there u go
there's also an element of like, fencing is not supposed to get this crazy, so something has gotten severely out of hand here. but mostly i thought it looked cool.
if i could change anything about this, i would make it so that the doc's blade is pointing directly at the master's chin instead of having just grazed his lower face, with the master trying to lift his head away from the blade as he slides down, just so that the threat felt a little more.. i don't know, imminent? so that the strain is more pronounced? they're simultaneously being pulled toward one another (by gravity) and desperately trying to push away. i might've also fucked around with the text a little more because i'm realizing now that it could very easily be misread shjshdjs. but mostly i'm just glad that it's done and it looks cool. it's been YEARS and i finally feel like i'm back on my art feet. but don't hold me to that
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tiredassmage · 1 year
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🖊 for Tyr 👀👀 maybe early Intelligence days thoughts?
Experienced a Thought I've been delaying acknowledging for like a month now??? Probably??? Aaauhhhh that spawned a potential emotion-busting revelation, so I MEANT to talk about this in like, a constructed manner, but then I busted out a fic musing about the latest ping pong ball of a thought to go flying across the room like that scene from the first Men In Black, so uhhhh Merry Crisis with me?!
I'm still rotating this in my head wondering if I really need to add another layer of complexity to Tyr's already botched life, but also: it's real damn good and it hurts me, so, naturally, I'm going to release that upon the world now, too. xD
Anyway. Vague context if you want it: I posted this trying not to chew on this like a stick and go absolutely insane about it, bUT it only encouraged me, so now we have this instead.
x-x-x-x-x-
DECKARD, TYR V.
Keeper stilled as his eyes landed at the top of the next file, the steady hum of air circulators and databanks blending into a yet more quiet background noise. Carding through potential recruits was a lengthy process, even with the rigid requirements of the Intelligence Academy.
Perhaps his wife was right, he considered idly. The long days and dwindling nights had long characterized his career with Intelligence. Surely it was, on some level, partially responsible for a few of the permanent lines dug in across his features and the graying, receding hair. He still hadn’t pinned whether work at the head of Operations division outpaced the weight of being in the field.
Such idle musings would do little to cull the ever-growing list of his responsibilities.
He turned away from the face of the chrono again with a sniff. Briefly, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed aching eyes. He’d call it soon, but he’d opened this last report, so there was little sense it putting it off further. Academy leadership had urged him to take particular interest in this potential officer.
A frown set a bit further across thinned lips as he read over the name again.
Deckard.
High marks in weapons proficiency, infiltration, negotiation… High marks relatively across the board. Impressive. Very impressive for such a young recruit.
For the moment, he skipped the file attachments. Data first. Early twenties. Successful shadow and support on a wet-foot operation local on Dromund Kaas. Adaptable in the field. Good at taking orders.
Limited connections with family - that would make operations easier long-term.
Deckard. Fairly ranked officer in the Imperial Navy. Marriage to a testy, if moderatly influential Sith Lord some three decades back or so. He remembered the one rather well, had exchanged some mild pleasantries over the engagement… Hot headed, their daughter. She'd be about the age to send to Korriban now, he reckoned, if she hadn't been already.
The son, it seemed, had managed to dodge that ill temperament thus far.
Deckard, Tyr V. Reportedly orphaned by fleet action and charitably raised by the then-Commander Deckard - the officer had been related to the boy’s parents and had taken him rather than pass him off to an impassionate system.
That same piece of action had earned the patriarch a promotion to Captain following, if memory served him correctly.
Keeper drew a hand across his chin. The boy’s discipline and piloting training would have made him a just fit for the Navy to keep, but Academy recruitment had singled him out during early martial skills training.
His fingers hovered - hesitated - over the attached shots from Academy entrance.
Outplayed, or simply mocked by whatever forces were or were not at work in this wretched galaxy, Keeper mused with a scowl threatening his lips. A Watcher or three were always fond of telling him it’d make those lines around his eyes more permanent - a sentiment the wife often echoed.
That was the bloody thing about Ciphers - they were damn difficult to truly eliminate. Silent fingerprints left across the galaxy despite retirement or reassignment or even gross and utter failure.
Keeper closed the file and dimmed the lights in his office before he leaned back in his chair and released a long, bone-deep sigh slowly, hands steepling to touch fingertips to his forehead.
He was all but the top of his class - strong potential to be an absolute asset to Operations. An opportunity that couldn’t be passed up in a right mind.
Particularly with whispers that the military was still probing for weaknesses along Republic lines, they could ill-afford to be short-staffed. The… competitive nature of their Empire always bred opportunity. The grass was tall and there were vipers aplenty.
Duty seemed to remove the choice in the matter.
He opened his eyes and leaned forward. They had a number of sensitive operations that would need delicate, well-trained hands coming up. He’d examine this latest grouping of operatives personally, he decided.
That would show him painfully well just how much a son would manage to follow a father. Even as well-removed from a Cipher’s imprint as had been affordable by the circumstances.
He picked up the datapad once more, finished off the approval for the select few that would be moving forward to finalize their training and transition into active service. Then he stood and prepared to head home, but not before lingering a few moments longer over that last file.
He should have sent the boy much farther than Dromund Kaas.
A moot point and an ill-advised longing now, he reasoned as a finger brushed the edges of the screen. Whether or not it would’ve saved the boy from Intelligence, they’d never know now.
At the absolute least, he’d avoid mentioning this to the wife. For now. Their illustrious Emperor, even in sleep, knew she worried plenty enough as it was.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Man, today was absolutely mental. I don’t think I’ve ever come so close to losing it with a customer
#‘which customer’ you ask. well first there was rude ice cream man#he came in… i want to say before noon? i think it was before we became absolutely inundated#and he was MAD rude for what#he was buying like 4 ice creams so he def had kids with him and was a frustrated father or uncle or grandpa or hired babysitter or whatever#but DUUUUUUDE. there’s no need to give me the blank ☹️ face and ignore all of my questions and exchange zero pleasantries#then there was the lady whose phone died and she couldn’t pay and she was so nice but why. why#like of course i can’t just let you have this stuff. it could be theft. my manager put her stuff in a fridge and then she came back for it#later and i had to go find it and it was so much#she was so nice though i hope she’s well#THEN there was the motherfucker who was buying… i can’t remember what but his total was £5.35#and i remember this because he was trying to insist on paying for it with exactly three (3) £1 (£1) coins. like sir. that doesn’t work.#that’s not enough. i Could Not get it through his head that i couldn’t take cash unless he gave me at least £2.35 more#eventually i managed to get a contactless card payment out of him and he grumbled about how he was going to have to carry these three pound#coins around with him (ohhhh my god what a hardship 🙄) and about how money was leaving his bank account#like idk how to tell you this but we serve overpriced food here sir. if £5.35 leaving your bank account is a big problem for you you picked#the wrong place to come. also like. you could’ve just. spent only £3 lmao. you had two items#the retail section def sells stuff that’s £3… you didn’t have to do this. like at all. and i’d be happier if you hadn’t#THEN my coworker decided to let two fucking customers in after we closed and they both wanted machine coffees and they took SO long#the one guy had admittedly been queuing just before we closed but the woman just rocked up solidly five minutes too late and was like ‘i’ve#come so far :( it’s been such a long journey :( i just need any coffee :(‘#i REALLY wanted to say ‘fuck your journey and fuck your coffee. plan better’ but instead i had to make an americano#i don’t think i even tried to hide how mad i was#like hiiiii i know you don’t care but this is my life. this is taking time away from me being able to clean down for the closing shift#which is going to take time out of my life because i’m only paid until five#i know you don’t care that i’ll have to do unpaid work but like. here’s your fucking coffee. lol#there was also this other guy and i can’t remember what he did or said but i remember i was passive-aggressively sugary sweet with him#because it was the only way i could let my annoyance out. i love being sarcastically nice in this job because they can’t call you on it#or they look crazy#in summary i had a fucking day. thanks for asking#personal
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bioaccumulation · 1 year
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I think about this one post that was like "we should all act a little more like boomers to save money they return shit all the time and get their money back meanwhile youre too nervous to correct someone when they get your order wrong" because its true. Just start trying to return things. Obviously dont be obnoxious to the customer service but at least try!
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gudakko · 1 year
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wait right i did have another dream
#why do i suddenly remember them only after a few hours#anyway this was from the afternoon nap not the new years sleep that was the bird girl#but yeah i went to my old highschool and usually thats never a good sign in a dream cause that usually means its going to be one of those#stress dreams where im stuck in school for no reason cause i didnt REALLY graduate and have to do it all over#but this time it was different like there was still that lingering feeling at first but then i was just like no im just here to#pick up my diploma im not doing the usual bs#and also it was VASTLY different now like the whole first floor was just a huge starbucks? it had like 5 or 6 counters each with employees#and staff but it was also mainly empty there were only like may 1 or two other people#and i immediately started speaking in english cause yknow and they just assumed i was foreign so they just started speaking to me in the#usual broken italian english and also the way the stuff you could order was displayed SUCKED like you just had a few items listed here and#there and every counter had different listings so you had to walk all over the place to get a good idea but eventually i just asked them#what frappuccinos they had and this guy told me like the 4 different flavors they had but they were all gibberish? like they were just#made up words lmao. so i just picked a random one and he gave me a weird look like are you SURE you want that one? and i was like uh fuck#maybe that other then?? and he approved of the other one so i was like yeah sure and still no idea what flavors they were#eventually i got my order and they didnt even do the name thingy? but i did read something on the cup#cant remember the name but they wrote something interesting i was like huh ok#anyway it fucking sucked it was just. barely a milkshake? no distinguishable taste even if it looked like chocolate and NO whipped cream#like tf. plus it had those boba balls but not the good ones that pop the bad ones i dont like that are sticky#it was a very miserable drink but i didnt wanna complain so i just drank like half of it before leaving lmao
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pibsboots · 4 months
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I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.
Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.
It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.
When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.
Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.
Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.
I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.
But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.
With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.
If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.
Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.
Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.
Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.
It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.
All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.
There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.
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incognit0slut · 1 month
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Hypothetically
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Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x bau fem reader
Category: fluff/comfort
Warnings: marriage and baby talk, reader is insecure because she feels left out
A/n: This is my entry for the kid fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins! This was like a breath of fresh air from all the smut I’ve been writing
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"Do you want to have a baby with me?"
The scalding coffee burned his tongue as your question lingered in the air. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly and patted his chest, his eyes drifting towards you. "Uh... what?"
"Hypothetically," you replied, the tap of your pen echoing against the round table between you. "It's like a pact. If we're both still single in the future, we get married to one another and, well, start a family together."
Spencer felt the clamminess of his palms as he set his mug down, trying to steady himself. He considered you as one of the closest people in his life, if not his best friend, and he was accustomed to your random questions, but this sudden topic of conversation seemed to strike a nerve.
"Where..." he began, wiping his palm along his pants. "...where is this coming from?"
You shrugged casually, the tapping of your pen momentarily ceasing. "Just a thought. I mean, we're both at that age where these things start to cross our minds, right?"
Spencer swallowed, trying to push down the unease rising in his chest. "Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, but as he studied you, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. "Are you okay?"
Your gaze flickered away for a moment before you sighed, slumping against your chair.
"I have a wedding coming up this weekend." Spencer frowned, not understanding what you were trying to say. You continued, "And another one next week, and guess what? Two of my cousins are getting married next month."
"What does that have to do with...?" His voice trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Ah, I see."
But you weren't finished. Somehow, the thoughts that had lingered in your mind for the past few days spilled out right then and there, in the middle of broad daylight when you were supposed to be focusing on the case you were working on.
"And a close friend I went to high school with just gave birth while another friend from college announced she's two months pregnant. And look at me," you exclaimed, your arms flying around. "No wedding. No pregnancy. Spencer, I don't even have a boyfriend, heck, I forgot what it's like to go out on a date!"
He watched as your brow furrowed into a frown, and although your demeanor was all over the place, he couldn't help but notice how you still managed to look pretty.
"Spence?" You asked, nudging his leg with your foot under the table. "Are you listening to me?"
He blinked, momentarily pulled from his thoughts by your voice. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm listening."
You gave him a skeptical look, but the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease slightly as you leaned back in your chair.
"I just... I don't know, I feel like I'm left behind." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I'm happy for my friends and all, but sometimes it feels like everyone's moving forward but me. Like I'm stuck in this... this rut."
Spencer wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, he knew how it felt to want something that seemed out of reach, but on the other hand, he felt like it wasn't his place to offer advice when he wasn't even sure what the future held for him.
"I get it," he finally said, trying to gather his thoughts. The least he could do was try to offer some comfort. "But just because you haven't reached those milestones yet doesn't mean you won't get there eventually."
"But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm still all alone and nobody loves me when I'm gray and old?"
He frowned at you. "I'd still love you when you're gray and old."
"Platonically. You love me as much as you love JJ. Or Emily. Or Penny, or even Morgan." You leaned over the table. "I want to be loved passionately by someone who is head over heels for me, who can't imagine a life without me. I want to feel that kind of happiness."
His frown deepened. "I don't think you should find happiness in another person."
"You're missing the point," you groaned, crossing your arms. "I'm not saying I want to depend on someone else for my happiness. But is it too much to ask for someone to share it with? To feel like I'm someone's everything and not just another friend in the group?"
His expression softened as he listened, a sense of familiarity washing over him. He remembered feeling the same thing once, or maybe more than once; he wasn't sure. He had lost count of the times he felt his life was falling short.
But he realized the more he thought about the why—why was he so different? why couldn't he find love?—the more he felt worthless, and he hated that. So what was the best thing he did to ignore those thoughts?
Bury himself in work, because to him, pushing those feelings aside was easier than confronting them. But now, as he looked at you, it felt like he was seeing his own reflection and your words hit him harder than he expected.
"No," he quietly agreed. "It's not too much to ask for."
"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm tired of waiting for life to happen to me." Your gaze slowly met his. "So I came up with a plan."
His throat felt dry as he recalled how this conversation started in the first place. "The... baby plan?"
You nodded enthusiastically, sliding into the seat next to him.
"Think about it. If we're both still single when we're..." You paused, furrowing your brow as you did a quick calculation. "Forty? Yeah, let's say we're both still single when we're forty, with no partners, or like, no friends with benefits?"
You shook your head.
“Just... with no one in our lives—we get married. You and me."
He blinked, trying to process your proposal. It was unexpected, to say the least, but there was a strange logic to it that he couldn't quite shake. The idea of marrying his best friend as a backup plan was both absurd and oddly comforting.
"But what about... love?" he asked cautiously. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"
You paused, considering his question before responding. "I mean, I don't think it's impossible," you said, leaning back in your seat. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying, 'Marry your best friend'?"
His gaze lingered on you, his heart beating hard against his chest. "You're saying that we can fall in love?"
Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Who knows?" you replied softly. "Stranger things have happened."
Spencer shouldn't entertain the possibility. After all, who knew what could happen in the future? It seemed like an absurd thought, but as he stared at you, it was hard not to imagine a life with you as his wife.
He imagined you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him with a radiant smile on your face. He pictured you both in the house you had just bought, dancing joyfully around the empty rooms as you unpacked boxes together.
Then thoughts of you being pregnant with his child—or maybe even children—filled his mind, and he envisioned a future where your kids would run around in the backyard with a pet dog trailing behind.
And then he considered the prospect of growing old with you, watching as your children eventually started families of their own while you found comfort in each other's company. All of these possibilities didn't seem so bad, because if anyone could understand him on a deep level, it was definitely you.
Maybe this crazy plan of yours wasn't so crazy after all.
"I... I guess it's not impossible," he finally admitted. Then, not wanting to seem too eager, he added, "Hypothetically speaking."
"Of course," you replied with a smile. "Hypothetically speaking."
Suddenly feeling flustered by your gaze, Spencer looked away and focused on his coffee, bringing the mug to his lips. Then you heard laughter and footsteps drawing closer, and soon Derek and Emily entered the room. Their eyes immediately landed on the two of you, sitting closely together at the table.
"What are you children whispering about?" Derek's voice interrupted, his eyebrows raised curiously as he glanced between you.
You didn't miss a beat. “Spencer and I are having a baby together."
Spencer choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in shock as he coughed and sputtered. You quickly moved to pat his back.
"Well, we're gonna get married first, right, Spence?" you added with a grin, glancing at him expectantly.
Spencer finally managed to regain his composure, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shot you a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, of course," he stammered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Hypothetically."
Derek and Emily exchanged bemused glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily's curiosity seemed to win out as she lifted a hand, turning her attention back to you. "Care to explain?"
"We were discussing our backup plan."
"Backup plan?" Derek echoed. 
"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In case neither of us finds the right person by the time we're, oh, I don't know, forty or so, we figured we'd marry each other and start a family."
Derek placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "And you chose Pretty Boy over me?"
"I'm not going to compete with all your lady friends," you shot back, rising from your seat. "Come on, Spence, let's grab some lunch and brainstorm baby names."
He stood up, giving you a pointed look.
"Or do you want to discuss how we'd make those babies in the future?"
"Well, I was thinking of Amelia if it's a girl..."
You grinned, linking your arm through his before guiding him towards the door. Derek and Emily observed the natural closeness between you two, how you were practically clinging to him and how he seemed to be comfortable with it.
Derek turned to Emily as you disappeared down the hallway. "Do you think they'd actually get married when they hit forty?"
Emily shook her head. "Nope," she replied confidently. "I give it a year until he's already down on one knee."
He laughed, nodding in agreement. With the way Spencer's gaze lingered on you with unmistakable affection, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.
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propertyofwicked · 1 month
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FIRST - LN
lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)
warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink
✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧
masterlist the playlist
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“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.
being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.
“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.
“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.
“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.
“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.
“i ju-”
“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.
in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.
she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.
this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.
“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.
“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.
“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”
“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.
“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.
oh he knew her a little too well.
“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.
“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.
“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.
lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.
“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.
“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”
“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.
“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”
“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.
“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.
“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.
“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”
“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.
“huh?” max replied, confused.
“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.
the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.
“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.
“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”
“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”
lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.
y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.
there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.
max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.
max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?
the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.
“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.
“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.
“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.
“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.
“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.
“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.
“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.
“tell that to the scar on my back.”
“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.
“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.
“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.
“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”
“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.
“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”
“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.
he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.
“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.
“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”
his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.
the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.
“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.
“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.
“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”
his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.
“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.
“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.
“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.
“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”
“kiss me.”
“wha-”
“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”
lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.
“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.
“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.
“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.
“there’s no one i trust more.”
with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.
“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.
“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.
“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”
“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.
“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.
“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.
“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.
“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.
“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.
“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”
“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.
“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.
“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.
“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.
“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.
“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”
she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.
“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.
“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”
“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.
“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”
lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.
“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.
“yes, fuck lan. only you.”
he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.
“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.
“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.
lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.
“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.
“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.
“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.
“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.
“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.
“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.
“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.
“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.
“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.
minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.
“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.
“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.
“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.
“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”
“preach.”
-
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seonghwaddict · 2 months
Text
save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
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it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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hailsatanacab · 6 months
Text
Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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