#for everyone that is insecure about their weight
Note
Do you ever plan on continuing the Adoptive Son Au?
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
Dick lays perfectly still, staring up at Crowne's bedroom ceiling. Besides him, Crowne is found asleep, and his soft puffs of breath are the only sound to be heard in the room. As always, the other man is curled up facing the wall, one fist under his cheek and the other clutched to the warm set of blankets.
It's something Dick noticed the first night he slept over.
Awake Crowene took up so much space with his commanding aura, steadily leading his team into the future like a king upon a throne—as if he were larger than life.
Asleep, Crowne seemed to grow smaller, a shocking reminder that for all he's accomplished, he too was only eighteen like Dick.
His face softened, and the invisible weight that seemed to be resting on Crowne's shoulders vanished once he slumbered. It surprised Dick, the first time he watched him sleep, to see how gentle the man could be. How innocent he appeared.
It was a reminder of how inexperienced Crowne was regarding relationships.
The mission had gone on longer than he'd ever planned it to. Dick was worried about how far he was going to go with the honey pot aspect, even with his suggestive comments and more daring flirtations. None of his other missions have gotten so far, always stopping at a few cuddles and kisses.
Thankfully, Crowne hesitated to go further. He had agreed to the hotel room, leaving Drake with Nancy for the night, and as Dick was desperately trying to think of an escape as they climbed up to the room, Crowne had grown more and more angsty.
They had kissed against the door and stumbled their way to the bed with heated breaths and whispered moans, but when they actually landed on the hotel bed, Crowne had sprung away. He had burst into tears, shamefully admitting he wasn't ready.
Dick had been so grateful for the out as he gathered Crowne into his arms and promised to wait till the time was right. He would wait until the CEO was ready, wiping away tears and kissing his cheeks dry.
He gave himself more time by admitting he also didn't feel comfortable moving forward yet, and Crowne looked at him with such tenderness Dick forgot about the mission for only a minute.
Instead, the two somehow ended up chatting the night away, lying side by side, whispering to each other against the pillows. None of what they spoke about was useful for the mission, and yet he found himself holding the little facts about Crowne close to his heart anyway.
He learned about Crowne's insecurities, some of the bullying he endured as a kid, the loving parents he missed, and the sister he lost. He even spoke about his fear of failing Drake or the rest of the people at his company who depended on him, how sometimes that fear of failure would creep in and freeze him in place.
In turn, Dick found himself talking of the circus, whispering what he missed and what life was like before his parent's death.
He shared his role as team leader—though not what the team was—and how sometimes he felt like he was still attempting to find his place in everyone's lives. Shockingly, he even admitted that he feared Bruce would never see him as soon, hiding his tears in Crowne's neck as he pushed out the words.
He never opened up to anyone like that, which terrified him of how far he may have lost himself within the lie.
They fell asleep together that night, curling around each other fully clothed, and it was far more intimate than anything he had ever done with anyone else.
The following day Dick had been able to spot love in Crowne's eyes whenever he looked at him. It made him sick. He tried to not make too much eye contact following this, for they had yet to find the missing children, and he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the devotion of a man he was playing for information.
Now, four months after they agreed to go slow, he slept on the right side of Crowne's bed, which had become his side, watching the snow gently fall outside the window of the new house Crowne had purchased. The mission had far surpassed the expected wait time, as Christmas was quickly approaching, and Crowne had made comments of spending it at Wayne mannor.
He had seen a shopping list with Bruce, Jason, Damian, and even Alfred's names on Crowne's desk, and a couple of gift ideas were written next to them. Because he knew that to Dick, they were his family, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.
The mission had begun in spring, but Dick couldn't find a way to untangle himself from Crowne. He had been heavily involved in the gym Crowne was setting up with Drake, seeing that he adored possibly being a gymnastics teacher more than he ever planned.
Bruce occasionally commented that he shouldn't let himself be swept away by the lie.
He knew the truth.
This domestic bliss he was spending with Crowne was an illusion. It was bound to burst the day they found what they were looking for, but by the gods, Dick honestly thought they were wrong.
They had to be.
Crowne's mysterious rise to power, extortionary science, brilliant business mind, and unexplained funds all pointed to darker, evil intentions.
But Danny? The man's eyes soften by children's laughter. He made silly puns when he wanted to cheer up Dick. He curled around Dick, holding him through nightmares and never asking what they were about.
Danny stepped up for Tim Drake and gave him a home when all signs clearly pointed to the Drakes neglecting their son. Danny was the one who anonymously paid off medical debt, asking nothing in return, not even acknowledgment. Danny was the one who could name all the stars in the sky, yet looked sad when staring upwards.
Danny was the one Dick was in love with, but Danny was also Crowne, and the Bats were gunning to lock him up for the rest of his life.
It tore him to pieces, but Dick pushed himself out of the warm bed. He patted his way to the boxes that still needed to be unpacked. He was the one to convince Danny to buy a house outside the city, knowing the man wouldn't bother to pack appropriately.
This meant he would likely carelessly throw evidence into random boxes—the evidence he needed to finally put him away.
He looked over his shoulder to ensure the other was still sleeping before going through the items. He went through the first five without finding anything, angry at himself for feeling relief until he came across the last box.
Inside were notebooks.
Some date back to the first year Danny was adopted by the Crownes. There were systematic experiments and notes on the portal making, but the worst of all were the files.
Files of the street kids he had moved. With each page turned, Dick found profiles of the kids, where they were found, what they were going through, how they were taken, and where they were placed. There were even several phone numbers of social workers who helped him move the kids about.
A leger of the trafficking ring. All were written in Danny's handwriting. It was a lie, Dick knew, but it was still devastating to realize how evil the darkness within Crowne indeed was.
The very last thing in the box was an engraved ring with Richard Grason on the inside, sitting inside an elegant ring box.
Dick felt sick as he reached up to his earpiece pressing it three times. Bruce picked up with a soft greeting that quickly turned to worry when Dicked choked out through his tears.
"We got him."
#dcxdpdabbles#the adoptive son#Part 5#Angst#Dick and Danny were falling in love#They spent almost a full year togther#Danny wasn't going to propose until a year latter but he saw Dick as his forever#Now the Bats got what they wanted
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Weightless
~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus-size fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky and yn date and his dad’s nasty to her because of her weight (as always, I’m amazing at summaries.)
Word count: 4,707
Warnings: angst. Bucky’s parents being the worst. Bucky being the best. swearing. insecure reader. modern au. being mocked for having a poor background. mentions of cheating (not bucky or reader) ends in fluff
A/N: remember every body is perfect!
Masterlist
Waking up in the warm embrace of Bucky’s arms, he’s warm breath fanning lightly over her neck tickling her ever so slightly. Trying to shift out of his hold causing him to tighten his muscly arms around her.
“Buck I need to go toilet” she whispered.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“You’re warm” is all he says as he pulls her body even closer to his.
“But Buck I really need to wee, I’ll be right back” promising in hopes that he’d let go of her.
“Okay, promise you’d be right back?”
“Promise”
“Gimme a kiss first”
Turning in the arms of her boyfriends she give him a kiss he released her, getting out of the bed she couldn’t stop the small smile from forming watching as he pouted and made grabby hands at her.
Finishing off in the bathroom Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man-child in the bed who was still pouting at her.
“Hurry, I’ve already forgotten what you feel like”
“Dramatic much?”
“Nope” he smirked.
Climbing back into the bed Bucky wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest than before.
“You definitely coming tonight, right?”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Buck”
“Why isn’t it? Me and you all dressed up, free food and booze, dancing, we even have to sneak off to find a bathroom-“
“Have to?”
“Oh it’s a must baby, I’d probably die if we don’t” he says grinning.
“Idiot”
“Plus I know you already have a dress, Nat told me so…”
It’s true Y/n did have a dress already, Nat and Wanda had dragged her shopping with them both in search of a new dress for Bucky’s parents anniversary party. Wanda had actually picked it out for her and at first she was a bit apprehensive until Wanda squeezed her hand with hers and telling her that the dress was in her size.
The girls all but forced her into the changing room with encouraging words and smiles. Y/n had to admit Wanda did pick out a stunning dress for her to try on and when she stood there finally finding the courage to look at herself in the mirror a small smile made its way on to her lips. The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly; not too baggy, not too tight, even her arms looked alright in the dress.
When she stepped outside to where the girls were waiting their jaws practically fell off. Both telling her that the dress was made for her, making her roll her eyes at the pair. A woman had walked by and complimented Y/n which made her blush and smile shyly at her.
However there was a problem with attending the anniversary party with Bucky. Problem being that she hadn’t been given an invite.
Everyone received a formal invitation with no mention of a plus one, Bucky and his sister had even received a card. Nat and her boyfriend Bruce received individual cards, Wanda and her boyfriend had individual cards, same with Steve and his wife Peggy.
But not her.
And at first she thought it was okay as her and Bucky had only been dating for two years but when Wanda told her that Vis had been invited after them only dating for a few months, it hurt. Y/n wasn’t stupid to the knowledge that her boyfriend’s parents didn’t like her, they made that very clear from the moment she had met them, with the questions and judgemental stares, the remarks about the difference between herself and Bucky’s ex Dot was enough to tell her that they did not like or approve of her or her relationship with their only son.
Winifred tolerated Y/n purely for her sons sake, she made the mistake once of calling her Winnie just as everyone else did and she looked at her in absolute disgust and told her not to call her that, that only family and friends can call her by that name.
George made comments about her weight from the beginning. His favourite pass time was to repeatedly remind her of how Dot was perfect for Bucky, he once told her that all she was to Bucky was something to pass the time with until Dot came back, and sadly she agreed with his statement.
Bucky bless his heart didn’t know any of this and genuinely believed that his parents liked his girlfriend.
Since she hadn’t been invited the plan was to make out to Bucky that she was ill right at the last minute, so all she had to do was play along for a few more hours.
“The dress is beautiful I have to admit”
“Just like you. Do you want to get dressed here so we can leave together?”
“Oh um my dress is at my apartment, so you can pick me up for there”
“Or I can come to yours and get dressed?”
Shit.
“My apartments a complete mess” she lied.
“And? Baby we’ll go to yours in a few hours have a shower, get dressed ooh can I braid your hair? I love doing it! And we can leave together, that way I don’t have to be away from you for long and I’ll save money for petrol”
Double shit.
There was no way of being able to back out of this now, she knew that she’d have to go to a party that she wasn’t invited too and hope to a higher power that neither one of his parents say anything.
“Okay”
Bucky happily braided her hair after carefully brushing the knots out. He started to learn how to do it after a couple of months into their relationship and now he was a pro.
“All done baby” he says pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“Thank you Buck”
“Okay, okay go put on your dress, I’m dying to see it”
The smile was no longer present as she looked in the mirror, the dress was no longer perfect, it was tight around her stomach and her arms looked like tree trunks. She looked ridiculous and felt like it.
Tonight was going to be humiliating, she was going to embarrass Bucky in front of his family, his friends and strangers.
“Baby? You nearly done?”
“I-“
“Babe? Is everything alright?”
“I need you to close your eyes for me Bucky”
“Ooh I like this, okay my eyes are closed my love”
Slowly opening the door her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky standing there in his black suit, hair done perfectly and his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips.
“Baby, can I open my eyes now?”
“N-no. No please don’t”
“Y/n? Sweet girl what’s wrong?“
“N-nothing Bucky. I-um-I just remembered-“
“Fuck. Baby you… you’re stunning!”
“What?”
He moved closer to his girlfriend, eyes full of adoration and a hint of lust. “You’re so beautiful, and this dress is so gorgeous on you. I’m so lucky to have you by my side”
Bucky always knew how to make her feel beautiful and confident even in her darkest of moments when the voices in the back of her head get to loud for her to ignore, in the two years of their relationship there’s only ever been two occasions where she didn’t believe him. The first being when the two had sex for the first time and he kept the light on, she had told him he could turn the light off so he was more comfortable, his face contorted in confusion and he reassured her that he wanted to see her as he made love to her, the whole time he spoke words of love and affection. She honestly believed he was lying so he could get what he wanted from her.
And the second time was right now. Standing here in front of him as his eyes moved up and down slowly over her body, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, speaking the words that he spoke daily to her, she just couldn’t help but think that he was lying again.
“Buck, I-I look ridiculous. I think you should just leave an-and tell Nat and Wanda that I fell ill, okay?”
“What are you talking about baby? You look perf-“
“It’s too tight, and look at my arms James. It fit perfectly in the store… I-I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to embarrass you okay? So you go and have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”
“It’s not tight. Your arms are perfect. Nothings happened baby okay. You could never ever embarrass me, hell even if you wore a bin bag I’d still be so proud to call you mine. Sweet girl if you don’t want to go, that’s fine we can stay here and watch films but I’m not going anywhere without you”
“Its your parents anniversary party Buck you have to go, I’ll be fine I promise”
“So? I’m not going without you doll”
That went on for nearly 30 minutes.
“Okay. I’ll go with you but I’m chang-“
“Nope, you’re staying in that dress beautiful girl. Now get your shoes on so we can leave”
At the venue where the party was being held she couldn’t stop fiddling with her fingers and when her eyes saw a man at the door taking names her stomach dropped.
“Names”
“James Barnes and Y/n L/n”
The man looked up at Bucky and smiled letting him through, Bucky held her hand to lead her in when the man’s rough voice stopped the both.
“Excuse me Miss but you’re not on the list.”
“What do you mean she’s not on the list?”
“There’s no Y/n L/n on here sir”
“There’s got to be a mistake.” Bucky frowned, eyes shifting from her to the man.
“No mistake, I’m afraid sir”
“But she’s my girlfr-“
“Buck, it’s okay I’ll just head home. Enjoy your night” Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she pulled her hand away, trying desperately to ignore the stares and mumbles from people around.
“Baby, Y/n hold on a second”
“Bucky it’s fine honestly”
“I’ll ring my dad and see-“
“No babe it’s okay really-“
“Y/n-“
“James, about time you showed up” George’s loud voice interrupted Bucky.
“Dad Y/n’s not on the list for some reason?”
“Oh? That’s strange, anyway come on son your mother wants to see you”
“But dad my girlfriend…”
“Oh fine, she can come in too. Now come”
Bucky’s eyes found hers and she tried so hard to get him to see that she didn’t want to do this but all he did was grab a hold of her hand and followed his father.
Despite how large the room was the air was stuffy, it felt like there was hardly any room for people to move around. Overcrowded and her very own personal hell is the best way to describe the hall.
The lingering looks from those around made Y/n self-consciously pull on the dress, she even tried to breathe in as long as she could.
“Son your mother wants to see you, on your own if you don’t mind” George says the last part to Y/n, nodding and sliding her hand out of Bucky’s she smiled at him - well at least she thought it was a smile it was more like a grimace.
“I’ll be right back okay, Nat and Wanda are over there” pointing over to where the two redheads were her eyes followed.
“I’ll see you soon”
Bucky takes his leave and so does she before George’s hand stops her.
“I want to talk to you” not giving Y/n a chance to reply he all but drags her off and away from the sea of bodies.
“What are you doing here? You wasn’t invited”
“B-Bucky made me come” George raises a thick eyebrow and she quickly notice she mistake “Sir”.
“You look horrendous. There was a reason for why my wife and I didn’t invite a disgusting, fat nobody like yourself, want to know why?”
“W-why sir?”
“Our soon to be daughter in law is here and to be truthful my wife and I can’t be doing with your dramatics, again.”
Again. Y/n knew he was talking about the time Bucky had made her jump causing the glass to fall from her hand and shatter on the floor of the kitchen floor. The apologies that slipped out of her mouth none stop as Bucky assured her that it was okay and he’d clean it up, Winifred hissed “your useless”, she tried to pry the dust pan and brush away from Bucky’s hands so she could clean up the glass but all he did was move her away with a smile on his face.
The glares that were given to her by his parents, aunt and uncle made the tears well up and annoyingly slip out. Y/n felt so bad for breaking a glass that didn’t belong to her and even worse as Bucky was the one cleaning it up.
She didn’t dare tell him that she had a shard of glass stuck in her foot.
“I-I-“
“What does he see in you huh? Must be a decent fuck, that’s the only reason we can see him being with you” he taunted, never in the nearly two years she have been unfortunate enough to know him has he ever spoken to her like this.
“It’s embarrassing that you came to a party that you was not invited too. Did you come to see how the rich live? Your parents too poor to keep a roof over the heads for the gaggle of children your mother shot out of her cunt.” Her nose flared at the way he spoke about her mum, normally she would have defended her but George had managed to render her speechless.
“Listen child this so called relationship between yourself and my son doesn’t make sense, he needs a real woman by his side not someone who is clearly trying to be something it clearly isn’t.” His hand reached out to grab her stomach and pulled, flinching as it happened she tried to pull away. “Dolores and James will get back together, they will get married. Matter of fact he’ll be proposing tonight and my beautiful Winnie and I will be happy to have her as our daughter in law. How about you run along back to the hole you crawled out of”
The small patch of her stomach was still in his hand, she knew that a bruise was already forming, he shoved her backwards.
“Go or I’ll call security.”
Stumbling backwards she turned the corner just to see Bucky standing with Nat, Wanda, Steve and Sam. And Dot. Her arm wrapped around Bucky’s as she clings on to him.
Was the pain there because of the realisation that she never stood a chance of being good enough for someone who proclaimed their love for her at every opportunity they had?
Or was it because of how happy he looked?
Or maybe it was because Dot looked up and locked eyes with hers and smirked.
Either way her heart ached painfully in her chest.
Sticking close to the walls Y/n kept her head down so she wasn’t seen by her now ex-boyfriend and his friends and so that the other party guests wouldn’t see the stream of tears flow down her reddened cheeks.
The exit was just in reach when her name was called.
“Y/n-sweetheart what is wrong?” Peggy asked worriedly.
“I-I-…I don’t feel so good. Bye Peggy”
“Y/n where’s Bucky? He shou-“
“Don’t, don’t tell him I’ve gone okay. It won’t matter anyway, thank you Peggy for being my friend for the pa-past two years”
Y/n sees how her eyebrows flick in confusion but before the British brunette can respond she rushes out through the doors she had come through not that long ago.
The slow drum of her heart feeling heavier with each step she took, the laughter and cheers mocking her pain fading in the background as the tears rolled down and off her cheeks.
“Hey ma” greeting her with a kiss to her cheek Winnie’s face lit up seeing her son.
“Oh Bucky you’ve arrived. Guess who’s here too!”
“A lot of people” Bucky chuckled.
“Dottie’s here” she beamed up at him.
“What? Why is she here?”
“She’s family Buck, stop being rude”
“Did you know that Y/n wasn’t on the guest list?”
“Who?”
The frown Bucky wore deepened, she’s met his girlfriend on numerous occasions. “My girlfriend ma-“
“Oh her, I thought she was your friend”
“Are you joking me right now? She my girlf-“
He’s cut off by a high pitched voice that he hadn’t heard in four years, the voice he had no idea how he put up with for a year. The same whinny voice belonging to the woman he was in love with until she broke up with him out of the blue and then a few days later she was dating the guy who spent year’s tormenting him. Brock.
“Bucky! It’s been so long”
“Hi” he mumbles making sure Winnie notices his death stare.
“How have you been?” Dot goes in to give Bucky a hug, frowning as he takes a step back.
“Fine thanks, ma I’m going to find Y/n I’ll see you in a bit”
“Who’s that?” Dot asks.
“His friend Dottie”
“She’s my girlfriend. Has been for the past two years-“
“Oh…that’s around the time I broke up with Brock, he wasn’t worth my time”
That’s not exactly what happened. Yes she broke up with him but it wasn’t because he wasn’t worth her time but because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend.
He remembers the day he received multiple missed calls, he sat in his car staring at the text message from Dot telling him what had happened and how she had messed up and that she wanted him back. Bucky sat and read the message over and over again he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
Laugh at the fact she had gotten karma, he had a nagging feeling that she had cheated on him with Brock so he thought it was fitting that she had to go through that.
Cry because she had messaged him about her life problems on the day he had his first date with Y/n. It had been two years since Dot had ruined him, two years on and he was still affected by what she had done. Then he met Y/n, he finally gained the courage to ask her out when she said yes he played cool but internally he was screaming.
The day his ex was having the worst day of her life as she put it, he was having the best day of his.
“I need to find Y/n”
“I’ll come with you, I want to meet the girl who’s been holding my place”
Before Bucky had time to respond Dot had wrapped her arm around his and dragged him off.
“Oh guys it’s been so long since I last saw you” Dot squealed as she got closer to Bucky’s friends who were huddled around together.
“What is she doing here Buck?” Nat asked with her arms crossed, Bucky felt like she was staring into his soul with how intense Nat was looking at him.
“I’m his date silly!” The friendship group all snapped their heads towards Bucky whilst his went to Dot.
“Let go of me. I’m not playing Dolores”
“Nope, it’s meant to be me and you James just like we always talked about”
“You’re insane aren’t you? He has a girlfriend who’s a thousand times better than you” Wanda spoke before Bucky could. Wanda never did shy away from making her hatred known for Dot.
“I heard she’s fat.” Dot sneered.
Now it was Natasha’s turn to jump in before Bucky or Wanda could defend Y/n “she isn’t and even if she was it doesn’t matter. Like Wanda said she’s a thousand times better than you-“
Bucky didn’t stop the smile from forming as his friends defended the girl he was in love with, the one who he knew was his everything. The one he brought a ring for with Peggy by his side, the ring sat in his sock draw waiting for their third year anniversary so he could get down on one knee. At first he thought it was a bit too soon but like Peggy reminded him, Steve proposed after only six months and they’d been happily married for nearly five years now.
Bucky is lost in his own little world drowning out his friends who each take it in turns to berate Dot, he’s oblivious to his surroundings and is completely unaware that Y/n sees him with Dot still on his arm, nor does he notice the smirk on Dot’s lips as she makes eye contact with Y/n.
The bubble pops as his father takes the microphone, the hall goes quiet as his father moves closer to his mother. His blue eyes bounced all around the grand hall in search for Y/n, as he does so he tries to shake off Dot.
“-my wife and Is 25th anniversary, truly has and always will be the love of my life-“
George’s voice filters in and out as Bucky starts to worry even more about where Y/n was, he sees Peggy pushing by people in a haste.
“Bucky, it’s Y/n… she’s left and she was crying. I tried to stop her, she thanked me for being her friend for the past two years. What’s going on?” Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Dot and how close she is to Bucky.
“W-when?”
“A few minutes ago.”
Bucky pushes Dot away and makes his way through the crowd, not apologising when he bumps into those in his way.
He gets to the double doors that lead to the hallway, he’s so close he could feel the cold air, when George’s voice that’s amplified by the microphone stops him.
“I want to welcome my son James and his darling fiancée Dolores up on the stage”
Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to face his father with a puzzled look, George’s lips turn into a smirk.
The crowd cheers and claps unaware or unfazed by Bucky’s reaction. He sees Dot moving towards George with a beaming smile, he also sees the glares and confused looks from his friends.
“Come on son, don’t keep you beautiful fiancée waiting” George says through gritted teeth.
Bucky’s feet lead him before his brain can catch up.
He’s halfway through the crowd, ignoring his friends shouting at him in the background Bucky holds his head up even if heart is beating violently. He has to do this, he can’t fail himself or Y/n.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about father. I’m not going to marry Dot, Y/n is my-“
“Say girlfriend I dare you” George growls.
“She is my girlfriend Father”
“She’s a fat nobody who’s only using you for your money, stop playing around and get up here”
Bucky flinches at George’s words, he knows it isn’t true Y/n never lets him spend his money on her. The only time he gets to spoil her is on her birthday or on Christmas. Not once has he ever thought of Y/n being fat, if he’s being honest he’s never noticed her weight to him she’s the definition of perfect.
He knows one day in the future he will regret the heartache he’s about to put his mother through but right now he doesn’t care. Turning his head in his mothers’ direction he sees the smirk she wearing, maybe he won’t regret this. He takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.
“Did you know his secretary he sacked two years ago is his mistress? She’s pregnant, and oh she’s standing just over there”
Though he feels slightly guilty at his mothers’ fallen face and at the tears already gathering in her eyes, he doesn’t stop himself from smiling when his father stands there on the stage in front of everyone he knows spluttering out incoherent words, George’s eyes bounce from Winnie to his mistress who’s trying to blend into the wall, trying hard to get away from the judgemental stares from those there.
“Oh and no I won’t be marrying Dot, congratulations on your 25th anniversary father.” And with that he leaves to find Y/n, laughing at his friends who all cheer at the scene he just caused.
“Baby I know you’re in there, please open up” He knocks for the umpteenth time.
Hearing the familiar clicking of the locks he’s greeted by a red eyes, tear stained cheeks of his love.
And a box.
“T-these are you’re things”
“No baby please let me in, I need to talk to you”
“There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, congratulations on your engagement I-I hope you have a wonderful life”
“I haven’t proposed yet-“
“Oh, okay break up with me then”
“I haven’t proposed yet... to you” he breathes out.
“W-what?”
“Can I come in and explain? Please”
Nodding Y/n opens the door wider for him to enter, Bucky removes the box from her hands replacing his in them instead he leads her to the couch. Wiping the freshly falling tears he tells her what had happened from Peggy telling him that she had left, to his father, right to him outing his father’s affair.
“Bucky!” she scolded; she was there with Bucky when he caught his father having sex with his 22 year old sectary. She tried to convince him that he should tell his mum, held him as he cried after he got himself worked up with all the emotions.
“What? They both had it coming, I also told her that the mistress is pregnant and pointed over to where she stood” he smiles “baby I had no idea what they was doing I swear-wait how did you know about the engagement?”
“Oh… your father told me-“ It was then Y/n’s turn to tell him everything that has happened over the nearly two years of her knowing his parents.
“Ba-baby I-I didn’t know, I’m so sorry” he chokes out, his throat swells up due to him trying not to cry. The guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks when he remembers all the times he dragged her with him to his parents house, or how it took her to tell him everything for things to make sense like how she always shut down for a few days after they spent time with his parents or how she would never eat in front of them, so many things made sense and the guilt was swallowing him whole.
“It’s oka-“
“No its not Y/n, I should of realised and baby I’m so fucking sorry”
“Ma-maybe if you go back and apologise to them they won’t be to mad, maybe they’ll understand and-and you and Dot can still get engaged” she hesitantly says even though it broke her heart.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your fathers right Buck, I’m not good enough for yo-“
“Shut up. Y/n I swear to god don’t say that ever again! Please don’t ever think that you’re not good or enough for me because I can promise you right here, right now that you are and always will be baby”
Before Y/n can respond a knock sounding from the door makes both jump, Bucky goes to open it instantly smiling as their friends all stand there, Sam and Wanda hold up pizza boxes with wide grins on their faces, letting everyone in Steve waits behind.
“Buck, here” the blonde whispers, holding the small box out that he instantly recognises.
“H-how?”
“I’ve got a spare key remember, I really don’t think you should wait Buck.”
“Thanks punk”
“You’re welcome jerk”
Watching from the doorway as his friends make themselves at home and seeing a genuine smile grace Y/n’s beautiful face as she stared back at him.
“I love you” he mouths.
Every time he says them words, he means them with his whole heart his entire begin.
He closes the door behind as his walks towards his future.
Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky x reader#marvel fic#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky angst#bucky fluff#bucky x female yn#bucky x female reader#bucky x plus size reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes
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Jason with a chubby so who likes to give hug and a tad of insecure that he lets her to do so how many times however she wants since he knows well that it a way that helps to ground and clean his so's mind
“Hey, gorgeous!” Your boyfriend happily greeted as he saw you walk through the door to the tiny coffee house, opening his arms so you could crash into him, embrace him into a tight warm hug and bury your face in the crook of his neck (or as much as your height could allow you to).
Jason’s strong perfume wrapped around you, leaving you slightly dizzy. After a while of letting his warmth and smell relax you, you rested your chin on his chest, crunching your face as you looked deep into his blue orbs.
“Why are you giving me this look? You look fucking gorgeous.” he stated, using a free hand to play with the hairs on the nape of your neck. Smashing your face on his chest, you could only shake your head against it, feeling your confidence on a low the entire day.
Tightness engulfed you, as Jason’s arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer, if even possible, to his body. His hugs were a comfort, in the midst of the chaos of the world and your own insecurities. He lets you rest like that for a while, caressing your sides, kissing your temples, and whispering i love yous in your ear. Essentially, being the best emotional support boyfriend you could ever have asked.
“Princess, you’re the brightest girl I know. You’re gorgeous, stunning, and I’ll repeat it religiously until you believe me.” he cooed amidst pecks to your face. “If only you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d love you just as much as I do.”
#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd blurb#jason todd#jason todd fluff#jason todd x you#for everyone that is insecure about their weight#you're perfect regardless#god loves you#i love you#and a number on a scale doesn't mean shit
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i also think the take that leo’s post-movie character shift long term is to distance himself and ~hold himself separate~ from his brothers and treat them a little differently and train all the time etc simply Doesn’t Track btw
doing it as a major initial overcorrection bc of guilt and having to be like intervened with, i can see happening, and overall getting better at buckling down/communicating w his team for sure yeah
but like the idea that that is a change he makes to himself forever going forward (especially if it means his brothers/april not clocking it and calling him out on that nonsense, especially especially if it involves splinter noticing it and ENCOURAGING HIM to keep holding himself apart like that’s so not rise splinter at all) just does not feel right
for me it undermines the core statements that the series and movie are going for: you are not alone, we do it together, he hasn’t seen what we can do when we work together, this isn’t about you (i think this one in particular bc what is withdrawing from your loved ones and holding yourself in a different category bc Must Be Leaderly if not making things about yourself just in a different way to how you were doing it before?)
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt movie#rottmnt leo#rise leo#so so much of the message of the narratives are ultimately about love and togetherness#how self sacrifice can come from a place of love but it is still damaging#how no one can or should carry the weight of everything alone! bc they are not alone!#more than any other tmnt iteration that is what they drive home; the togetherness#one of the emotional high points and triumphs of the finale! is raph realizing all this!#that it's not just on him that they all carry it together and that makes them stronger!#that was like his biggest struggle wanting to shoulder things and be there for everyone#without thinking it was fair of him to ask to lean back on them too (even though they would and did in a heartbeat catch him!!!)#baby leo reached for splinter leo reached for karai when they left her he was in FRONT reaching for raph in the trust fall#he reached for krang zombie raph when they had to leave him behind too like#he's insecure and scared and has a habit of masking his vulnerability but like#he's not gonna withdraw in that way while everyone goes oh well haha thats just how leo is now no they'd fuckin... talk to their brother#idk what im even getting around to anymore im just bummed
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the day people stop talking about my body and my love life is the day i will finally know peace
#i am TIRED#i swear no one gives a shit about me#they only wanna talk about my weight the fact that i don't have a partner and the fact that i don't go to church anymore#and that's it#everything else doesn't matter#the perks of growing up in a catholic family 🙃#you're only good if you're married and talk to god 24/7#(don't mean my parents and sisters but people like my grandparents and aunts and uncles)#yes grandpa i gained weight no i still don't have a partner yes i know i'm a disappointment because i don't go to church anymore#so good to see you it's always nice catching up with you 🙂🔫#everyone is always talking about my body and then they're like oh i don't understand why you're so insecure#oh i don't know elizabeth maybe because you've been bullying me since i was a child#but who knows could be the damn phone right?#UGH i hate everything and everyone
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Hehehe so funny
#vent tag#insecure#feeling insecure#insecurity#my grandma doesn’t call me pretty anymore and just tells everyone I’m fat and no longer sees me as her beautiful granddaughter#this hurt me#I feel like I’m never going to be good enough for this family because they always comment about my weight and make me seem like a joke#I laugh it off to avoid getting harassed by them even more#but it’s coming to the point that I can’t#I feel like my friends are only their to tolerate me and inevitably leave me to rot by myself#I’m dependent on other people and can’t think for myself#i wanna be weightless#I want to be thin#I want to be fit#I never had a problem with my weight before#sure I was a little insecure but I still believed I was pretty#now I don’t think I am#I see myself as an unlikable blob of flesh that doesn’t do anything but drown at their sadness#am I really that pathetic?
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I question sometimes what I go to for the lengths of getting something to soothe my mental state. Showed a plush of a character from a bl webtoon comic (Souta my beloved) to my older bro. If he figures out I read them I don't think he'll see me the same way again. Then again, the order date expires in less than 12 hours so I need it ordered immediatley.
The routes I go for a plush to help me... Doesn't even ship till three days after my birthday. In the meanwhile I will currently be in a not healthy mental state probably and will still continue my break until I get it together.
#idk at this point#really tired#pissed off#at everyone and everything#I am being an asshole right now#Not my fault I'm just being a mood and eating junk food nonstop only to endlessly eat it because I gain like no weight#it's frustrating#I'm also mad I can't gain weight actually too because I feel really insecure right now#then again#i am so done#who gives a fuck#about my life
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The post going around about accomodating anger issues is so fucking true. Like. Even in therapy context, the accomodation isn't always there! From my own experience in a place that was supposed to help people with mental health issues (and did at least an okay job with most):
1) There was this guy who came in after I'd been there for a few weeks. He had anger management issues. And he was thrown out after about a week because he showed - you guessed it - anger!
Okay, so what happened was that he apparently threw a bottle or something. But the thing is. He didn't throw it at anybody, he threw it at a door while being alone in a room. The problem? His roommate came in just when he threw it. (His roomie was fine, if shaken.)
Now I can understand that the roomie didn't want to sleep in the same room as the guy anymore. But they didn't even (as far as I know) try to accomodate the guy with the anger issues. The sensible thing imo would have been to give him a single room. There he could have safely let out his anger without someone randomly walking in (the staff should at least knock before going in, so he'd be warned). But this didn't happen. I guess that guy's insurance didn't cover a single room. 🙃 Even though there was at least one empty one at the time. 🙃
Mind you, the dude was already against therapy in general, complaining how after a week nothing had changed yet (which is an unreasonable expectation to have, yes, but he had it). Do you think he will ever try again? These people didn't even try to help him when he showed freaking SYMPTOMS of what he was THERE FOR.
I don't think he's going to seek help again.
2) Towards the end of my own stay, some bs happened that I won't go into rn. And I became angry. At the therapists, mostly, though it also generally became difficult to shed the anger. I tried going for walks and to the gym, but nothing helped.
The therapists seemed upset that I was so angry at them. (At least some of them.) But I just couldn't stop being so fucking angry, it definitely impacted the rest of my time there. I couldn't really get anything from the sessions anymore.
And the best thing? When I managed to control my anger long enough to actually, through gritted teeth, ask for help with it, they told me that I needed to handle it on my own.
Great, thanks! Because that worked so well! I mean I understand that there is no one way cure all for anger but like. A suggestion would have been nice. Any nudge would have been appreciated. But no, nothing. I still get angry thinking about them.
And it's not like it's gone away. Once those feelings were unlocked, it seems like they never really left. Sometimes I get so fucking angry I feel sick. For hours. With covid and all, at least that's happened mostly when I was at home. But now that everything is opened up again... Well. Let's see how long it takes before I explode into someone's face.
And let's be clear, I do not want to go back. Before, I was severely depressed, partly because I was repressing my own emotions so hard I barely noticed I had any. If you asked me how I was back then my only honest reply could have been 'tired' or 'thirsty' or 'hungry' because I just didn't realize/let myself feel anything else. I still have trouble identifying feelings a lot of the time. They mostly manifest as physical sensations for me.
But, damn. Living with this kind of rage not just inside you but with the possibility that it will break out any moment is. Not great. And I wish I'd been given some tools to deal with that. But apparently that's for me to figure out alone. 🙃
This is not me seeing advice, btw, just want to rant.
#It's oversharing hours#Personal#Sorry for the rant#Might delete later#But that post made me think of this and just *clenches fist*#They were also stupid about everyone's weight but that's a different story#I also feel like I've got way more insecurities now#Like sometimes I panic over really little things and it's stupid but I can't help it#Anyway#Rant over
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Dude shopping in the same clothing sites as my sis knowing I'll get like 10 years of my life shaved off because my sister is SKINNY and none of the clothes there will fit me
#[v won’t stfu]#her natural physique is just being skinny#and im on the fuller side#and grandma on her dad's side is always 'shes so much skinnier than you! you should eat less!!'#like with all due respect#not everyone is a fucking triple zero#and fuck that ive been insecure about my weight my whole life#who tf are YOU to say anything about my weight when you've also been skinny your whole life#got carried away srry#but i feel like shit whenever my sis looks SO good in stuff and I dont#and ik it shouldnt make me feel bad not my fault shes just naturally skinny#but its still so frustrating#like i fucking hate when she goes 'best thing about me is that I have naturally more hips'#she knows i dont like my hip dips
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Desperately wishing for more media that shows weight gain as a POSITIVE thing, we've been getting (slightly, not much) more media where being fat is at least somewhat neutral but truly I wanna see it be an actively positive thing, character gains weight to show their growth or that they're healing, character gains weight and is actively ecstatic about it, fat characters getting to be sexy for their fatness in a way that isn't meant to be subversive or a joke :(
#thoughts from the dufflebag#weight mention#not to ramble about my own experience but#from depression to disordered eating to financial insecurity#when I'm actively doing better in life i gain weight#like when I'm at my happiest i put on a good extra 30ish pounds#which visibly is noticable because of how short i am#and its nice!!!!#i like myself chunkier!!!!! it makes me happy!!!!!#it just sucks seeing weight gain being used as short hand for 'this character has really let themself go and is depressed rn'#im sure that's a lot of peoples experience with weight and that's valid#but its not everyones and it sucks that's the default for showing a character falling into a slump
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25 Laws of power for women
Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.
Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon
Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.
Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say “I forget my keys all the time,” “I don’t know how to perfectly park a car “. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.
Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.
Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other women’s style
Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.
You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.
Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!
Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.
Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.
We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, don’t expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.
Don’t attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.
Choose yourself all the time; never put any one’s feelings above yours.
Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go
Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.
Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them
Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then don’t ask them for their opinions or please them.
Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.
Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.
Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.
Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.
Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isn’t subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.
Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Don’t push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.
Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.
Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.
#self improvement#self love#growth#mindfulness#self development#beauty#education#self care#classy#self help#power#new books#booklover#book review#book quotes#books#biography#self control#self discipline#self worth#students#smart#emotions#emotional intelligence#self growth#discipline#get motivated#life goals#gratitude#femininity journey
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love noticing/feeling the (unproblematic) asimmetry of my physique. <3
#←this gal just noticed hes got lopsided pussy#also had to mention ~unproblematic~ bc besties smth about me legs/its weight distribution is uneven#and oh My Lord that is such an Issue#but when it's just cosmetic stuff that doesnt impact anything beyond looks it's fine <3 preferable even‚ dare i say <33#throwback to when i noticed me nostrils were lopsided as well#it was so minute no one would notice it unless am being very very still and theyre very very paying attention#and i told mak excitedly about it and she reassured me that it was fine‚ it was normal; everyones a bit asimmetrical#bc she thought it was an insecurity thing and i was also That Age#so i told her like no! this is good! i like this!!#and she went oh ok!! then remind me again that everyones a bit asimmetrical#but it was so i didnt get carried away thinking am so Special and Unique this time around lmfaooooo love that woman
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Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade
Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut
To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:
He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...
Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all
"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name
But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight.
Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of
At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question
Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍
dinosaurs are cool
The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod
I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr
As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...
#ethoslab fanart#ethoslab#listen I have an ankylosaurus as my sona of course Im a dinosaur nerd#trafficblr#I feel so weird having so few tags um.#hey ethogirls how are you doing whats your guys' favorite dinosaurs#tubby art
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fall into temptation | three
Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader
series masterlist l previous chapter
summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 10k
a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.
Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”
“What’s she doing holding his hand?”
“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”
Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.
His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.
Solid. Steady.
Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?
Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.
It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.
His youngest daughter.
Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.
“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”
“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”
“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”
“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”
Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.
Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.
Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.
“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”
“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”
Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.
“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”
It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.
The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.
Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”
Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”
Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.
“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”
Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.
If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.
Not after Joel Miller was through with him.
Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.
Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?
“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”
Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”
“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”
Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”
You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.
“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”
Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.
Watching. Observing. Waiting.
He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.
“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.
He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”
Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.
It caused something inside of you to finally give way.
Snap.
The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”
For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.
“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”
It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.
It was your father.
Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.
Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.
Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.
“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”
Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”
That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”
“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.
Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.
“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”
Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.
“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”
Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”
His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.
“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”
The first thing he did was light the fireplace.
“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”
“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.
Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”
“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”
“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”
Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.
“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”
You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”
“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”
“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”
Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”
His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”
“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.
Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”
Of course not.
You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.
Still.
The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.
Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.
Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.
No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.
He wouldn’t believe them.
“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”
Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”
The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.
There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”
No. That’s not what you wanted.
You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.
But that freedom came with a high, high price.
You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?
“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.
“What?”
“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”
Confused, all you could do was stare at him.
“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”
Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.
“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”
“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”
His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”
“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.
He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”
Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”
“What is it, darlin’ girl?”
“Kiss me. Please.”
With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.
You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.
“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”
“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”
“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”
You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”
“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”
His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.
“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”
Christ.
No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.
With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.
“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.
Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”
Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”
All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.
With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.
Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”
Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”
His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.
Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.
With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.
Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.
You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.
Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.
“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.
Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.
“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.
“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.
“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.
“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”
Yours.
Yours, yours, yours.
Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”
“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”
“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”
Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.
Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”
You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.
“Yeah? Y’trust me?”
Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”
Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”
Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.
He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”
With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.
“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.
You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.
Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.
“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”
Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”
Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.
“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”
You whimpered. “Yes.”
“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”
Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”
“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.
Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.
Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.
You opened wider. “Please.”
“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.
“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”
Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.
Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?
“Oh God.”
You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.
Not when something this sinful was being done to you.
Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.
“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”
Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.
Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.
Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.
Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.
Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.
Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”
Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”
He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.
If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.
The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.
Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got you,” he promised.
You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”
Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.
“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.
He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.
Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”
Surely, you would be the death of him.
He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?
There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”
And you did.
Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.
“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.
“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”
You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.
Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”
With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”
“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.
It was the second time you’d uttered His name.
Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.
“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.
He was getting closer and closer.
Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.
“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”
No way he could live his life without you now.
He needed you.
He needed you so much more than you needed him.
Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.
“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.
His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”
Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.
He was begging you.
Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?
“Joel,” you choked.
“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”
Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”
A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.
Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.
“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”
He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”
Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.
Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”
Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.
Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Mean what, Joel?”
There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”
Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”
“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.
“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”
“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”
“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”
You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.
The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.
Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.
The nerves began to set in.
Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.
With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.
He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.
You could have laughed. You almost did.
“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”
“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”
“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.
His chest swelled with warmth.
Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.
He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”
“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”
He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.
“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”
He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.
He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”
Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.
I’ve got you.
divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍
#fic: fall into temptation#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller series#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller angst#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#post outbreak joel
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☆ I WANNA BE YOURS — GOJO SATORU
summary: your best friend was used to picking up the pieces of all your heartache. and he's been idly waiting for the day that he could have you all to himself — but when he you give him a chance just for you to snatch it away you realise you might just loose more than his heart.
w/c: 3.3k
cw: afab!reader angst to fluff, you break his heart and put it back together again by giving him a great big blowjob so mdni! also unprotected sex (its more like making love if you ask me)
an: I actually really fw this fic. id say it was my best one yet so give it a chance people, just like how you should give gojo a chance. since he's actually super loveable here. hope you enjoy!
gojo satoru was hopelessly in love with you, and everyone seemed to know that, but you. he was your best friend, someone that you relied on, depended on, its been that way since you were kids. ‘she’d never see me that way,’ he’d whine to all his friends about you, whenever they’d see you together, holding hands, cuddling, but still proclaiming the title as ‘just friends.’
you were currently crying in his arms, as he consoled you, caressing your back. gojo was used to this routine by now – you’d get a boyfriend, they’d break your heart, and he was left to pick up the pieces. “i just don’t get how this one failed, i thought i was doing everything right,” you mumble, your voice breaking as you sniffle against his chest.
“they just don’t appreciate how great you truly are,” he comforts you, a silent “i do though,’ left unsaid, as he stares down at your tear stained face.
“satoru?” you ask, pulling slightly away from him, “i'm pretty, right?”
“don’t even ask me that shit,” he scoffed, “you already know the answer.”
“just answer.” you did know what his answer would be already, but you just had to hear it, “i just need to know why all my relationships end.”
“listen to me,” he demands, tenderly holding your face in both of his hands, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you, “you're beautiful. you always have been, and it's not even just your looks, it’s your whole being, everything about you. there’s nothing wrong with you, you just have a terrible taste in guys,” he finishes with a goofy smile trying to lighten the mood.
“yeah, maybe you're right,” you reply with a soft sigh, your gaze dropping to avoid his intense stare. It was both comforting and unnerving how he could always see through your insecurities.
“i don't say things i don't mean, you know that.” he tilts your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. “anyways we should prob–”
you press your lips against him, interrupting his sentence, and he eases into it, his lips moving against yours with no hesitation. but you pull away as quickly as you kiss him, your eyes widening as you realise what you’ve done. “shit im sorry satoru, i didn’t mean that.”
the air around you seems to shift, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the unexpected moment. you can feel your cheeks flushing, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. his fingers brush against your jaw, gently guiding your gaze back to his. the intensity in his eyes is undeniable, a silent acknowledgment of the shared feelings that had been hovering beneath the surface for so long.
"fuck that," he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. he closes the gap between you again, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.
the softness of your lips against his is a sensation he’s dreamt of, and now that it's happening, it's even more intoxicating than he imagined. his hands cradle your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepens the kiss.
his lips move against yours with a skilled finesse, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady mixture that leaves you breathless. your fingers find their way to his hair, tangling in the silken strands as you pull him closer, your bodies pressed together.
“satoru, i need you.” you tug against the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his. you were desperate, craving his touch, “need you to make me feel better.”
gojo took your words seriously, aiming to make you forget about all the heartache you’ve ever felt with those other guys, and focus only on him. he lays you down on the couch, unbuttoning your shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra.
“don’t worry, ‘m gonna take care of you,” he mutters, pressing kisses into your cleavage, until his lips eventually circle your nipple, suckling and pulling at it. you gasp slightly at the feeling of his tongue swirling on your tits. your hands go back into his hair, roaming through his scalp, tugging hard as he bites down on your nipple.
his mouth remains on you, his hand trailing down into your underwear, rubbing circles on your clit. you whimper at the contact, feeling yourself getting wetter as his fingers enter you, he starts off slow pushing his digits in you gently.
“is this okay?” he asks, he wanted to make sure you felt good, that was his priority. he grins as you nod, too caught up in your pleasure to verbally respond. his quickens his pace, gyrating his fingers into you, pressing another searing kiss on your mouth.
you were dripping over his digits, as they pistoned in and out of you, but your hands reach out to his belt as you moan out, “‘toru i wanna feel you.”
“you wanna feel me huh?” he teases, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, he pulls out his hardened dick and strokes it a few times before rubbing it down your wet slit – teasing you with just his tip.
“c-c’mon,” you whine, grinding your hips down against him. he smirks at your excitement, forcing his dick inside you, your eyes widen as your pussy stretches and gojo can only bite down on his lips as you clench around him.
“you feel so good, y’know that right” he murmurs, forcing himself into you deeper, “so fuckin’ tight.” his eyes stay fixed on you, he loves you like this – pinned under him, clawing at his back, your mouth parting at the pleasure that he’s giving to you.
your legs wrap around his hips as he sinks into you further, you could feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear, “you’re perfect, this is perfect.” he sucks on your collar bone, kissing and biting as he continues to thrust into you.
“‘you’re t-too much, i-it’s too much.”
“but you’re taking me so well,” he argues, with a grin. peppering kissing against your neck as he fucks you to a hilt. your hands find their way back into his hair, pulling and tugging at it as you moan out his name.
his dick twitches inside you as you call at his name, you could feel that he was about to cum. his strokes were getting sloppier, and his mouth went from biting to sucking on your neck. you could feel yourself about to climax, scratching at his back, as he continues to hit your spot.
“toru, i’m about to–”
“cum with me,” he demands, thrusting into you a few more times before you both reach your peak. and just before he’s about to release into you, his whispers a barely audible “i love you” right in your ear. he sprays your walls and you cum all over him, mixing in with him. he slumps down on you, pressing his forehead against yours, his dick remaining in you as he catches his breath.
as you finally disentangle your bodies, gojo reclines on the couch, a blissful smile gracing his lips. his breathing gradually transforms into gentle sighs, a sure sign that he has succumbed to sleep. you weren’t oblivious to his feelings towards you – the way his gaze would linger a little too long, how his hugs would be tight and comforting. he was in love with you – and you didn’t know how to deal with that.
all of your relationships never lasted, they always had an issue with something you did. you ruined them. and you didn’t want to ruin gojo, you’ve been together since you were children and he’s always been so good to you. you couldn’t bear the thought of causing gojo pain.
your gaze lingers on him for a moment longer before you turn away, your mind racing with a storm of thoughts. you've been friends for so long, and the prospect of losing that connection is heartbreaking. but you also can't ignore the truth that's been staring you in the face – gojo's feelings have crossed the line from friendship to something deeper.
as you quietly gather your clothes, your heart aches with conflicting emotions. you've always been there for each other, and the thought of hurting him tears at your very core. with a heavy sigh, you dress in silence, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
“you’re really just gonna leave?” he calls out behind you as you head to the door, your hand frozen on the handle.
“satoru,” you gasp, turning to face him guiltily, “i thought you were asleep.”
“you were actually just gonna leave?” he accuses further, ignoring your comments, “after this, after what we just did?”
“this doesn’t change anything,” you say shaking your head with your eyes closed, you couldn’t see his face.
“it doesn’t change anything?” he scoffs, standing up, walking over to you, “how can you say that? after i've given you my all, literally everything i can offer to you, and that still isn’t enough.”
"i was scared, toru," you ramble, the truth spilling out of you, your voice catching as you admit your own fear. he was upset, this was the last thing you wanted, him looking at you, his eyes pleading for you to choose him,"i've seen how my past relationships have crumbled, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you too."
his gaze softens for a moment, his fingers itching to reach out to you. "but things can just go back to the way they were with us," you continue, your words wavering, unsure if they're just a desperate attempt to keep things safe and familiar.
“i think we both know they can’t,” he says bitterly, his hand clenches at his side, “just answer this. why was it never me?”
“i’d ruin you,” you explain, your hand reaching out towards his, a soft smile on your face, “you’ve seen how i am with all those other guys. you’re too good for me.”
"no, I'm not good enough for you," he concludes, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and sadness. he takes a step back, his expression conflicted, as if grappling with his own internal turmoil.
with your eyes brimming with unshed tears, you watch as he rushes past you, his departure leaving an ache in your chest. "you stay, I need to clear my head," he mutters, his voice strained, and then he's gone, leaving you standing there, torn between your fears and the feelings you've been trying to deny.
as gojo stormed out of the apartment, his emotions were a tangled mess within him. the mixture of frustration, hurt, and longing had him feeling like he was caught in a whirlwind. he couldn't believe how everything had escalated so quickly, how he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, only to feel tossed aside.
“suguru, i fucked up,” he cries into the phone to his best friend, his voice laden with distress, “i fucked up so bad.”
“satoru, calm down,” geto tries to soothe him, his tone steady, “what exactly did you do?”
“I fucked her,” he forces the words out, a mixture of regret and frustration in his voice, and he could sense geto wince on the other end of the line, “she kissed me, and i fucked her.”
"that's a good thing, isn't it?" geto's voice holds a note of confusion.
gojo's sigh came through the phone, heavy with a sense of defeat. "bro, she doesn't love me back," he practically wails, the weight of his realisation crashing over him, "she doesn't love me back. i got too greedy, she gave me an inch and i took it too far.”
"are you sure?" geto inquires, his tone thoughtful, "she wouldn’t have agreed to have sex with you if she wasn’t feeling something. i've seen you two together, i've seen how she looks at you. she loves you."
"if only it were that simple," gojo mutters, frustration lacing his words. "she said it doesn't change anything between us. that it was just a moment of weakness."
there was a pause on the line, geto processing gojo's words. "look, satoru, I know it's not easy, but maybe she's just scared. she literally just got out of a break up too, she’s probably just overwhelmed."
"but what if I've ruined everything?" gojo's voice was laced with uncertainty. "what if I've made things worse?"
"you won't know unless you talk to her," geto advises, his voice gentle yet firm. "honesty is the best way to navigate this situation. tell her how you feel, listen to what she has to say, and go from there."
gojo sighs, his tension slowly easing as he absorbs his friend's words. "you're right. i need to face this head-on."
"good, this whole ‘will they? won’t they?’ schtick that you two have going on, has gotten old. very old.” geto finishes, abruptly ending the call.
gojo takes a deep breath, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. he knew he had to confront the situation, to lay his feelings on the line and hope for the best. with a newfound resolve, he gathers his thoughts and prepares to have the difficult conversation that lay ahead.
“you came back,” is the first thing you say, when gojo enters the apartment. you couldn’t gauge his mood, his expression was off, and you didn’t want to upset him further.
“well it is my apartment after all,” he spits out a bit too coldly, his words laced with tension. however, his face softens as he takes a step toward you, the coldness melting away,, “besides i didn’t go far, just outside.”
you nod in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say. your uncertainty making it hard to find the right words. the atmosphere is tense, and you're acutely aware of the weight of the situation between you.
"i had some time to think," gojo starts, his voice softer now, "and i realised that running away from this won't solve anything."
his words draw your attention, and you meet his gaze, searching for any clues in his eyes. "satoru, I'm sorry about what happened earlier. i shouldn't have acted on my emotions like that."
“it’s ok i-”
“no it’s not okay,” you insist, stepping towards him grabbing his hand, “i never should of acted that way, disregarding like you’re nothing. i was wrong.” you had time to think after gojo left, and you knew you were being unreasonable. there was a guy who was ready to love you, give you his all, and you were just going to throw him away without a chance.
he weight of your words hangs between you both, the air thick with the shared acknowledgement of your mistakes. and as the intensity of the moment settles, a newfound sense of clarity takes hold – the understanding that your feelings for each other can't be ignored, no matter how much you try to suppress them.
“you really fucked w my feelings y’know,” gojo’s words hang in the air, heavy with hurt. his eyes bore into yours, his emotions laid bare.
“i know,” you reply softly, your voice laced with regret, “and i’m so sorry toru. i never meant to hurt you like that. i was scared, and i didn’t know how to handle my own feelings so i lashed out.”
gojo's gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "you were scared? of what?"
"of losing you," you admit, your voice quivering slightly as you reveal your deepest fear. "you mean so much to me. you're my best friend, and I was afraid that if we crossed that line, it would ruin everything we have."
a mixture of emotions passes over gojo's face – surprise, realisation, and something else, something that you can't quite pinpoint. "you think being with me would ruin our friendship?" he asks, slightly offended.
you shake your head, your eyes locking onto his. "no, that's not what I meant. I just... I've seen how my past relationships ended, and i didn't want the same thing to happen with us. i didn't want to hurt you or lose what we have."
“i love you.” he declares simply, “that’s all that matters.” you couldn’t even respond because he was right, nothing else mattered. he places a gentle kiss to your forward, wrapping his arms around you.
“let me make me it up to you,” you whisper, looking up at him bashfully through your eyelashes, “let me show you how much i love you.”
“you don’t have to–” he starts, but he pauses, taking a sharp inhale as your hands slip into his jeans. you peck his lips before working his way down to your knees. you take his dick out, licking your lips as you stroke him, massaging his dick. you pepper kisses all over the tip, still keeping your eyes trained on him.
“c’mon don’t be a tease,” he whines as you focus on his tip, sliding your tongue around it as you continue to pump his dick with your hands.
you take him into your mouth, its warm and wet as you suck him in. you move your hands to cup his balls with a firm grip, massaging them as you continue to twist your mouth on his dick. you can hear him lightly cursing, drying his best to moan out at the pleasure you’re giving him. but you were determined to get him to cry out your name.
he was loving the sight of you, mouth stuffed, slobbering all over him. you were sloppy, just how he liked it, using your saliva and his precum to glide your mouth over and over his dick.
“f-fuck,” he stammers, biting down on his fist, he usually last way longer than this. but the difference is you, he would’ve never had imagined that there’d be a day you’d be on your knees all pretty, swallowing his dick. but now that you are, he wanted to burst.
you could tell that he was close, so you jut your head faster, using your hands to pump what your mouth can’t cover. he thrust into your mouth, aiding you in reaching his climax, forcing his dick deeper into your inviting mouth.
“you’re mouths t-too good, it’s–” his hands rest on your head as he releases into your mouth. you swallow all of him, licking your lips, satisfied.
“now toru,” you coo, with a smirk standing up to face him, “can you see how much i love you now?”
the rest of the night was spent just like many others you had shared together over the years, wrapped in each other’s arms in the comfort of his bed. this time, however, it wasn’t masked under the guise of friendship, you now exchange kisses with ‘i love you’ said in between each one.
AN: and that is all folks, TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS I actually dislike the friends to lovers trope, not gojos biggest fan, and I hate sucking dick BUT I LOVE IT ALL HERE. HE'S ACTUALLY REALLY REALLY SWEET, AND DONT U JUST WANT A GUY THATS DOWN TO JUST LOVE YOU! DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE.
#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut
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any thots on chubby könig? i saw your post about simon gaining weight during leave, and now you have my könig infected brain thinking about könig :(
he'd be ashamed and almost slightly insecure about gaining weight, he goes too hard on himself because he grew up larger than everyone else...
but when you run your pussy against his chubby stomach, moaning out blissfully with tears in your eyes, he seemingly doesn't have an issue with his weight gain anymore ;3
or his thighs :( grinding against him while groping the soft flesh in his burly, meaty arms :(
feel free to delete or ignore, my dove !!! hope you're doing well ☀️🫂🌷
ORLA HI!! this is my first time writing for könig... trembling rn. (his debut into the ruruverse)
chubby könig can’t help but remember all the bullying he had endured when he was in school for his height and other stuff. he’d look at the soft layer of fat adorning his otherwise built torso with so much disdain, determined to lose the fat by working out even more before the next deployment. plus he wanted to look good for you!
you on the other hand simply adored how soft he had gotten. you loved resting your cheek on his meaty bicep, or on his warm squishy pecs (you’d squish them sometimes, he’d get all cocky after that).
though what truly boosted his ego back was when you were straddling him, wet cunt clumsily rubbing against his soft tummy while your hands were laid on his chest for balance, sweet little moans leaving your lips. your clit would nicely be rubbing against his skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
and he was simply enamored by the sight of you pleasuring yourself with his tummy.
“f-feels so good, könig…”
“ja? i can see that.” he huffed, his warm rough hands gently holding into your waist, groaning a bit as your fingers squished and dug into his soft pecs, your body trembling.
he’d make you lick your cum off his tummy after that, all while grinning victoriously like an idiot.
you really did wonders on his ego.
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