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#it has been posted now I must search for the ones I have missed
pixlokita · 1 year
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Because @cookieruma29 and @berryberrydairy and me were talking about this AU where Michael is evil and Rich but also a dad bdkdbdk so I doodled some stuff and @cookieruma29 colored it so pretty so I’m sharing it here ^^💖
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ja3yun · 2 months
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
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joelscruff · 1 year
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one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+
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here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).
The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.
You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.
"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."
You're no longer his patrol partner.
You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.
"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."
Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.
--
The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.
He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.
Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.
--
Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.
Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.
At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.
"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.
He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."
Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.
"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.
"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."
"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.
Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.
Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.
"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"
"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."
"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"
You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."
Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.
"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.
"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."
Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.
"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."
You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:
"He's...uh...friendly."
You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."
--
You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.
"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."
"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."
"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."
He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.
"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."
He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.
"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."
The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.
"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.
"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."
"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."
You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"
You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."
I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.
"So I figured I'd ask you."
You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."
"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."
"Which is...?"
He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."
You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.
"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."
"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"
You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.
"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."
"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"
"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."
"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.
"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."
"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."
"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."
You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."
"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."
He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.
"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."
"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."
"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."
"Maybe."
He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.
He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.
You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.
In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.
The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.
A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.
No one's there.
Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.
--
Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.
"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."
You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.
She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.
--
On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.
It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.
You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.
"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."
You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.
You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."
"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"
You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.
"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.
You know who'd never do this? Joel.
After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.
"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.
It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.
"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?
"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."
"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."
"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."
"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."
"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"
That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.
"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.
You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.
"But-"
"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."
"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"
"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.
"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."
"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."
"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"
He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"
"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."
He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"
"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."
"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.
You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.
"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."
His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.
"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.
Joel doesn't follow you.
--
Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.
Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?
Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.
But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.
"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."
No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?
You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.
"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.
--
It doesn't.
You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.
"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"
No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.
You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.
All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.
--
It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.
"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."
No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.
"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.
No reply.
Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.
You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.
The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.
--
You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.
Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.
You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.
Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.
A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.
"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."
It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.
Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.
It's not Steve you're thinking about.
It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.
--
It's pitch black when you wake up.
You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.
"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.
You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.
"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."
"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."
"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.
"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"
You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."
"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."
This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.
You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.
"Steve?" you whisper.
Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."
You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"
"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.
You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.
Reality dawns on you.
"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.
She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."
You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?
You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.
"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."
"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."
You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.
"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."
Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."
She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.
Joel.
"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.
You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."
You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?
"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."
"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"
She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."
Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"
She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."
You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."
Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"
You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.
"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."
You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."
She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."
"But-"
She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."
You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.
"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"
She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."
You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."
"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."
You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."
"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"
"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."
"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."
Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.
"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."
"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"
She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."
You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."
"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."
You nod, "I do."
She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."
She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.
"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."
You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.
You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.
You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.
"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.
"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."
"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."
She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.
You burst into tears.
--
Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.
"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."
Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.
--
They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.
You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.
Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.
"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.
Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.
Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.
Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.
"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.
"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."
"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."
He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."
You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"
"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."
"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."
He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."
For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.
"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"
Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"
Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."
"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"
"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."
You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."
"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."
"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."
"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.
Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."
She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"
"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"
She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."
--
"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"
"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."
You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.
"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."
"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"
He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."
You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.
"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.
He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."
--
The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.
You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.
You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.
Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.
A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."
Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.
"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.
"Good," you say with a smile.
He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"
His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.
"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."
He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."
"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."
"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."
You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.
"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."
"Joel-"
"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."
"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."
He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."
"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."
"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."
He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.
"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."
You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."
His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."
You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.
"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"
He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.
You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.
After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.
"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.
You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.
"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."
"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"
"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.
--
You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.
At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.
A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.
"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."
The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.
"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."
There he is.
You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.
"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."
"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."
"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."
The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.
"How?" you breathe, voice weak.
He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.
"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."
The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.
"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."
"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."
"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"
"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.
"Say it."
"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."
He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."
With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.
"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.
"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."
The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.
"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"
You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."
His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.
"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"
"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.
"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."
You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.
"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."
You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?
He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.
"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.
Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.
"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."
--
Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.
"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"
Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.
"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."
You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."
"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."
"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.
"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."
You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."
He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."
You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.
"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."
You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.
"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."
You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."
You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.
"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."
You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"
He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."
You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.
"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.
"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.
"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."
"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."
"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."
You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.
"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.
"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.
You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.
The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.
"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.
He pulls his mouth away.
"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"
He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.
"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"
He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.
"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."
"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."
You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."
"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.
"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.
"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.
You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.
"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"
He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.
"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."
Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?
"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."
You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.
"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."
"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."
It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.
It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.
"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."
"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."
He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.
"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."
"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."
It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.
"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."
He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.
"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."
You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.
"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.
"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.
Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.
"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."
You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.
"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."
He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.
Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.
After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.
"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."
"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.
He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.
"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."
"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."
"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."
He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.
"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"
"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."
Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.
"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.
"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."
He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."
You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.
"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."
You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.
"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."
"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."
--
He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.
But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.
"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.
"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."
He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"
"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."
He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."
You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.
"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."
He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.
"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."
"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."
He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."
You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.
"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"
You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.
"I thought you'd never ask."
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i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.
let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖
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bangficsx · 3 months
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PLANNERS
pairing : jungkook x reader insert
word count : 7777 [coincidence ;)]
synopsis : wedding planner hooks up with the bride's cousin
warning : slight dry humping, teasing, blowjob, fingering, cum swallowing, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it's just a fic), a dick pic i don't think there's anything else..
"I already got the number given for how many tables and chairs are to be set up" the man tells you, leaving you in disbelief.
"I think you have a misunderstanding. I'm the event manager. I was supposed to have a meeting with you about it." You try to put forward your argument which gets dismissed again immediately.
"A certain gentleman came two hours before and told me everything in detail" the man answers getting irritated by your insistence about his mistake.
"Now please do not waste my time miss. I've got a lot of other clients." You turn around and roll your eyes, stomping forward murmuring "again".
It wasn't the first time your job got done by your customer. You have never met one like this before in the hundreds of weddings and events you've arranged. Why pay a hefty sum to you if they want to do everything on their own?
You make up your mind and set out on a quest to find the mysterious man who keeps completing the tasks he hired you to perform. And you've already assumed he must be the typical arrogant asshole from your nightmares.
The next morning, you leave for the photographer's studio three hours early. You were supposed to meet them to decide the lighting and type of camera that is to be used. What kind of shots the couple wants.
In your two year long career, you've never had an upset client. You try your best to deliver the exact kind of wedding they must've dreamt of for their whole lives.
The wedding ceremony is one of the most important events of a human's life. The most joyous celebration that unites two individuals and families together.
And you make those dreams come true. It's in your hand to control all that is controllable on that most special day of someone's life.
This wedding is by far the most expensive one you've ever handled. Usually you would manage two or three in a month. But they put a condition asking  you only focus on theirs for the month the wedding's scheduled in.
The groom started his own tech company at just 20 and earned a name for himself. While the bride is the ceo of a pharmaceutical company her dad left to her.
You ask your photographer if they got any emails about your event and when they checked they actually had one. You asked them for the address ensuring them there would be no consequences.
When you search the email address, you find it mentioned on a linked in account. You assume it must be the bride Si-young's cousin as you clearly remember her telling you she doesn't have any siblings of her own.
You find the man has attended a business school abroad and has professional posts about the company. Again you assume, he must work in the company too. Probably hold some influential position and hence, acts like such an asshole.
You also come from a well to do family yet you never understood why rich people spend money on services they don't even use.
You look at the picture of the man carefully. A pretty good looking man for sure. And you smirk when you find him in the car that's driving up the street just like you expected.
You feel stupid that you'd shared the schedule with them to assure everything would be done in time. There was a fair amount of time left yet you were working everyday as it was a big scale event, a grand affair. Two business tycoons coming together along with their souls and hearts.
You walk upto the spot where he parks his car. Resolute to give him an earful about what has been happening for the last week.
You stand with your hands folded waiting for him to ask what you want and to gladly tell him to let you do your job. He walks past you and enters the studio leaving you gasping.
You stomp your feet and follow him. Fuming in anger, you call behind him "excuse me mister what do you think are you doing huh?"
He keeps talking with the photographer showing her samples that you were supposed to show and tells them they want better ones than those.
"Mr Jeon!" You call him again. He finally turns around.
"Can I help you?" He asks as if he's clueless.
"Yes. I think you're aware that Ms Si-young and her fiancé have appointed me as their wedding planner. I'm the one whose supposed to perform the tasks you've been performing. It's my job" You finally release all your pent up frustration.
"It's complicated" he says and turns around to continue his conversation.
"Excuse me sir do you not understand how much inconvenience you've been causing me. I have been wasting my precious time and money to travel miles only to find you've already done the job" you shout unable to believe something like this could ever happen.
"Look it's not my problem. I told Si-young that I would look after every little detail about her wedding. It's not my fault if she paid someone to do it. Just keep the money." He says with an expression that says he wants you to fuck off but you aren't going to give up so easily.
Going away with free money is easy. But you're not gonna do that. It's a large sum of money that you received. And you need to manage this event to enhance your portfolio. Grabbing this opportunity is so far your biggest achievement. If you do this you'd be able to kick all the asses that laughed on your face when you told them your career choice was becoming an event manager.
And your stubbornness resulted into the gentleman bringing you to a café to explain to you why he wants to arrange everything by himself. How much it means to him. What Si-young denies to accept.
"Her dad died when she was nineteen. She was abroad studying when he was on his deathbed. I was by his side through out his sickness. And his dream was to have a perfect wedding for his only daughter. Look she's the only thing he ever had. Her mother died before he could marry her. He meant a lot to me because you see my dad all our fortune drinking and gambling. Uncle took me in and provided me with the best of opportunities and education and in turn it helped me send money to my family. He saved us and now I want to fulfill his last wish and dream. That's why I want to arrange the whole wedding. Ensure everything is absolutely perfect. Si-young likes to flex her money, she thinks just spending lots of money will get her the perfect wedding day. She doesn't understands only someone who deeply cares and loves her would ensure perfection." You feel attacked and he surely knows he's being rude to make you run but you're not going to, not so easily.
You've had enough experience dealing with people who won't trust you. Parents of brides and grooms, brides and grooms themselves, even your own parents.
You quickly pull your tablet put and open your browser which already has a tab open with your website on it.
"Well Sir I'd like to tell you I've been an event manager with an expertise in wedding planning for two years now. I've successfully managed a hundred weddings now and this is my profile. As you can probably see with your own eyes I'm able to put up the best possible events." You tell him proudly because nobody else ever takes pride in you.
"Look I've told you I want to do it and I'm going to do it no matter how much you try to" he says again and you can't bear it anymore.
You lash out "You don't understand how hard I've worked to get here alright. I've worked my ass off the past four years. Two years as an intern where I worked like a dog and then at my own company. I have been able to get here based on sheer hard work and nothing else. I'm not gonna let you snatch it away from me." He watches your nostrils flare, and your skin turn red.
"Alright calm down. Take a deep breath" he says before he sighs.
"Please" You can't believe yourself and takes everything in you to stoop like this but you speak the word out.
It's the way you ask him that he relates to you in some sense. He knows what working hard is like and can tell from your eyes you're speaking the truth.
"Can we do it together then?" He offers.
You roll your eyes at him, contemplate then answer "fine"
"So easy.. you had to make it so hard" he chuckles and you look away trying to hide your smile.
"At least get a black coffee for self respect. You're embarrassing me along with yourself" You point out that you two have been sitting for too long without ordering something.
"Sorry" he mumbles before ordering.
"It's okay" you respond.
"You just wanna... keep... sitting on the same table" he asks fearing another outburst from you.
"People might misinterpret if I suddenly leave and sit somewhere else." You answer. Think it might benefit both of you.
"How so?" He asks. You don't understand if he lacks experience assuming he might have drowned himself in studies first and now work or he's just messing with you and having his own fun in it.
"We looked like we were fighting. They might think we were a couple... and we broke up" you answer clearing all his doubts.
"You're kinda clever you know" he says.
"No doubt" you answer.
Your coffees arrive and you both silently sip from your cups. He keeps glancing at you then at the table. Covers his mouth not known to you, he's covering a foolish grin, a blush because he can't stop looking at you and get reminded of how cute he found you in control of anger. How he adores a smart woman who can take a stand for themselves and don't give up.
"You know complete silence can be misinterpreted in a way too" he leans over the table folding his arms.
"Certainly" you agree. Also you are finding it impossible to resist the urge to talk to him.
A part of you is unable to believe you are having coffee even that you're sitting at the same table with a person who studied from one of the top business schools of the world.
"You want a sandwich or something... lemme compensate you for all the money you spent at least obviously I can't return you the time" he speaks looking around for the waitress. Before you can refuse he has already ordered two. You didn't say anything because you could hear your stomach grumbling in hunger. You hadn't eaten a proper dinner last night too.
"You know I kinda understand her dad and you too" your words grab his attention. He looks at you, fluttering his eyes, without any shame not moving them away.
"Hmm" he finds himself at a lack of words.
"It's pretty important to my dad too... That someday my wedding goes well if it happens. But we aren't really on good terms anymore so I don't really know what's gonna happen when the time comes" you tell him. Mustering the courage to finally open up. You've been in your shell for way too long now. It's been five months since you and your girlfriend broke up.
"What happened" he asks trying to not offend. "If you're comfortable to share" he quickly adds.
Your sandwiches arrive right before you start answering, "He wanted me to be an engineer but I had no interest in that area. So he didn't help me tuition for undergrad or anything at all. Mom is a homemaker so she couldn't help me as such. Then when I started my business even then he didn't give any seed money or anything. So far I've been able to manage on my own so I guess I'll arrange my own wedding by myself too. I've got one life, I'm gonna live it out on my own terms. I don't give a fuck anymore" you bite a huge piece off your sandwich not caring what he thinks.
"I'm proud of you" he mutters.
You are surprised to hear that and make no efforts to hide that, "What... what did you just say?" You ask.
"Oh you heard it. You're strong and self made so..." he scratches his nape nervously.
"Thanks" you tell him.
You take another bite of your sandwich.
"Also my parents don't know that I'm bi" You blurt out, kinda on purpose to see if he's gonna back off because of that but it doesn't budges him. He seems to be absolutely fine with it. And there have been many who have left after you state that fact about yourself.
When you both finish eating you walk outside the café together.
"Sorry for wasting your time like that" you apologise. "You seem like you have a serious job"
"No it's not like that... it's all for Si-young and she means a lot to me, even more than my own siblings." He quickly explains.
"Wine tasting tomorrow 5pm" You remind him although he must already have it pinned on his schedule.
"See ya" he leaves after getting in his car. He wanted to ask you to get in the car and drop you wherever it was you needed to go but he had a meeting in an hour and had to prepare for it.
The next day, you meet again. You feel guilty of the excitement of sorts that you hold in your heart to meet him again.
You thought about him all day long the day before, all night and all morning. He was beautiful and kind. Inspiring and caring. You'd never met a guy like that before.
You skip your usual pants and shirt work outfit and instead wear a dress. With a denim jacket on top and boots to walk in.
The wine seller was not a long distance away from your place. You had a home office setup and were saving for an actual office.
You find that Jungkook has already reached the location and was waiting for you. You feel embarrassed not knowing for how long he's been there.
He walks upto you and greets you and you do the same. You walk inside together.
"We have a booking for a wine tasting" you ask the receptionist who points at an old man sitting in a corner. She asks him to take over.
You and Jungkook sit at a table with glasses placed in front of you. The old man uninterested to work asks you to just tell whichever tastes best after showing you samples from what they offer at weddings. You know that the place has the best wines so you don't object towards the behaviour.
"Should we try this one first?" He asks.
You both try the same wines and wait for a few seconds for the taste to settle in.
"No way" You answer. He chuckles and nods.
"OK, trust me this isn't their best" you tell him quickly not letting him doubt your choice of wine seller.
"You've had the best one before?" He asks.
"Yeah someone gifted me once" you get reminded of your ex who brought it for your anniversary. It brings back all the bitter memories from your breakup. It was the longest, strongest relationship of your life yet it ended in such a bad way. You still haven't completely forgotten her.
"Jungkook" you take his name as if he's a friend of yours.
"Yeah everything alright?" He senses the change in your tone and expressions because he hasn't looked anywhere else.
"Can you... can you please taste these and tell me which one you like best? I'm sure you have a great taste in alcohol." You request him. He looks at you and nods.
He picks up a glass and drinks from it. You're sure he must have a hundred questions rushing through his mind but he's not asking them out of politeness.
"Don't wanna kill you with curiosity it's just because my last ex and to be honest one of the best ones brought the best wine from here for our anniversary so I don't wanna taste it and remember it all again. It was pretty terrible... the break up" you purse your lips.
"I'm not curious about those things" he sips another wine and makes a face furrowing his eyebrows. You don't know what to make of it, it looks like he's gonna get angry at you for bringing you to a place which has not a single good one.
"How are these their bestsellers... like what the fuck is even happening here" you look around to call someone and ask them if they actually arranged you the best samples.
"No wait... fuck.." he takes another sip. "Heaven" a moan escapes his mouth before he presses his lips together.
"You like it? I was worried, thought you were gonna get angry at me" you sigh in relief and he laughs, giggles looking at your face.
"Why would I ever get angry at you?" He shrugs his shoulders.
"I boasted about this particular place so I'm bound to be questioned if it doesn't turns out as per the expectations I have planted in someone else's mind. Part of my job is to have a varied taste because different people like different things and I have to cater to their needs accordingly." You speak and he was mesmerized with you.
"You speak so well... damn. You really are passionate about what you do" hee says.
"Yes I am" you confirm.
"I like people with passion for their jobs" he says. You feel butterflies in your tummy. You know how he's indirectly pointing at you.
"So... should I go sort it out with them?" You ask.
"You know... you could drink some other wine. I don't like getting drunk alone" he says.
"Well if you feel like that" you buy a mid range bottle for yourself and ask for a glass. It's not necessarily a place to sit and drink in, yet you two are the only ones there. And you don't like making people feel lonely so you'd better get a little drunk too. And wine makes you feel kinda cosy, drunk but still like yourself.
You can see that he is tipsy. He buys the wine he liked for himself. Once you're both finished you step outside the store.
"How did you get here?" You ask.
"Took a cab" he answers. "Driving wouldn't have been a smart thing to do if I knew I was gonna drink" he adds.
"Don't you have like drivers" you ask curiously. The alcohol starts to have it's effects with the passage of time.
"Not me" he answers your query.
"Hope you aren't getting late for any plans" he says checking if you haven't forgotten about something.
"Why are you curious now?" You smirk.
"Don't want you to blame me later that I got you drunk"
"I drank out of my own will. Just say you're curious to know if I have a partner. I can sense your intentions very well Jeon" you walk away from him but he giggles and steps closer again. You move away again and he pulls you, gently holding your arm.
"Hey I have no such intentions" he denies.
"I'm not so naive to not notice" you keep walking forward with a straight face.
You are certain of what's going on inside his mind. You were sure of your attraction when you first saw him. You've had enough of crying over your ex and remembering the things she did to you. All you need is someone else to do even better things to you.
"By the way... how old are you?" He asks hesitantly.
"Not a minor for sure" you try to annoy him.
"Real age please ma'am" he rolls his eyes.
"Turning 24 in a couple months" you tell him wondering if he's older than you or if he would be uncomfortable that you're younger than him.
"I'm 26, means I can talk informally with  you" he states without you asking.
You don't know why you keep walking further. Even though you know you should just take a cab and go back home yet it's like you're waiting for something. You want to just get even the glimpse of an opportunity. Even though a part of you knows it's not completely right but that adds to the thrill of it all.
"Are you sure you don't have someone waiting for you?" You ask him indirectly.
You are begging inside your heart to know that he's single.
You can't stop the trail of dirty thoughts that follows as you see his skin shining with the layer of sweat that's covering his face. He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, you see him bite his lip before he looks at you with a hint of lust in his eyes.
"Umm no. I have been single for like two years now. My ex left behind a lot of damage too. Took me a lot of therapy and strength to get through it all. We dated four years, I thought she was the one and only and well..." he pauses. You understand what he means and nod.
"I'm sure your little heart will heal" you pat his chest lightly and he smiles. His hand brushes yours as he shifts to walk closer to you even though you barely had an inch between you two.
The image of him biting his lip replays in your mind. You glance at his lips again which he parts making you avert your gaze before he notices.
He's in a leather jacket, white t-shirt, black skinny jeans. Your eyes travel south and get a quick look at the fabric hugging his toned thighs. You wonder if how many abs he's got under the shirt. Fuck, you can't believe your brain is fantasizing about a man you've only met twice when the sun has just started to set.
"You're curious about so many things right now but you aren't asking isn't it?" You smile looking at him. Try to ease the tension because you can sense it building in him too.
"Oh come what do you think I'm even curious about?" He scoffs.
"We're all curious about things Jungkook" you say. You almost trip over a rock but he holds your hand. He keeps holding it just in case you lose balance again. You both are equally tipsy.
"Well what are you curious about?" He asks after a moment.
"Well you know like what happens after death? What will happen to me if the number of people getting married keeps decreasing? What cock tastes like?" The last one makes him cough and stare you.
"You're so drunk" he says.
"Not so much" you tell him.
"Then repeat what you just said" he says
"Why?" You fold your arms over your chest narrowing your eyes at him.
"Why is that a thing you're the most curious about?" He blurts out.
"You're asking like you have some position open for a blow job giver" you joke.
"Like you'd apply for the job" he adds.
You look around people don't give a fuck they're busy minding their own business. You regret saying what you said but yet you let go.
"Have you been to the wedding venue yet?" You ask changing the topic.
"Just checked it out on the internet" he says.
"Wanna go check it out?" You ask.
"I'm kinda tired what about tomorrow?" He offers.
"We've only walked like 500 metres" you chuckle.
"I'm sure it's more than a thousand" he says.
You reach the bus stand from where you can get a bus to your place. He stands beside you.
"You should get a cab. I'll just get on the bus." You tell him. You sense the disappointment in his eyes, but for some reason he doesn't express his desire.
"Okay. If that's what you want" he takes his phone out from his pocket.
You feel foolish waiting for him to turn around and say something. He keeps tapping his foot on the ground, looking at his phone.
The next day arrives after much anticipation. You get late, losing time in doing makeup.
The blood rushes to your cheeks everytime you think about him. You slept last night dreaming about his face, his lips, his delicate features.
You wait on the road for the cab to arrive. Jungkook texts you that he's on his way.
The banquet's in a hotel where the ceremony will take place.
Last night you both had no other options. You don't think each other's homes would've been a great option and there were no motels in sight either. He didn't even bring his car which could've been a compromise you would've made.
Now being in a hotel means you have the opportunity on hand you just have to catch it.
You give him a tour of the place. You have permission to enter the hotel at any time since they all know you are a wedding planner and you're managing an event there in a month.
As soon as he finds you both in a secluded corner he's quick to make the offer.
"You do know what I'm expecting?"
"What? For me to pay for lunch?" You tease him.
"For your curiosity to die" he answers.
"I don't wanna die so young" you tell him.
"Sure can't before you taste cock" you cringe hearing him phrase your words. You know it's just skin and flesh, it can't have it's own taste. It's not like pussy which you've tasted many times but only your ex's. You were drunk, wanted to be suggestive towards him and hence made that up.
"Well I don't have anyone right now whom I'd like to suck off" you tease him more. Kinda like to watch him get desperate.
"Think again" he says. You almost laugh but like how direct he's acting. He has hope evident in his eyes.
"Thought so hard my head hurts" you answer to play a level further than him.
"You're killing me" he says making you walk backwards and hit your back against the wall. Although he keeps his hand behind you so that you don't get hurt.
"No I'm not" you say.
"I'll buy you pretty things" he says. Keeps his hands beside your head.
"I'm weird I don't like pretty things" you joke, enjoy the way he hisses with frustration.
"Then I'll buy you ugly things. Or whatever you like..."
"Excuse me.. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy" you clarify. He sighs. Gets closer.
"I know you want me and you're fighting it. And I want you so bad... you can't even imagine" you hold to him for support as he stands dangerously close to you, staring into your eyes. You pull him a little closer and with the tip of your tongue lick his lower lip. The metal of his lip ring feels cold as your tongue glides over it.
Before he ends up losing all control, he takes your hand and barges into an open room. You raise your eyebrows finding it very questionable what he just did.
"I already booked it" he smirks before he  sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you above his lap.
You sit on him a bit hesitantly knowing he has a growing erection underneath his pants, causing him to act like this.
"Don't act so innocent" he whispers before pulling you closer with his hands on your hips. His hardness presses to your crotch.
You wrap your legs tighter around him.
He tangles his fingers with your hair. You lean closer to him but he doesn't kisses you. You try to get your lips on his but he keeps moving his face, touching his lips and his nose on your cheeks and neck and behind your ears.
"Don't" you whisper.
"Like you didn't" he puts a peck on your lips then pulls back again before you can fully kiss him. You let out a complaining groan and give up on trying to kiss him. He'll do it on his own because you know he wants it too.
"So desperate aren't you..." he presses his lips near yours. "Yet you were giving me such a hard time"
"You were the one denying your very obvious interest in me... and I was kinda nervous because I've never before hooked up with my clients or anyone related" you tell him. He chuckles.
"That's because you help people plan their weddings silly... it would be really problematic if you hook up with someone who's about to get married" you laugh at his words. The vibrations of your laugh travel to him, as both of your chests remain pressed together.
"And if it's not them it's their parents, that's way worse" you both giggle before he tucks your hair behind your ear and finally kisses you.
You hold his head to not let him go and slowly move your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your actions with the same passion you show. He gently grazes his teeth over your lip. You squeeze his nape lightly.
His hands travel down your neck and you look down as he unbuttons your shirt. It's brown to go with your black trousers. Your bra is just a cotton one. You washed your only lace one and it didn't dry in time to wear in the morning.
Jungkook cups your breast as he kisses down your cleavage. You fiddle with his buttons too. You really want to see what's underneath. He's insanely beautiful for a man and you feel jealous of his soft, silky hair. You have to carry out a whole ten step haircare routine through out the week to keep your hair frizz free and prevent dryness.
When he kisses you again, you grind yourself against him a little. He moans into your mouth. It's evident how close to the edge he is.
"You know if you want I can help you with that" you say as you feel wetness seep from your own folds as you stay pressed against his hard cock.
"Oh please... please..." he pulls himself away a little. Palms himself before you move his hand away.
You keep your hand on his chest and make him lie down. You have always liked how bouncy hotel mattresses tend to be. He giggles but quiets down as your hand reaches the button of his jeans.
You grip him from above his clothes and he pushes himself up against your hand. You unbutton his jeans after rubbing him for a few seconds.
Slowly you pull down his boxers too. And adore how pretty and thick he is. Your first man in four years and you're glad to grab a nice one. You feel evil to think of him like this but who cares, you both are just here to fool around, have fun.
You had a boyfriend when you were around nineteen to twenty and since then you only dated women. You did go on a couple dates with guys but none of them worked out.
You pull his jeans down his hips around his thighs. His cock is fully hard, the tip shines with precum. You make him lose his shirt too revealing the tattoo sleeve. You had gotten a glimpse of tattoos sneaking up his sleeve but had no idea that he had a whole hand full of them.
"Pretty tattoos" you remark and he smiles grazing his fingers on his arm.
"Tell me about them after you cum" you say making him chuckle.
"For that you have to start somewhere... I'm dying please" he whines.
You're quick to oblige. Your hands wrap around his dick. You give him a few pumps before licking his length.
You keep moving your hands around the base as you suck the top. He let's out muffled moans as you continue.
Somehow you get lost in the way he moans, knowing it's because of you, that you still can make people feel good. You were skeptical of yourself for a while after your ex labelled sex with you at the end of your relationship as average. You had always had a thrilling sex life with your partners, trying new things, new locations, new positions and techniques yet somehow you grew boring to her.
And here a man lay in front of you, groaning and moaning, definitely not faking it, with the way he was twitching and throbbing inside your mouth.
You keep going without thinking much. You find him responding well and if you keep doing it he'll reach climax and that is what you want for him, to get some release. He's been stressed about his cousin's approaching wedding and you assume his work life must be hectic too.
He grabs your hair in his fist trying his best to not hurt you. His grip loosens as you feel a warm liquid fill your mouth. The taste is a mix of things you can't describe with just one word. Before you swallow the first spurt another gets released out from his tip. Your clit throbs so bad, your heart beats so fast, you feel so wet, you just want to pull your pants down and make yourself cum if nobody's gonna do it for you. You feel an ache in your pussy and an urgent need to relieve yourself from it.
Jungkook lies with his head buried in the pillows. When he looks at you there's a shine to his face, his eyes. He has no care for how he came so much that too in your mouth.
"Either you make me cum right now or I'm making myself" you say pushing your trousers down as you lie beside him. You throw your shirt away too.
"Alright do it then..." he says. "Let's see how hard you can make yourself cum" his words sends another chill down your spine.
"Well then" you sit comfortably on the bed. Then part your legs. He watches carefully. You slowly push your panties to the side. Touch your clit and moan as the touch feels heavenly.
But the way that your pussy is all wet and messy and pretty Jungkook can't resist the temptation.
He sits beside you and slowly trails his hand up your thigh. You continue to rub your clit not caring what he thinks. Why would you do it's not like he means anything to you.
He doesn't removes your finger instead pushes his into your hole. "Fuck" you moan as he tries to find the sweet spot.
You increase your pace of stroking your clit.
With his free hand, he pushes the fabric of your bra down to expose your breasts just enough to get access to your nipples. He circles his thumb around the hardened buds.
As his finger continues to circle on your g-spot, he wraps his mouth around your nipple. His tongue circles around. He sucks trying to take in more of your boob into his mouth. You find it hard to maintain your rhythm of clit rubbing.
Yet as you find yourself too close to the climax, you're motivated to keep going. You just know it's going to be very hard. And with your moans and expressions, he finds his motivation too. He presses the tip of his finger against your walls.
You feel an unbearable pressure build inside you. Desperately trying to get relief. He's amazed how fast your hand starts moving. His eyes don't move away from your cunt neither does his finger pressing on your g-spot.
He takes your tit inside his mouth again. Your moans intensify as it finally snaps. Your thighs shake, you see the stars, think you've died for a second. It travels from your head to toe. You remove your hand but he doesn't.
Through the overstimulation he brings to you another unbearable pressure which turns into a wave of pleasure as you lose all control and squirt, shaking uncontrollably. Jungkook pulls his hand away and watches as you rub yourself again and spray more of the liquid soaking the sheets. You keep rubbing yourself and an orgasm combines with it. The control of your body has gone from you to your orgasm.
Jungkook moans watching you as his hand reaches his own cock thats hard again. He starts to pump himself as you catch your breath, your body still shakes.
"You surely enjoyed that" he says.
"Very much" you answer.
"Can we fuck now?" He asks. It's inevitable. You didn't think you'd come this hard in front of him. You look at his cock hard and ready to fuck you senseless.
Your lingering gaze tells him enough. He takes position above you. And before you know his tip is massaging your insides as he thrusts himself again and again.
Your phone starts suddenly ringing and with the surprise he sits up still holding his shaft. You fumble with the objects inside your handbag and take your phone out.
It was the hotel manager telling you they've arranged a special meal for you and your guest. Jungkook rubs himself against your clit and you almost moan yet he doesn't stops instead smirks.
As soon as you cut the call, he starts to fuck you again this time relentlessly. You both struggle to hold for long and come within minutes. He pulls out at the right moment, makes a mess all over your tummy and you clench around nothing as a short quick orgasm washes over you.
It's hard to speak after what you two did. You decided to take turns to shower. Thankfully you had an emergency pair of panties in your handbag which remains there all the time in case you unexpectedly start your period.
It's a rooftop setting where your food was. You had developed an appetite after the things you did that had tired you out immensely. You hadn't expected this at all, you were firm before entering the room that you'll just make out with him but so is life and it's happenings, one thing leads to another.
You sit across the table from Jungkook.
"It got a little crazy I'm sorry. I just lost..." he interrupts you and you wait for him to speak, "It was so fucking good... don't you dare try and deny that" he gives you a serious look and you chuckle.
"It'd been a while since I had fun like that. Sometimes one needs that right?" He nods, mouth stuffed with food. Would've bought you food regardless the hotel offered it or not.
"Bet you can say Si-young did a good job hiring me?" You joke.
He bites his lip before he laughs lowly.
"We're done with bookings now. I talked over a few things with the hotel. Guess I'm gonna see you for the final checks now" you speak in a low tone.
When you think about it you're gonna miss him even though it isn't a long time that you two spent together. There's just something about him that does something to your heart which you don't understand.
"Actually I have to go on a trip abroad and I don't know how long it's gonna take to wrap up the work although I'll be here for the wedding anyhow" he tells you. His voice is low. You know how much he wants to look after preparations firsthand.
"Hey don't worry. I hope you have some sort of trust on me now. I'll work my ass off to make sure your sister has the perfect wedding. And I'll give you updates every fifteen minutes." You say reach his hand that rests on the table.
"I'm counting on you" he says tightly holding your hand.
"You can" you answer.
Over the next few weeks you try to make contact with him but the time difference makes it impossible for you to have a conversation with him in real time. Mostly you send him updates regarding the wedding which is just work for you.
On a lucky day, you catch him online at an ungodly hour. You find out he's drunk. He keeps mentioning the sex you both had. Explains in detail, the things he liked which is almost everything about it. You're surprised he remembers it in such detail.
He sends you a pic of his erect penis says he's thinking about how you came and he hopes you look at it and make yourself come even harder. Everytime you are playing with yourself, you do remember the way his fingers worked and try to replicate it. The orgasms are strong that way and with his image in your mind even more.
You have no idea how you're gonna get him out of your mind. Although it brings you some peace that you're in his mind too.
He was in another country, he could be fucking anyone. It's not like he has to try too hard to get some. Yet he was thinking about you while jerking off. He liked the parts which others found a mess and a pain in the ass.
It was the nicest feeling to have someone accept you, appreciate you, like the way your body is and the way you are.
Much to your disappointment, he could only arrive on the day of the wedding. Hours before the ceremony starts. You had completely forgotten about his arrival, drowned in work as you were.
You were checking the lighting and flowers all around the place when two hands touched your shoulders. You turn around freaked out. Although it could be a friend from the staff trying to tell you to relax.
When you look at him you can't belive that he made it. He hugs you and presses a kiss on your forehead.
"Thank you so much for looking after everything so well" he thanks you but you shake your head.
"I'm getting paid" you say, then whisper "a big sum" you add. Although money hadn't been the only motivation for you to work hard on this project.
"Look at you" he fixes your hair, "What has become of you? You work hard more than you need to" he lightly pats your cheek before he guides you to a room at the back.
"Now show me the dress you're wearing.  Will wank in advance so I don't get too horny if you're gonna look too hot" he says.
"What... there's no dress I'll just be wearing what I'm already wearing" you glance at yourself in the mirror, you put on a shirt with embellishments to look not too plain. You don't get ready for every wedding that you plan.
"Good I bought you one. I just saw this while walking on the street and thought how good this'll look on you" he opens his bag and takes a packet out. He rips it open and gives you the dress.
"And you're still interested in me? The time was enough to fall in love with someone new" you say as if he had ever been in love with you.
"I'm not so easy" he says.
"Tell someone else" you respond with a smug look on your face. He chuckles.
"Now are you gonna change or..." he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt.
You think of taking over for a moment but then let him do it.
You help him pull the shirt down your arms leaving you in your bra. His hand reaches your back and he unhooks your bra.
"Hey..." you hold his hand to stop him.
"What? The dress is padded" you hadn't really noticed even when he was showing you the dress you were just busy looking at him.
Your bra slips off and his hand wraps around your tits. He squeezes them then sucks your nipples one by one, covers your whole chest with small kisses. You feel the wetness growing, you can't get too distracted. You have to go out or everything will fall apart.
His hand goes down your navel and rests between your thighs. Your breath hitches as he presses his fingers against your pussy.
"Oops made you wet. Don't worry will gladly help you with it..." he smirks and you remain numb as he slips his hand inside your panties.
The tip of his middle finger presses against your clit. You whimper.
"I don't have time" you complain.
"Alright" he starts to rub you. Circles his finger around your clit.
You were so wet, so aroused. You started to grind yourself on his hand and suddenly came, your juices gushing, clit throbbing against his finger, thighs shaking, you hold him for support.
"Told ya" he chuckles then pulls his hand away and hands you the dress to wear.
You like the dress, it was complimenting his outfit when you two stand together.
He stands behind you and holds your hand bringing it to his throbbing hardness. You rub your fingers on him a little bit then turn towards him.
"I need to be out there to make sure you can ensure the perfect wedding for your cousin." You touch his cheeks.
"Wait for me here after the reception is over. I'll get here and then I'll make you make up for it" you nod giggling before you leave.
When you left the room, you had no idea this was the last time you were ever going to talk to him.
This was the last time you were ever going to see him.
You did come to the room and wait like he asked but instead of him a girl came.
Said she was just made his fiancé and was supposed to wait for him there like the bride had told her to.
You knew who the girl was. You knew where she sat. She was from a business family too.
In the end, like always you got proved wrong. Money emerged victorious over human emotions or feelings.
You might plan a thousand weddings after that but he will always remain a distinct memory. A mysterious man who won your heart in a way you could never describe.
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mostmouse · 1 year
Text
The Swordsmith with a Cute Name
Hotaru Haganezuka has gone missing in the swordsmith village, surely his wife must know where he is, right? The thing is, he sort of only visits at night.
(Hotaru Haganezuka x f!reader, explicit, 5,800 words, slight yandere themes) as always - cross posted to my AO3 :)
Tanjiro marveled at the entrance of the Swordsmith Village, the architecture striking him. Growing up in the mountains, he had never really been exposed to such buildings, and he didn’t want to count his time in the entertainment district. Waving to the people milling about on his way to the chief’s residence, he sniffed the air, trying to see if he could scent his own swordsmith. While he could catch a faint smell, he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.
Moving into the chief’s home, he listened to the older man speak of Mr. Haganezuka, balking as he openly threatened the man. Tecchin sighed, “We’re searching high and low for him, and I’m sure his wife has met with him in these last few months, but I can’t catch her with him!” He pouted, “I don’t have it in me to ask her to set a trap though, it’s already a miracle that Hotaru even managed to find a woman who would tolerate him.”
Tanjiro gasped before lighting up, “Mr. Haganezuka is married?! That’s wonderful!” Tecchin sighed delightedly, holding his cheek in his hands.
“Isn’t it just so? I raised him, so I know how difficult it can be. No matter what that woman has ever done, she’s a pure hearted angel in my books. I wish she’d join me in trying to detain Hotaru.”
Tanjiro laughed, slightly awkward. “I’m sure she’s making sure he’s safe and well cared for while he’s out.” The two continued to gossip before one of the other men in the room reminded their chief of his other commitments. “I’ll head out to acquaint myself with the village.” Bowing low, he smiled, “I’ll keep an eye out for Mr. Haganezuka. If I run into Mrs. Haganezuka, is it alright if I associate with her?”
Tecchin brightened up, sitting taller, “Yes! See if you can get her to open up about Hotaru’s whereabouts. Perhaps she’ll tell a young man as handsome as you. I’m sure Hotaru won’t mind, but he’s always been a bit possessive over her.”
Tanjiro’s smile was strained. “Ah, I hope so, too.” Gathering Nezuko’s box, Tanjiro got up to leave, bowing once more at the gentlemen before taking his leave. The hot springs were an overwhelming scent, but if he focused hard, he could almost track his swordsmith’s scent. Patting the box, he whispered to his sister, “Let’s see if we can find Mr. Haganezuka’s wife, I’m really curious what she’s like!”
Hearing Nezuko’s hum of affirmation, he trotted along the small village’s dirt streets. Eyes scanning everyone around him, he huffed slightly. “Everyone’s wearing those clown masks… How am I supposed to- ah!” Perking up, he caught a whiff of Mr. Haganezuka, jogging forward until he found someone in a pretty mask carrying leather goods.
“Ah! Excuse me, are you Mrs. Haganezuka?” Hearing your name, you turned to face him, shoulders straightening as you saw this boy had no mask. He must have been a visitor, how did he know your name? You weren’t a swordsmith, instead you crafted leather accessories for the swords your husband made.
“I am, and you are?” Tanjiro blushed as he forgot his manners, bowing deeply, he introduced himself. However, you interrupted him before he could mention his relationship with Mr. Haganezuka. “Oh! Tanjiro! You’re a client of Hotaru’s, aren’t you?”
The young man before you smiled brightly, and you felt your chest swell with sudden affection. He was too cute! “I am! I was wondering… Have you seen him? The chief mentioned that he’s been missing the last few months, so I can’t help but be worried.”
You stiffened, his earnest expression instead now twisting your heart. You stuttered over your words for a moment before plastering a wide smile on your face - not that he could see it. “Oh gosh, no! Sorry! I wish I could help, I really do! But, well, I don’t actually know where he is at the moment, I’m sorry!”
Waving your hand apologetically, you laughed airly. Tanjiro smiled softly, tilting his head. It didn’t take someone with a discerning nose like him to know you were lying. Well, you hadn’t actually lied, you probably really didn’t know where he was, but you certainly have seen him. Tanjiro breathed a sigh, smile not leaving his lips. “If you see him, could you let him know I’m here? I’d like to apologize for chipping my sword.”
Your hand dropped, reaching into the large bag at your hip. “Of course! I’ll let him know!” You chirped in realization, digging for whatever you were looking for with vigor, “If I see him! You know, because, yeah I-I don’t know where he is!” Laughing nervously, you held out a small item to him. “Silly me! Here’s take this, a gift for Hotaru for not being here!”
Tanjiro accepted the small leather sheath, gasping as he pulled out a knife. “Wow!” Eyes widening further, he shouted in surprise as the blade turned black. “It's a nichirin dagger!”
You brightened, clapping your hands. “I’ve been apprenticing under Hotaru for a few years, but unfortunately this is the only sturdy thing I can make right now. I’m actually a leather worker by trade! I craft hilts and sheaths!”
Tanjiro’s eyes lit up in stars, bowing once more. “That’s amazing! I’ll treasure this! I’ll only use it in emergencies!” You hummed happily, holding your cheeks. Tanjiro placed the dagger in his pocket, bowing for the last time. “Thank you so much, if you don’t mind me asking… Where’s the entrance to the hot springs?”
You laughed, reaching out and petting the top of his head fondly. “I don’t mind at all! Here, let me lead you.” You ignored his blush and how he tried to object, taking his hand and leading him away. “Please, it would be my honor! Maybe later you could introduce me to your little sister!” You eyed the box curiously, “I heard she’s downright adorable, I just have to meet her! And don’t worry, the canopy above the main hot springs is full coverage. Even though it's sunset, no light will get in, so she’ll be safe to soak, too!”
Tanjiro’s heart squeezed in his chest, you were much too kind. He couldn’t believe you were the wife of the man who sent him those threatening ink stained letters. Once the two of you approached the steps, the both of you looked up as the love hashira barreled down towards you, shouting.
You laughed delightedly, shouting your greetings as Tanjiro panicked, rushing up to close her kimono. Smiling as Tanjiro fussed over Mitsuri, you waved and walked away, giggling behind your mask. With a renewed pep in your step, you hummed as you made your way to your shared home on the outskirts of the village, nestled in the woods.
Closing the sliding door behind you, you slipped your shoes off, setting down your bag and stretching tall, groaning loudly. Stepping up onto the clean floors, you made your way to the kitchen. Paying no mind to your surroundings, you didn’t notice as your large husband crept up behind you.
Shouting, you felt strong arms wind around you, pulling you against a sturdy built chest. “H-Hotaru!” His mask clacked against yours as pressed himself to the back of your body, arms tightening.
“I saw you talking with Kamado, what did he have to say?” His voice was gruff, you could hear the agitation in it as you whimpered. His large hand came up to cup your mask, pulling it away from your face and setting it down. He was always so gentle with his works of art, but he didn’t bother the same treatment with you, especially when he saw you talking with other men.
“Hotaru, he’s just a boy, what are you so worked up ab- ah!” He hauled you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. “Hotaru! Let me make us dinner, I haven’t seen you in a couple days!” You slapped his back before realization dawned on you, “W-Were you watching us? Have you been watching me on the days I don’t see you?”
He tossed you to the bed, quickly climbing over you and straddling your legs, hands holding your wrists on his thick thighs. “Hotaru! Stop!” You tried to wiggle, knowing it was futile, especially when he was focused on a specific topic or task.
“What did he say to you?” He leaned forward, bandana and mask keeping his expression from you. Squeezing you with his thighs, he huffed, “I won’t ask again.”
You growled, fed up with the cold welcome from the man you loved, “You’re being jealous! I don’t get a ‘hi’ or a kiss, or a ‘good evening honey, how are-’ ahh!” He tugged your wrists up, body quickly following as you were brought to his chest, his arms winding around you in a tight hug.
You pouted, not wanting to talk about it but knowing you wouldn’t get anything from him if you didn’t - the man was ridiculously stubborn and could hold out much longer than you. He always had his swords to go to when he wasn’t getting his way. “Nothing! He didn’t say anything, just that he was sorry for chipping his sword. Tecchin spoke with him earlier so he knew you were missing.”
You whined a bit, going slack in his arms, “I think he knew I was lying he asked me about you… But he didn’t press it. I gave him that dagger I’d been working on. It turned black just like his blade though, I’m sorry.”
Your husband’s grip relaxed a bit, though he didn’t move from where he was perched on your lap, still keeping you contained. His burly hands came back around and held your cheeks as he sighed heavily. “It’s not your fault. All the blades I’ve made have turned black as well.” Groaning loudly, he set his jaw on the top of your head.
Cautiously, you brought your arms up, slipping his mask off before tugging his bandana away from his head. His hair spilled from where it was tied up in the fabric, cascading over his shoulders in a flowing wave.
Sighing as you tended to him, you spoke up in a small comforting voice. “Hotaru… Do you wanna get up for me and we can make some dinner?” He scoffed, gritting his teeth, his jaw tense where it rested above the crown of your head. Sighing, you pet his thighs. “You'll be less grumpy once you eat, sweetness.”
Pushing your shoulders back, he fixed you with a hard glare. “You know how I feel when you speak with other people.” He gripped your cheeks with both hands, “You’re mine. You know that. Why do I have to keep reminding you?” His perfect lips turned to a sneer, and you recalled how he was only okay with you speaking to a handful of people in the village.
You pouted, your lips squished together and preventing you from speaking. Growling you tried to shake your head to escape his grip, however that had him holding onto you tighter. “You’re mine.”
His voice was as rough as his lips as he crashed his against yours. Whimpering at the force, feeling the impact on your teeth, you tried to wiggle away from him. His hands came up behind you, twisting in your hair and holding you in place. His tongue pushed past your lips, teeth clacking as he ravaged your mouth.
You whimpered, hands pulling his hair as you tried to break free. Even though you were sure it wasn’t because of you, he pulled away, moving only the smallest bit away from your mouth. His burly body blocked everything else from your line of vision, the only thing you could see being him. His eyes bore into yours, gaze intense, and you knew you wouldn’t get away from him unscathed.
You whimpered, his hands pressing you down onto your back as he slipped off you. “Don’t move.” You gave a sharp shout as he tore your kimono open and off of you, easily slipping off your undergarments with deft fingers.
Hotaru’s rough hands pawed over your freshly displayed body, nails scratching you slightly. You whimpered, body jolting with each touch as he moved downwards onto his knees. You tentatively pet his hair, gasping as he grabbed your palms and pressed them to the side of the bed, flat. “What did I just say?”
He didn’t move, staying still as his eyes stared up at you from between your legs. Your mouth was dry as you looked up towards the ceiling. “D-Don’t move.” His grip tightened as he bit your thigh, ignoring as you cried out.
“And what did you do?” Hands leaving yours, he pushed your thighs wide open, admiring your cunt. You whimpered above him, shouting as he bit your other thigh.
“Moved! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘Taru, please!” Huffing at your words, he abandoned your hands and instead kept to holding your thighs. At his silence, you shuddered as his breath puffed over your slit. Now that he seemed wholly uninterested in what you were doing or saying, you knew the night was only beginning, his impressive and irritating focus narrowing in on pleasuring you until he had his fill.
Gasping, your hips jerked as his tongue slid up your slit, slow and wet. “Hotaru…” You grabbed at his hair, knowing he was so focused he wouldn’t be paying you anymore attention outside of eating you out.
His hands gripped the fat of your thighs, tongue pushing past your slit and dipping inside your cunt. Your back arched at the feeling, basking in the pleasure for as long as you could. His mouth went to work as his hands groped you, moving up your body and squeezing anywhere he could reach.
Peering above your chest and tummy, you moaned lowly at the sight of him between your legs. His eyes were half lidded, a blush on his cheeks, and showing no indication of looking up at you, entirely enraptured in your sweet cunt. You tossed an arm over your eyes, the other resting in his hair as you wrapped your thighs around his head.
Sighing, you let him lick you, drooling over your already wet cunt. “Hotaru~” You felt him press his face closer against you, tongue shoved deep inside you. Arching your back, you pulled his hair, the man staying silent as he moved upwards to suck your clit.
“Ahh!” You shuddered at the feeling, moaning and crying out as his hands shifted to your hips. Gripping you tightly, you moaned at the rough treatment. He lifted you up higher, hands moving to cup your ass while his eyes slid shut. He pawed at your skin, squishing it in his palms as he sucked your clit tight into his hot wet mouth.
Writhing on the bed, you pulled his hair, letting your legs fall open, thighs resting on his broad shoulders. “Ahh~ So good~” You pet his hair as he slipped his tongue back into your cunt, licking you hotly. You rocked your hips in his grip, grateful he wasn’t holding you down this time.
Moving his head, you felt his tongue slip deeper inside, his own rough moans muffled by your plush skin. You whimpered loudly, head falling back as you felt him move one of his hands from your ass. You swallowed tightly, anticipation rattling your lungs as you felt him slowly curve it around your thighs to settle between your legs, just under his mouth.
You whined as one rough finger slipped inside you, the size of his digits easily outmatching your own. “Please, Hotaru~” He delicately pet inside of you, reacquainting himself with your body. You rolled your hips against his face, whining once more as he ignored you, steadying his hand and stroking you with one digit.
His tongue soon left you, moving up to your clit as he sucked once more, feeling your swollen bundle against his tongue, his finger soft inside you. You cried out, bucking your hips as you pulled his hair, his mouth not stopping as he sighed against you, eyes closed and tongue licking you rapidly.
“H-Hotaru! Ahh- fuck! Please!” You arched your back, dragging him so close to you that his nose was pressed against your mound. “‘M gonna cum! Haah~ Ah!” Your breath stuttered from your lungs, writhing against the soft comforter as your husband stayed on his knees, unbothered by your reactions.
You gasped for air as he continued, thighs quaking and sporadically squeezing his head before falling back open. He kept his hand firmly cupping your ass while the other slipped another finger inside your tightening cunt.
Sighing hotly, your hands loosened in his mane, petting flyaways from his sweaty forehead, laughing breathlessly as his eyes were still closed. “Hotaru… It’s not fair when I can’t l-look at your handsome face…” Your words trailed off, soft sharp moans falling past your lips as he built his speed back up.
Whimpering, you tried to push him away, knowing full well you couldn’t. “W-Wait, Hotaru, please!” He moaned gruffly against you, and you were sure his cock was aching and hard in his pants. “Please, Hotaru, I want you inside me! I know yo-ahh! K-Know you want it, too-” You covered your mouth with your hand, crying out as he curled his fingers inside you.
You had no idea to what end he would stop, it wasn’t uncommon for him to become so hyper fixated and focused on making love to you, whether that be with his mouth or cock. You knew he wouldn’t stop until he was done, and it didn’t matter if you were conscious when that time came. After much practice together, your beloved husband blossomed into quite the lover, but as with his sword making passion, he tended to allow himself to slip into a specific sort of headspace.
You writhed, legs kicking behind his head as you pulled your hands back up to yourself. Holding and fondling your chest, you cried out, his hand moving faster. “‘Taru! Fuck!” Panting hard, you felt him let go of your clit, catching his breath as his fingers tapped at your gspot. You arched again, body bending and back popping at the stretch.
He leaned back, admiring your reactions and how you squeezed and pulled at your breasts. Licking his lips, he watched your cunt flutter around his fingers, pulling back before thrusting them into you, the rough pace making your upper body curl. Your hands moved to fist the blanket instead, gasping and panting for air as your climax approached.
Growling, he dragged his hand from where it was squeezing your ass, pushing one of your thighs off his shoulder so he could nibble and suck marks into your plush skin. Crying out, he felt you tighten on his fingers, but it wasn’t enough to stop his fast pace. Moaning as he bit down, his hazy eyes watched as you arched high, hands blindly seeking and finding his long, wild hair.
“Ah-!” He winced as you pulled hard, eyes never leaving your face as you finished hard a second time. Leaving your bitten thigh, he pulled his hand back, spreading your legs so wide the brief thought of you splitting apart echoed in your blissfully empty head.
Moaning loudly and wantonly, you felt him replace his digits with his tongue, pushing past your plump cunt to lick inside you. His nails bit into your skin as you moved to twist his hair around your fists. “Hotaru!” You babbled incoherently, moaning as his wet fingers curled up to rub your clit fast and hard. “Ahh!” You curled forward screeching as he overstimulated you.
You could handle it when he cooled down a bit, giving you a slight break between orgasms, but you knew if he kept it up, you’d be passing out sooner rather than later. You were always a little sleepy after one climax, him getting you off repeatedly back to back was just mean.
Thighs quivering, he basked in your noises, surrounding himself with your perfect body, the taste of your cum making him strain in his now painfully too tight pants. Breaking away from your cunt, he panted heavily, fingers pinching your clit as he nibbled your plump slit. Crying out above him, he could barely make out how your upper body writhed for him.
Catching his breath, he dove back in, mouthing over your throbbing clit and three digits pounding your sweet spot. You screamed aloud, trying to scoot away from him, pushing him away and kicking your legs. “No! Stop! ‘Taru!” He had you on the brink, he could feel how tight you were wrapped around his fingers, knew you were at your limit.
It had been days since he’d last seen you, since he’d last touched you. He knew you were busy with your own jobs as well, coming home to an empty bed with no energy to touch yourself. He had to make up for lost times. It was a mantra in his head, to make sure you felt amazing before he even had a chance to feel good himself.
Moaning around your clit as it was snug inside his drooling mouth, his eyes flicked up to you. You laid there in bed, palms over your face as you gasped and shouted. As he laved his tongue over you, teeth pressing against your burning skin, he rubbed his calloused fingertips over your gspot, switching between pressing and rubbing hard to pounding them with quick movements of his wrist.
Finally, your head fell back, screaming as your voice cracked, finishing hard and bucking your hips against his jaw. He quickly abandoned your clit as he felt hot cum flood down his digits and into his palm. You cried out weakly as he voraciously ate you out, tongue pressing inside your cunt and fucking you.
Gasping and whimpering, your hips jolted as he licked up all your cum, dragging his tongue up your slit before flicking your swollen clit. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, his mouth moved away from you, letting your legs rest against the end of the western style bed. He sat back on his heels, licking his hand clean as he watched you closely.
Muscles rippling beneath his clothes, he hovered above you, kneeling between your legs as his intense gaze watched your face. Blinking slowly, your dazed bleary gaze found his face, muddled from your airy state of mind. Breathing heavily, you managed a small weak, “‘Taru?”
Sighing above you, he kissed your forehead. Letting your eyes close, you felt him slip off the bed and pull you up into his arms. Maneuvering with you in his grip, he turned down the sheets, sliding you inside them. You hummed, comfortable amongst the soft sheet and plush pillows. Feeling yourself drift off, you registered faintly of your husband crawling in with you.
You tried to call out to him, but your throat was tired and dry. Cracking your eyes open, you moved your lips, about to call out to him before he got comfortable, but instead cried out loudly as you felt his thick cock fill you in one thrust. “Hotaru!”
You heard him groan above you, the tight fit rattling his spine. You cried out as he lifted your legs, hips quickly pistoning inside of you. Sobbing incoherently, you clawed at his chest as he hovered above you. “I- Stop!” His cock split you open, the messy sounds echoing around you as your husky voice called out to him.
Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on his face, whimpering as his eyes bore into you, sweat dripping from his tense visage down onto you. He was quiet the entire time, not speaking as he fucked you roughly. Groaning and panting, he was otherwise silent as he focused entirely on your expression.
Writhing beneath him, you gripped his wrists as he held your hips still, his own crashing into yours roughly. “I can’t! S’too much!” You tossed your head to the side, brows pinched as he filled you up just to pull nearly out, filling you once more.
Your husband grunted above you, shuddering at your words. With a sharp gasp, his thrusts faltered, moans stifled as he rubbed your overstimulated and sore clit. You slapped his chest, tears at the corners of your eyes, “It hurts! Stop it, stop!”
However, Hotaru paid you no mind, panting as his climax washed over him, hips bucking without rhythm as you felt him pump his cum inside you. Dragging your nails down his chest once more and shaking your head, tears slipping down into your hairline. “No more! Please, ‘Taru!”
His gaze was focused as he met your own, but you whimpered, body quaking as you didn’t see any recognition in his intense stare. Instead, his eyes drifted down your body, large palm pressing into your belly. You choked out a moan as he moved his hips subtly, cock stroking your gspot as he pressed down harder.
You could see the edges of your vision turn fuzzy as he began to pump his hips again, the pace just as face and brutal. Gasping, you coughed roughly, hands pulling at his weakly, whimpering and crying out. As he pounded you, feeling your breasts bounce, your sudden climax had you shrieking before your field of vision went cloudy and you passed out.
Hotaru watched you from his position above you, admiring your blissed out expression as he made love to you. Licking his lips, he moaned as you finished around him, cunt once again tightening like a vice, squeezing him tighter than you had all night. Moaning loud and sharp, he winced while his hips continued their pace.
Panting heavily, his drool dripped down to your chest, your eyes closed and face no longer pinched. Gritting his teeth, he bowed his head forward, hips jerking roughly. After his intense orgasm before, he couldn’t deny that the overstimulation was beginning to hurt him as well. Grabbing your legs, he pressed them to his chest. Anchoring his heels in the soft bed, he pressed you tighter up against yourself.
Now that you were unconscious, it was easier to fold your body how he wanted to. Gritting his teeth, he felt himself reach deeper inside of you. “Ahh! Fuck!” Eyes closing, his face tensed as his body slowly began to as well. Panting desperately for air, he felt himself shudder as he finished once more, filling you with more hot cum.
Hands fell from your legs to either side of your head, sweat and drool dripping from him down to you as you remained blissfully unaware of how his cock throbbed and pulsed inside your hot cunt. His body quaked with aftershocks and pumped a bit more cum deep inside you.
Fisting his hands into the pillow on either side of your face, he groaned. His energy was spent, having already been exhausted from his training out in the forest surrounding the village. He wanted to keep going, not quite satisfied with his work, but having to admit he was as spent as you were.
With his last coherent train of thought, he moved your legs and slid out from between them. Collapsing next to you, he pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. Using his legs, he dragged the blankets up closer, tossing off the top comforter, and draping the two of you in the soft thin sheet.
Catching his breath, he littered your shoulders with kisses and bites, not caring if they would be visible above your kimono in the morning. Everyone in the village knew you belonged to him and him alone, so it wouldn’t matter if you were marked up. Sighing tiredly, his hands drifted over your body, scratching you with his nails before cupping your breasts.
Feeling sleep overtake him, he squeezed you before allowing himself to pass out.
All too soon, however, his eyes were cracking open once more, groaning as the sun shone through the window. You were still sleeping soundly next to him, face buried in the pillows and back rising with each deep breath.
Stretching tall, Hotaru felt his joints pop and crack. He didn’t like to stay too long after sunrise, preferring to train when the morning was still cool. Sitting up, he winced at the dull ache in his hips. He rolled his shoulders, swinging his thick legs over the side of the bed, moving to get up before your smaller hand grabbed his wrist.
Humming in thought, he turned, looking for your eyes under your mess of hair as it was splayed out on the pillow. “‘Taru…” Your grip was weak considering you were barely awake, and it would have been child’s play to break away from you. However, your enormous husband smiled softly, turning and crawling back into bed to cuddle you into his strong arms.
You hummed happily, eyes closing once more as you settled in his grip. His voice was husky as he whispered in your ear, delighting in how you shuddered, “Good morning. How are you feeling?” You laughed softly, the sound barely passing your lips.
“Sore. Wonder why that is? Don’t think I’ll-” Yawning widely, you rolled your shoulders, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk very well this morning.” You blinked blearily at him, a soft smile on your tired face.
He couldn’t help but lick his lips, grinning smugly. “You’re lucky I let you leave the house at all.” His hand drifted down, grabbing your ass roughly, smirking as you moaned and hid your face in his chest. “You’re mine. Nobody should ever get to see you again. The only forge you have any business being in is mine.”
You laughed softly, kissing his chest where you could reach him, “You’re not even in your own forge nowadays, Hotaru. I get lonely without having you.” He scoffed at your words, grumbling under his breath.
You squealed as he squeezed you tight. “Don’t care. Don’t let me see you getting too friendly with anyone else while I’m gone, understand me?” His gaze was on you now, pulling you back from his chest.
You sighed lovingly as you took in his face with the morning sunlight. “You’re so handsome, I love you.” He crinkled his nose, watching as his words went in one side and out the other. Sighing at your helpless nature, he pulled you into his lap before sitting up.
“We can make it to the hot springs and back before it's time to make a proper breakfast.” You whined in his grip as he stood up, placing you in a nearby chair as he found some clothes for the both of you. Tying you up in a loose kimono, he grabbed another larger one for himself, tying it closed and moving to lift you up once more.
You giggled happily in his arms, still veiled in a thin shroud of sleep. “You wore me out last night… I’m not sure I remember half of it.” Hotaru grunted, grabbing his mask before walking to the entryway and grabbing yours as well.
Slipping on his sandals, he hefted you up higher in his arms, “You passed out.” You were speechless for a moment, staring at him from under your sunny mask, before laughing quietly to yourself.
“You’re horrible! Tecchin was right, you’re a handful!” Hotaru snorted under his mask, holding you closer to his chest. You listened to his heartbeat as well as his deep voice as he spoke up once more.
“Please, you’re just as much of a handful. We’re a perfect match for each other, no one else could handle us.” You laughed again, waking up as the sun filtered through the trees as he carried you to the hot springs.
Leaning up, you tapped his cheek with your mask then his ear over his bandana in a makeshift kiss. “You’re right… I’d be a mess without you, you know.” Resting your cheek on his chest once more, the two of you basked in the morning sunlight together.
Wiggling your nose, you looked away as you got closer to the hot springs. “Gross.” You felt your husband’s shoulders shake slightly, silent laughter at your childish tone. “Oh well, at least I get to soak with you!”
You nuzzled his neck, rubbing his chest as he crested the steps to show a large pool of steaming water. You wiggled in his grasp, hearing his laugh softly as he put you down before scrambling to pick you back up as your legs gave out. You slapped his chest as his arms wound around your waist, pulling you snug and tight against him once more.
“You did this! This is your fault!” You slipped your mask up to rest atop your head, smiling fondly at your beloved. Once yours was secured, you moved to tug his off along with his bandana.
Hotaru pouted at you before smiling softly and kissing you gently. Sitting you on the edge of the spring, he easily stripped you of your kimono before stripping himself down as well. Wading into the spring, he bundled you back into his arms and sat the two of you against the inner wall.
Sighing contentedly, you apologetically pet the red scratches on his chest. “Sorry…” You smiled up at him softly before kissing them, noticing how some had dried blood on them. “I should trim my nails down a little, I think…”
He grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles before relaxing back, stretching his legs out. “Don’t worry about it, I was the one who pushed you last night.” You smiled, relaxing against him, mischievous eyes looking up at him.
“And yet you’re not apologizing.” Your husband scoffed, not bothering to look down at you, opting to squeeze you tightly instead before loosening his grip just as quick.
“Because I’m not sorry. You’re my wife, I’ll take you however I please whenever I want.” You balked at his steady words, his tone final.
“Hotaru Haganezuka! You’re bad!” You bit his chest before blowing a loud raspberry against him. He laughed loudly, moving so that he could kiss your forehead. You slapped him lightly, shaking your head but basking in his laughter. “What on earth am I going to do with you?”
He hummed, relaxing back against the spring’s wall again. “Stay with me. Forever.” His suddenly sincere tone had your chest welling up in affection and adoration. Sighing softly, you rested back against him, smiling.
“Of course. Always.” Hotaru pet your hair, relaxing in the early morning rays in the deserted hot spring with you in his arms. Thoughts of work began creeping into his head, but he pushed them off, wanting to spend just a little more time with you in sweet intimacy.
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drconstellation · 8 months
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The Ineffable Ducks
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What's with all the ducks in Good Omens that Crowley seems to be inordinately fond of? Turns out, they do have a narrative purpose, they're not just in there as a running joke about Crowley's fondness for the animals of Earth.
They appear in both S1 and S2, and get mentioned in several seemingly random places. Like, really random. There are quite a few in St James Park, where the ducks live, where the international spies also clandestinely meet, where Aziraphale and Crowley meet on several occasions, and where Crowley and Shax have a meeting, exchanging information in S2E1.
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Ducks also get referred to here, when Aziraphale suggests they use humans to search and spy out the missing Antichrist, but Crowley insists it will be near impossible because suspicion slides off the boy like water off, what ever water slides off, because he has an automatic defense system.
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The he remembers the ducks(!) later in the Bentley when they discuss using their respective networks of highly trained human operatives (Shadwell and the Witchfinder army), and Aziraphale asks if Crowley has a better idea than his. "Ducks!" Crowley suddenly utters.
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The ducks that are always there, that you see but don't see, gathering bread crumbs, when any kind of surveillance or secret spy work is being discussed.
Nah, I thought, it couldn't be a sly ref to this famous cartoon by Larson, could it?
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Aziraphale and Crowley are always afraid that someone is watching, or listening to everything they do, from both sides. I mean isn't that partly why we got the ending we did in S2, because they have had to be so covert with their communication to each over the centuries they've forgotten how to speak plainly to each other?
Heaven has definitely been watching...
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And Hell certainly noticed Crowley's act of kindness in the Edinburgh cemetery, swiftly summoning him to Hell for punishment after his kind deed on behalf of Elspeth.
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Then when the duo meet in again 1867 Crowley wonders if "ducks have ears" before declaring they must do - that's how they hear other ducks. So its no surprise that when Crowley asks Aziraphale for holy water that he writes the request on a piece of paper to hide it from those invisible ever-present watchers they know are never far away.
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When we come to the start of S2, where Crowley is slouched in St James Park once more, reading the Tadfield Advertiser, and yelling at the Azerbaijani secret agents for feeding the ducks bread. Crumbs, it was alright to do this in the book, and S1, why is wrong now? Has Crowley suddenly become woke and caring for the ducks? Nah.
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There's a lot more to it than that. I realized this is the missing Grain offering from my post about altar offerings (see The Altar of Eccles Cakes) in S2. A Grain offering represents a voluntary expression of devotion to God - or the other side you're supposed to be aligned with, in this case.
Shax is part of this scene, discussing the latest news from below, and she mentions some special intel that Hell has received, from their own secret squirrel network. Of course they would meet in St James Park to discuss this, along with all the other spies. While Shax tries to get some intel out of Crowley about what might be going on in Heaven, because she knows he has contact with a certain angel who owns a book shop, Crowley responds by refusing to show any devotion to his former side at this point, and isn't going to give any information away that could be useful. He also doesn't have any intel at this point, anyway, but he's not going to give that away either! Heaven and Hell are toxic, and no one should be going anywhere near them, in his opinion. So stop feeding them that devotional bread!
After Shax asks what they should be feeding the ducks, he eventually says "Frozen Peas. It's good for them, they like it."
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The short period of "peas" since they stopped the impending Apocalypse has been enjoyable, and good for Crowley and Aziraphale, but the forced meeting with Beelzebub later that day soon jolts Crowley out of any complacency when they indicate that the "generalized understanding" Crowley thought they had with Heaven and Hell after the body swap to leave them alone, the one Aziraphale-as-Crowley negotiated, while asking for a rubber duck, no less, was looking very shaky and fragile indeed.
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And one more random duck ref to discuss.
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I was inspired to write this section by lalalunamoth's post calling Muriel a duckling imprinted on Crowley, and of course I did not save it, did I, and a search does not bring it back up again (found it!), so if you're reading this, or know that post, please let me know! I read it, and thought, cute, but nah, then realized that Muriel was sent on a surveillance mission to Whickber St to ascertain the truth of Aziraphale's 25 lazurii miracle. And she did act as the eyes of Heaven, writing up some reports, called Crowley "grice," then followed him around during his escapade in Heaven just like a duckling following a grumpy gander drake while he did his own surveillance measures in a Tactical Turtle neck, channeling his best imitation Sean Connery voice (have you noticed that as well, people?)
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No, no, the op wasn't wrong - those big cross ducks, er grice geese, they make good guard dogs, no?
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With special mention to Crowley acting as a surveillance duck just prior to this, and Mr Brown doing his own "spying out" of Aziraphale.
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To finish this meta, there is one other figure who notably offered the ducks bread, in the book. This passage, which is surely relevant to S3, but didn't appear in S1, shows another character still devoted to God in a way. Lets give Death the final word:
Crowley: "Maybe it's it's all part of a great ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire. And don't bother to answer. if we could understand, we wouldn't be us. Because it's all - all - "
INEFFABLE, said the figure feeding the ducks.
"Yeah. Right. Thanks."
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pixiecaps · 4 months
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The Betrayal • A Full Breakdown
This post serves as an in-depth explanation of everything that occurred with the Betrayal arc regarding qRoier at the beginning of the server. Everything is split into 10 separate sections detailing what exactly happened as well as explaining qSpreen's side of this arc. Below the "Context" section you'll find a compilation of clips all of which are translated and captioned into English. Anything not shown in the video or lacking context is explained in their respective sections. In these sections you'll also find transcribed pieces of conversations not shown in the video translated into English as well.
— Context —
VOD 1 | In order to properly understand how this all unfolds I must explain some things first. Roier had set his mind on making a taqueria on the SMP which is a Mexcian restaurant that specializes in tacos for those unaware. To do this he had to, well, make tacos. Crafting tacos took a decent amount of ingredients but one ingredient in particular proved difficult to find. The tomatillo. After 1 hour and a half of search and calling out for Osito Bimbo's help, with no response, Roier finally found a single crop of tomatillo which gave him a single seed. He's ecstatic and starts making his way back home.
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3 minutes later after he found the tomatillo and acquired the seed by himself Osito Bimbo makes an appearance. Roier quickly informs Osito that he came a little too late and questions why he now appears after having found what he was begging for minutes ago. Osito Bimbo doesn't offer any response and after lingering for a bit Roier decides to ask him something else.
Roier: Since you arrived so late, could you give me a lot of tomatillo? A lot, a lot of tomatillo. I think this is the only way I could forgive you.
Osito Bimbo: Maybe.
Roier asks Osito Bimbo for specifically a stack of tomatillo seeds, which commences a deal being inevitably struck.
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Osito Bimbo tells Roier that, in exchange for the seeds, he has to do something for him. Roier, with a mischievous tone, agrees without hesitation and without knowing what it would be that he had to do. Osito then gives him a book instructing Roier to make him 10 tacos and 3 chimichangas. Osito then hands Roier 62 seeds of tomatillo. Roier thanks him graciously and sets off home to make the long-awaited tacos.
After he arrives home and begins preparing the tacos, he realizes he doesn't have salt or lettuce, so once more, Osito Bimbo appears, and he asks Osito for the missing ingredients. This time, however, instead of food, Osito Bimbo asks Roier to give him information on Vegetta in exchange for his help. Osito was of the belief that Vegetta was plotting something that Roier may know of. Going to the extent of using gunfire on Roier to threaten information out of him, however, Roier did not budge and instead acted aloof to what Osito Bimbo may have been referring to. Osito believed his act and handed him 17 seeds of lettuce and the coordinates of where he could find salt on the island. He sets off to the coordinates and, in fact, finds the salt where Osito Bimbo had said it would be.
Roier once again returns home and begins crafting the ingredients needed for the taco, such as cheese, salsa, tortillas, etc. During this time, Roier first sees two Cucurucho's at once. One in his kitchen and another in his garden. And finally, after 3 hours and 6 minutes, Roier crafts the first taco. He hands the taco to Osito Bimbo (The one in the kitchen) and he eats it. Roier makes a joke and Osito Bimbo shoots him. To this, Roier reacts negatively and says, "It's not cool for you to treat me like that. ... You can't just shoot me then simply leave like that." As a consolation of sorts, Osito Bimbo hands Roier a poppy. Roier informs Osito that he has to leave and won't be able to make the rest of the tacos for him that day. Osito Bimbo exclaims "No!" repeatedly. Roier challenges him and says, “Oh. You won't let me leave? You won't let me leave? Are you sure?" He then spits at Osito and throws the poppy back at him. After this, Osito Bimbo replies, “Finish what I told you.” Roier then, visibly irritated, says, “You know what, Osito? You know what, Osito? I'm tired of you treating me badly. I'm tired of you treating me badly. You and I are no longer friends." And he logs out without giving Osito Bimbo a second to respond.
VOD 2 I The following day, Roier logs on and finds a trail of poppies in his home, which leads to the upstairs of the house. Following the trail, he finds a chest with 3 tacos and a book inside.
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Roier reacts to the letter warmly, declaring that he wants to keep spending time with Osito. He begins writing his own letter back as a response.
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Roier leaves the book in the chest, knowing that Osito is likely watching him in that moment and will read the book later. Then Roier commences his day by gathering ingredients and crafting more tacos.
VOD 3 | Now, before this occurred and before Roier had logged on for that very day, Spreen was also on the server exploring when he was approached by the Devil, who proposed an alliance between the two of them.
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Devil: I come here to propose an alliance. You and I, what do you think?
Spreen: What type of alliance?
Devil: An alliance. You do bad things for me and I do good things for you.
Spreen: So, I do bad things for you but it's going to be your fault?
Devil: No, because-
Spreen: So l have to take the blame for my own actions?
Devil: You just have to- No, you just have to play carefully and not get caught doing bad things.
Spreen: So I have to play with people's feelings?
Devil: Exactly, that's what I like, that's what I like.
The agreement goes as follows: Spreen will do whatever bad things the Devil asks, if Spreen so chooses to accept them, in exchange for whatever he desires. The greater his desires, the greater the sin he'll have to commit. The Devil says that there's only one condition to their alliance, which is that Spreen can never tell anyone that he's had contact with the Devil, and if in any situation the Devil is implicated, then he will rain hell on Spreen's life, like destroying his home and so forth. Additionally, if Spreen agrees to do a misdeed prompted to him by the Devil, he must complete it in the given time, or else he'll have to punish him severely. It is important to note that while talking to the Devil, Spreen mentions Roier being his "great comrade" and saved a cat from being burned alive by the Devil. The devil then conducts an interview with Spreen to see if this alliance is truly beneficial to him, and this is where Spreen reveals some information about himself.
Devil: I'm going to ask you first, who is the person you like best from this world?
Spreen: From this world?
Devil: Yes.
Spreen: My comrade Roier I honestly really like him a lot. We live together for now. And there's Missa too... My bros at home are the ones I like the best.
Devil: And would you betray Roier and Missa?
Spreen: Yeah, no problem.. Depends on what cost.
When told to list the first three acts of misdeeds that come to his mind that he could commit against his fellow islanders, he includes on the list killing one of their pets. When asked by the Devil what he'd do to someone he cherishes, like Roier or Missa, Spreen replies that he'd kill them to the point of exhaustion and to where they log off the server. Spreen asks the Devil what he'd give him in exchange for such a misdeed, and this is where the Devil proposes a plan.
Devi: Wait a moment. Does Roier have any type of pet?
Spreen: I really don't know. I think he has a cat but I don't know if it's his or Missa's.
The Devil says to find out specifically if Roier has any pets he cherishes and if that pet has a name. Giving him a piece of paper and telling him that if the pet doesn't have a name, then either name it himself or ensure Roier names it. Stating that if Spreen gathered that information he'd give him the sky and anything he could ever want. He also mentioned he'd be observing and watching Spreen from the other side while he tries to gather that information from Roier.
Now after this, Spreen heads off to his home with Roier and Missa, and Roier offers him a taco, which he gladly accepts.
— The Clips —
Further details on what is going on in the video are in the sections below. These sections include additional context and information that was not included in the video itself, which are vital to grasping the full picture of this arc.
— The Lie —
Spreen begins telling Roier that he's decided he wants to be a veterinarian and open a vet on the island. However, he wants to take a count of who on the island has pets as a form of data to see if the business would do well. So he asks Roier if he has a pet of his own. With the context provided, we know that this was a lie to find out the information assigned to him by the Devil. Roier replies that he has a dog in a cage that he has yet to tame, then proceeds to set it free and tame the dog. He names it Firusflais. Spreen tells Roier that, as a veterinarian, he shouldn't leave the dog inside a cage all day, but Roier disagrees, saying that his dog is different and likes being left inside the cage in his backpack. Spreen prods Roier further about the matter, and Roier reveals that he prefers keeping his pets in his inventory and not out in the open, like Missa's cat, out of fear of the pet being killed by someone else. Spreen disagrees, saying that Roier has a keypad door, so it's unlikely to happen. Roier then mentions that the only people who can enter the home through the keypad door are Spreen, Mariana, Missa, and him. A symbol of those that hold his utmost trust.
— The Deal —
Spreen uses and mentions a bubble blower, which reminds Roier of the turtle racing bet in which he lost it to Spreen. They laugh about it, and Roier asks if Spreen would like to do another turtle racing bet. However, Roier questions Spreen's trustworthiness when it comes to how these races are done and the possibility of them being rigged. This is right when Spreen receives a private message from the Devil telling him he has 5 minutes to return to the bar alone to inform him of what he has learned.
Spreen quickly shuts down the accusations and says that Roier can pick the turtle himself and where the race takes place. Roier then suggests the idea of doing a test race with a taco on the line. Spreen says he doesn't want to do all the work of setting up a turtle race for a simple taco. Roier defensively says that the taco isn't something to be taken lightly and took a lot of work to craft. Spreen sarcastically agrees and says it's only 5 ingredients. Roier decides to challenge Spreen to go gather all the ingredients and craft a taco himself in just ten minutes if it's so easy, and if he somehow accomplishes this, then he'll give him 100 subs. Spreen quickly agrees, stating that he'll bring all the ingredients to Roier and craft the taco in his face.
And just like that, a bet is made.
After Spreen leaves to find the ingredients, Roier reassures the voices that there is no way that Spreen could find all of the ingredients in time. The only possible way would be if Spreen sneaked into his garden to gather the ingredients.
Some further reasoning as to why Roier so confidently bet 100 subs can be looked at through two lenses. Through the meta-explanation and through a character analysis. In meta, Roier fully knew that the previous day he had spent hours trying to gather the proper ingredients to craft that taco, so logically, he knew there was no feasible way for Spreen to do the same in just ten minutes. Through his character, it makes sense for him to fully trust qSpreen in this bet, as they had done previous bets when turtle racing and qSpreen had proven himself to be an honorable man. Not just that, but qSpreen and qRoier held a tight bond in which he never could've imagined his friend lying and deceiving him. We see evidence of this bond several times days prior, but specifically in moments where you realize the importance of Roier allowing Spreen to live with him and have access to that keypad door. The same goes for Spreen when he states that one of the two people he values most is Roier.
While Spreen is off, Roier decides to complete his deal with Osito Bimbo and craft the 10 tacos and 3 chimichangas.
As Spreen exits the house and walks towards the bar, he states that now he knows what he'll ask the Devil in exchange for killing Roier’s dog. In other words, he'll ask for the taco ingredients. When he arrives at the bar, Spreen informs the Devil of everything that occurred with the dog and the deal and says that he'll do anything to that dog as long as the Devil helps him with the taco. The Devil says it's a deal as long as Spreen kills not just Roier's dog but also Missa's cat with the taco in his hand. As well as Spreen gifting 20 of those 100 subs to him. Spreen seems taken aback by this for a moment, questioning the addition of Missa’s cat to the chaos before regaining his composure and saying it seems like a good deal. Spreen talks to the voices for a moment, reassuring them and informing them of his plan.
Spreen: I don't want to kill Missa's cat, dude. I'm going to do something. I'm going to do something people, this is a round deal. I'm going to kill Missa's cat without Roier seeing and I'm going to replace it with a cat of the same breed. The issue is that when Missa comes he won't see it so l'm going to put it in a cage and I'm going to leave it placed inside the cage there, okay? Then when he takes the cat out of the cage Missa is going to say, "Hey why didn't I adopt him?". And he's going to start thinking and he's going to be suspicious but he's not going to understand what's going on. So we're going to replace Missa's cat, and then Roier's dog I'm going to fuck him up right there with the taco in my hand. And while we're at it, we're going to fuck up Roier too by getting 100 subs out of him with this taco thing. So don't worry. I've got it all figured out.
This moment in particular is one of the times where you can see how much of a mastermind qSpreen really is and how his mind works. Someone not to be messed with. However, the one fatal flaw in this entire ordeal is that he underestimated Roier's experiences with that taco. With the knowledge of what happens after all this occurs when Spreen is explaining his plan you realize they were all doomed the second he agreed to that deal. It was just a matter of time.
After the Devil hands Spreen the ingredients for the taco, he informs him that he only has 15 minutes to kill Missa's cat and Roier's dog. He sets off back to Roier in a hurry, as he only had 5 minutes left to complete the taco deal with Roier. The Devil then quickly reminds him that if he doesn't complete the misdeed, he'll be punished.
— Doubt —
Spreen arrives at Roier's home immediately, telling him that he's awful at making bets as he hands him the ingredients for the taco. Roier is incredibly shocked and confused before quickly starting to question how and where Spreen had found all the ingredients. Spreen doesn't budge and starts claiming Roier had simply done a worse job looking for the ingredients than him and that that was all there was to it. He asks for the 100 subs and the taco itself; however, Roier continues to question him specifically about where he found the tomatillo, salt, and what he needed to craft the salsa. Spreen continues to lie, and Roier takes note of this. Roier then begins calling Spreen a liar as Spreen continues to not inform Roier of how he honestly got the ingredients.
Roier: Who gave you all of this? Where did you get this, asshole?
Spreen: Dude I got it on my own. Stop lying. I find it disrespectful that you're lying to me with the fact that-
Roier: I find it disrespectful that after what we've been through, Spreen, you're lying to me, dude.
Spreen: You're lying to me, asshole because you bet something and you're not delivering.
The situation quickly escalates as Roier hands Spreen his globe and tells him he's allowed to take it from their home before he beats him up for lying to him. This globe Spreen had specifically acquired his second day on the island and was a valued item of his. *(1) Spreen tells him not to start with him as he pulls out an enchanted diamond sword as an intimidation tactic. The only enchantment on the sword being bane of arthropods.
Considering the qRoier spider hybrid depiction, | thought that detail was quite coincidental and ironic.
To which Roier responds by equipping a set of enchanted diamond armor with all but a pair of boots. Spreen sees this and hands him his own pair of enchanted diamond boots, taunting him. Spreen then demands to be paid the subs, and Roier refuses and spits on him. Spreen continues to demand for Roier to complete his part of the deal, but Roier suggests fighting for it instead. Spreen refuses to do this, as this wasn't part of the original deal. Soon after this, Roier finally says fine and that he'll gift Spreen the subs; however, he tells Spreen that he never mentioned when he'd gift him the subs. Spreen, upset by this, questions if this is really how Roier is going to handle the situation.
Spreen then swears to Roier that he had planned offstream to make tacos for his bar days prior, which is why he had the ingredients for the taco already. To back this up, he states that he had also, while offstream, made a structure for his new home, which he could show Roier as proof that he had been doing things offstream. Roier doesn't believe him but complies when Spreen offers to show him this supposed structure. As Roier follows Spreen, he says he wants to contact his lawyer Quackity. Spreen then shows Roier the structure and continues with his lie, stating that the same day he was constructing his home, he spent 5 hours online and went looking for the tomatillo. Roier's suspicions do not subside, and he says again that he'll have to speak with his lawyer since he doesn't believe him. Spreen isn't particularly fond of the lawyer idea, saying that Roier is complicating his day and he just wants the issue to be resolved quickly. In the context of the deal, we know this is because he still needed to kill the pets and is wasting time with this dispute. He had wasted 8 of the 15 minutes he was given to kill the pets at this point.
— The Court Case —
After Roier messages Quackity for assistance with the situation, Quackity promptly arrives at Roier and Spreen's home. And Roier hands Quackity a taco as a gift. At this point, Spreen had 5 minutes on the clock to kill the cat and the dog. The Devil starts striking lightning around Spreen as a warning. Roier and Quackity become alarmed and question what is causing the lightning, while Spreen remains silent and tells them to hurry this up as he would like to leave for the day. Spreen tells his side of the story to Quackity, leaving out everything to do with the Devil, of course, and is once again reminded that time is ticking by the Devil. Specifically, he has 3 minutes to complete his side of the deal, or else the consequences will be severe. As well as to remember their blood pact.
Roier then begins to tell his side of the story while Spreen excuses himself to go to the bathroom. The Devil messages Spreen again, telling him that for every minute he exceeds the given time, he'll have to give away 1 more sub to him, or else his home, the one in construction, will completely disappear forever. During this bathroom break, Spreen walks into the home, apologizes to the cat, and kills it before quickly heading back to Quackity and Roier. 2 minutes left. The Devil reminds Spreen to kill Roier's dog with the taco in his hand as he had forgotten to kill the cat with the taco.
Quackity hears both sides of the story and calls for a testimony from a witness. The witness being Quackity himself, who was not present for the situation when it occurred. As a witness, Quackity states that Roier is in the wrong, as obtaining a taco is not difficult at all. He comes to this conclusion because, having logged in for just a couple minutes, he had acquired a taco. This taco, of course, was the one Roier had gifted him minutes prior. This leaves Roier shocked and betrayed by a friend who he trusted would take his side in this dispute. Roier then questions Quackity about how he got the taco, knowing full well that he had given him that taco.
Roier: And how did you find that? How did you find that Quackity?
Quackity: It was very easy, very easy. I grabbed a tortilla and put the ingredients inside. It was very easy.
Now from Roier's POV this may seem very coincidental and perhaps a planned action by Spreen and Quackity but to clarify not once did Spreen whisper to Quackity to help him or tell him to choose his side for some type of a reward. This was purely their actions lining up and causing a massive impact on Roier and his trust in them.
Spreen states he's hungry and asks Quackity for the taco and Quackity hands it to him. Spreen does this so that he could have a taco to kill the dog.
Quackity now serving as the role of the judge comes to the conclusion that Roier should be annexed for three weeks and would have to go to jail. Roier is left shocked and bewildered by this conclusion. Spreen quickly steps in and tells Quackity that those extremes would not have to be necessary as Roier is his comrade and that all he asks is for Roier to complete his side of the deal. The Devil starts counting down 30 seconds to Spreen so he adds that he would also like Roier to give him his dog on top of the subs. Roier confused asks why his dog and Spreen just says he wants the dog again.
After some discussion Roier agrees to give Spreen his dog as long as he doesn't have to pay the subs. Spreen refuses to accept this negotiation. Roier states that he doesn't have the dog with him and that it's currently at the vet. Spreen however knowing this to be wrong as Roier earlier placed the caged dog in his backpack in front of him continues pressing further for the dog. Quackity then says Spreen is entitled to take physical and violent action against Roier if he refuses to complete his part of the deal. Roier starts exclaiming that Quackity is corrupted and that he had trusted him. That he had trusted both Quackity and Spreen. Asking whats wrong with them and saying that they aren't normally like this. With 3 seconds on the clock, Spreen, having heard what Quackity said about being allowed to take violent action, takes this as a green light and begins attacking Roier.
— The Hunt —
Spreen hits Roier first with his iron axe and Roier begins fleeing stating that he won't pay anything and that they're in the wrong. Spreen shouts to Roier saying that he has to help him. Roier then shouts saying this isn’t how things work. Spreen hits him again and he whimpers. 17 hearts. Quackity following behind Spreen tells Roier to pay him so that this will all be over. Roier says he won't keep discussing or hand over the dog until Spreen calms down. So Quackity tries to ask Spreen to calm down but he doesn't. Another hit. 14.5 hearts. Roier exclaims that he's going to die and begins running out of flat space to run. Hit. 12 hearts. Quackity says that he knows he's meant to be his lawyer but to give up the dog already. Hit again. 9 hearts. And another one. 7 hearts. And another. 4 hearts. Roier begins shouting that he had trusted Quackity over and over. Quackity once again says to hand over the dog and Roier refuses. He says that they're wrong again. Then Spreen downs Roier. Spreen begins shouting at Roier saying to hand over the dog or else he'll kill him. And right as Roier gives up and agrees to hand over the dog Spreen lands the final blow killing Roier. The chase takes 1 minute and 34 seconds.
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Spreen then takes the cage from Roier's body and starts killing the dog with the taco. Quackity tries to protest and get him to stop but it's ineffective and the dog dies anyway. Spreen tells Quackity that it was inevitable and he had to do it. As well as that Roier would not find out. Unbeknownst to Spreen that Roier got notified in chat that his pet had been killed. As Roier begins to feel saddened by the death he tells himself that he cannot get like this. Spreen in the meantime receives a message by the Devil telling him to meet him at the bar in less than 5 minutes.
— The Hurt —
After being killed, Roier spawns thousands of blocks away due to having set his spawn in a dungeon he had done days prior, so he breaks the bed and allows a zombie to kill him. In fact, he begins begging for the zombies to kill him, exclaiming that he's tired of this life. When his death to the zombies is shown in chat Quackity types laughter as a response in chat, and Roier takes note of this behavior, stating that it's fine and that he had trusted Quackity. He goes on to say that the hurt he feels isn't even because of the loss of his pet, but because of the trust and friendship he lost with Quackity and Spreen. Describing the situation as a betrayal he never would've expected of Quackity and even less of Spreen.
Roier: If he (Spreen) wanted money I could've given it to him, I hope it'll be more worthwhile for him to have earned that money now that he has lost my friendship.
After Roier returns to his body, a few snarky comments get thrown by Spreen before he leaves.
Quackity: (Looking through Roier's backpack) My god 40 diamonds! Only diamond armor bro.
Roier: Go on. If you want to rob it from me, rob it from me if you want to. It's fine.
Spreen: No, my friend, nobody is robbing anything from you. Not like you who tries to rob from others with your fake bets. (Walks away)
Quackity sticks with Roier, trying to ensure that his friend isn't too mad at him for the events that unfolded. Roier, however, remains clearly upset. When he gets his backpack back from Quackity, he notices that he took all his food and tacos. He asks Quackity if he has taken his food, and while blatantly lying, Quackity says no. Quackity then offers Roier his own food back at him.
Quackity: Do you want food? Look I'II give you some. (Gives Roier 31 toast)
Roier: Yeah I'd like that. A bit of food.
Quackity: No worries, no worries. You know thats what friends are for.
Roier: What did you say?
Quackity: You know thats what friends are for Roier. Don't worry.
Roier: What friends are for?
Quackity: Yeah, to give food to one another-
Roier: For what you did back there? Is that what friends are for?
Quackity then asks where his thank you is for having helped him with the dispute with Spreen. Roier doesn't say thank you. Quackity then tells Roier that he won't charge him for the legal representation.
Quackity: For the legal representation. I'm not going to charge you because you're a close friend. You're a close friend.
Roier: It's a good thing I'm a close friend, because if I was an enemy, just imagine.
Quackity: Oh shit yeah, no, imagine! No, no, no.
Roier: Imagine how it would have gone.
Roier continues to be noticeably upset through his tone of voice, and Quackity once again asks if he's doing alright, and Roier continues to act as if everything is fine.
VOD 4 | Meanwhile, Spreen goes to the bar and finds the devil waiting for him. He's quickly informed that he passed the test and that the contract between them has been finalized. The Devil expresses that he's forgiven for going over the set time because he killed the dog and Roier as well. Which was done in such a brilliant manner that it satisfied the Devil.
Devil: You have literally sold your soul. You have done evil against a friend you love and I love that, so congratulations you have passed the test.
The Devil leaves swiftly, and Spreen decides to return to his friends.
This is when the Angel appears in front of Roier and Quackity, saying that he's looking for someone who doesn't belong to this world, specifically a red being. Roier then shows that he has a red hoodie, and the Angel asks him to step closer so he can get a better look at him. As he steps onto a block closer, the Angel breaks the one below Roier, and he falls to his death and is downed.
Spreen decides he wants to apologize to Roier for acting impulsively. Right then, he sees the downed message in chat and stumbles upon Quackity laughing as the Angel comes up with excuses for his actions. Spreen tells them he wants to apologize to Roier over what occurred with the bet and where he could find Roier. Quackity, still laughing, doesn't answer quickly enough before Spreen notices Roier had been tricked and is down below them. Spreen water drops and misses landing on two hearts. He picks Roier up, hands him food, and says he's there to say his sorries. Explaining that he was acting impulsively and let the situation overcome him. He then hands Roier his globe as a gift. And in a way for Spreen, it served as a symbol of his honest apology to his closest friend. Roier, however, is unfazed.
The Angel then decides to take Quackity, Roier, and Spreen on a fun adventure. During this, Roier remains in an upset mood while Spreen and Quackity try to mend whatever is left of their friendship. In one moment, Spreen asks if Roier wants any food, and Roier says no, but Spreen still hands him a golden apple. The Angel decides to gift Roier a pet dog so that he can feel better and because animals make people happy. Roier says thank you, and then Spreen and Roier stare at each other in silence as Spreen blows bubbles. As some meta commentary, Rubius plays both the Devil and the Angel and his decision to gift Roier a dog as the Angel after having orchestrated the entire plan to kill his previous dog as the Devil. Sick and twisted. I was jaw-dropped by this the first time watching. Love it. Quackity then gifts Roier two tacos to try and make him happy. It doesn't work.
The Angel asks the group what'd make them happy, and Spreen says confessing his sins, so they begin doing a group confession. Spreen begins by sharing that he killed a dog, a cat, and a friend. And additionally mentions the illegal turtle racing. The Angel forgives him. Quackity then goes to the podium and confesses to doing a poor legal job representing someone. The Angel forgives him. The Angel then encourages Roier to confess, as he sees darkness in his soul that needs to be purified. Stating that God himself told the Angel on WhatsApp to help Roier. The Angel tells Roier that he needs to do something good for someone who wronged him today. Specifically, he needs to gift Spreen a named pet. Saying that doing this will benefit him in the future. Roier agrees. Spreen already had a tiger in his backpack that he wanted as a pet, so he sets it free and allows Roier to recapture it so that he can gift it to him as a pet. Roier names it Algodón de Azúcar or Cotton Candy. Spreen is grateful then logs off at this point. It is important to note that he doesn't end up doing the replacement plan of Missa's cat.
Roier then continues to hang out with Quackity. Whenever Quackity wasn't talking, he'd give him a death glare, which would quickly shift into a smile with a joyous tone of voice when it came his turn to speak and continue the conversation.
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Had to include a gif. It's too good.
As they arrive at Quackity's home, Roier pulls out an enchanted iron sword with murderous intent before putting the sword away. They spend the rest of the day together, and Roier is able to act perfectly fine around Quackity while still holding onto that anger and grudge by the time they say goodbye.
— The Aftermath —
VOD 5 | The following day, Roier continues to show his distrust for Quackity and with Spreen stating at one point that one of the few people who hasn't betrayed him and who he can truly trust is Vegetta. As well as Missa and Mariana. Mentioning that he does believe Mariana could betray him at some point, but as of that point in time, he had not, so they're on good terms. He considers whether he should tell Vegetta about what happened to him with Spreen and Quackity. While on the way to Vegetta's home, he gets attacked by a mob and gets overcome with sadness, saying that it reminded him of the day before when he was being attacked and killed.
After greeting Vegetta, he offers him some tacos as a gift, telling him that they were quite difficult to craft. And Vegetta looks at the recipe and agrees, deciding to cherish them. This is a direct contrast to Spreen's reaction to them.
Roier then tells Vegetta he was betrayed and asks for advice and if Vegetta would like to know who the people are. Vegetta says no, saying he'd rather not involve himself too much so he can offer unbiased assistance. Vegetta does agree to help him and then advises Roier to place a bunch of mines in the homes of these people.
Vegetta and Roier then set off to do dungeons together. After they finish, they find Quackity at spawn with Fit, and Roier decides to tell Vegetta that he's upset with Quackity but is going to act friendly when in reality he wants to kill him. Vegetta understands and goes along with this. They spy on their conversation but once they're caught Vegetta and Roier decide to shower Fit and Quackity with gifts, while Roier purposefully keeps referring to Quackity as his friend.
Roier keeps playing the act of being on friendly terms with Quackity until Vegetta logs off. Once he's back home, he removes Spreen from the keypad door whitelist. Then, after some thought, he re-adds him to the whitelist as to give off the impression of their friendship being intact while he plans to stab him in the back.
Quackity then shows up at Roier's home, and they have a conversation.
Quackity: The other day something happened that has greatly separated your friendship and mine.
Roier: Of course, of course.
Quackity: And I just want to make sure that there are no future problems between us. And I just wanted to reassure that part of our friendship.
Roier: (Crosses fingers) Rest assured, rest assured.
Quackity: Perfect. Because if anything happens to me... (Steps closer) I'll have someone to blame.
Roier: Of course, don't worry.
Quackity: Do you have enemies?
Roier: No, not at all.
Quackity: I hope it stays that way. I'm leaving. And remember not to mess with me.
Roier: I won't mess with anyone.
(Quackity leaves)
Roier: Don't worry Quackity. Don't worry Quackity. I won't be the one to do anything to you no, no, no, no, no, that's going to be you Quackity. That's gonna be you. Don't worry. I'm not even gonna touch you. I'm not even gonna touch you Quackity. You'll see. You'll see.
— The Cat —
Missa logs in after a few days of not being online and quickly notices his cat is missing. He looks around the entire house and doesn't find the cat, so he asks in chat where Roier is. Roier says he's on the way to talk to him.
Roier returns home to greet Missa and is immediately questioned by him about the whereabouts of his cat. Roier decides he has to break the news to him about what occurred with Spreen and Quackity. He tells Missa how he was betrayed, humiliated, and had his dog killed, which is likely the same fate Missa's cat suffered. Missa doesn't take this well and shouts what his cat had to do with any of it. Roier says he doesn't know, but that they were betrayed. Missa says that there's probably a misunderstanding. Since the cat had brought nothing but peace to their home, how could someone have hurt him? Roier agrees, saying that his dog too is gone. Missa shouts to hell with his dog since he never met him. Roier then starts retelling everything that happened to Missa, from the start with the tacos to the end with the axe in his back. Missa isn't understanding: instead, he begins blaming everything on Roier because surely there has to be a misunderstanding.
Missa: Spreen is my brother. Spreen wouldn't do something like that.
Roier: But he did. He did Missa.
Missa then starts considering every possibility except reality. He wonders if it was even the real Spreen and Quackity; perhaps they were imposters, but Roier tells him to accept that it was them. Missa doesn't stop; he says that something is wrong; something must have happened, as Spreen would never. Then he says that maybe their dream of making a taqueria shouldn't be done. Roier doesn't accept this, however, saying that even Vegetta understands that they must do a taqueria. Roier then tells Missa that he'll get revenge on Spreen and Quackity, even if Missa doesn't want revenge because they were the ones that beat and hurt him. He continues telling Missa that he's going to keep pretending to be their friend and, when they least expect it, betray them as they did him. Missa says not to do something he'll regret. Missa, in his fit of despair and sadness over the loss of his cat, says that he cannot keep living in that home with Roier. Once again Missa blames everything on Roier, he goes on to say that this was all because of Roier's desire for tacos.
Missa: All because of your desire for tacos. Roier this is all your fault if you hadn't- if you hadn't planned on making a taqueria..
After saying this, Missa goes to leave, but before that, Roier asks if Missa is really going to leave him alone like that. Missa says that he isn't alone; he has his tacos and then walks out of the house they built with a future together in mind. A future that no longer existed from that moment forward.
Roier stays silent for a while before he says, "Not you too, Missa." He, in a fit of rage, starts breaking the trail of poppies Osito Bimbo had left him. In disbelief that any of this had happened.
Roier: Missa, Spreen, Quackity, who's next? Mariana? Is Mariana next? I only have Vegetta and Mariana. I only have Vegetta and Mariana.
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In the end, Roier is left alone without his dog, without the cat, without Spreen, and without Missa.
VOD 6 | Missa, after having composed himself, concludes that while he doesn't believe Spreen would hurt his cat, he also doesn't want to fight with Roier. So he runs to their home to say sorry, but once he arrives, Roier is no longer there. Minutes too late, as Roier had logged off. So instead, he leaves a chest with a poppy inside as a sign that there's no bad blood between them. As well as a sign saying it's for Roier.
What's important to mention is that Missa had a heavy amount of trust placed in Spreen because it was his brother, and he couldn't fathom Spreen doing something so terrible. Something quite ironic about the cat is that Roier was the one who warned Missa not to adopt a cat in case anyone used it against them. *(2) Explaining that an emotional attachment to a cat would only open the possibility of hurt in the future. And in the end, that is exactly what happened.
— Citations —
*(1) VOD | Spreen finding the globe. 1:42:32
*(2) VOD | Roier warning Missa about adopting a cat. 4:15:13
All the other information can be found in the respective VODs linked.
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Cat!Scaramouche in heat x reader (NSFW)
note: I don't remember when I wrote this but it was way before Wanderer came out and when he was still the balladeer. Either way I don't think I posted this so I'll do that now! Enjoy, loves!
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You haven't seen Scaramouche for a couple days and have searched everywhere, you begin to think he just up and left but as you search for him one morning Childe walks by you cracking up and barely holding it together. 
You ask him what's up and he manages to pull himself together,  “It must have been a miracle I wasn't killed by the balladeer because I managed to get away fast enough.” 
Finding out that your lover had gone half a mile away to a cottage for a week because of something he wasn't telling you. You thanked him and went off to go confront him when the ginger pulled you back. 
“He’s pretty pissy right now so be careful he doesn’t take a swipe at you. I’ll see you later, girlie/buddy. I need to thank whoever caused this.” So you set off for that place and after a few minutes came upon a small cottage near a lake, knocking on the door and hearing some things move and shift around inside.
You get concerned so you walk in and move to the bedroom, seeing Scaramouche sitting near his desk with his head down, his hat still on, which was strange because he always took it off when he was alone and inside. 
Hearing you come forward, he doesn't turn around and only grumbles, continuing to complete paperwork. “Get out! You’re only bothering me! I’ll be back in a couple days so don’t worry like you always do, it’s pathetic.”
You of course don't buy it at all and to face him, ripping his hat off and seeing two small violet cat ears on his head that twitched when you tried to touch them. He muttered how idiotic you were to do something like that but what caught your eye was that he had a fierce blush covering his face. 
Not only that but he was all hot and sweaty like he'd just finished training for a couple hours, which couldn't be true because of all the paperwork that has recently been completed next to him.
Your eyes betrayed you as you looked over at his ears again, seeing them move at your gaze and how soft to the touch they were before you heard him growl and get up to move across the room. Now catching a glimpse of a feline tail swishing about in frustration, you had to admit it was adorable and now you could tell why he holed himself up so no one could see him.
And why Childe was laughing his ass off and going to probably tell all the other harbingers, which you understood was humiliating and perfectly understood why he was holed up in here. “Scara, it’s okay but why do you look so worked up? Are you sick?” 
Another grumble came out of him and he shook his head, going to sit down on the bed and pat the space next to him. “You know how certain feline animals go through a period called heat?” You immediately caught on and smirked, everything clicked and you reached your hand down to his tail. 
Running your fingers from the tip to the base, not missing the purr your boyfriend was making, and started playing around with it. You then moved onto his ears and blew cold air at them. They twitched and he shuddered, a sudden confidence overshadowed you. “You seem so tense. Why don’t I help?” 
His tail slowed down and swished from side to side, eyes dilating when you said those words. You took that as a go ahead and leaned down to his black pants, working them off and palming the tent in his boxers. 
A soft moan left his lips and Scaramouche tilted his head back, enjoying the pleasure you were giving him and grabbed the back of your head, forcing it against his erection. “Why don’t you quit teasing and actually get to work, slut?” The small damp spot where his precum wet the fabric touched your cheek and you could feel how hard he was. 
You pulled down his underwear and took a long lick from the base of his shaft to the tip, curling your hand around the base and hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip. Circling your tongue around his cock you bopped your head up and down, kittenlicking his slit and cupping his balls. Being pushed on by his moans and the pressure on his hand increasing.
“That’s it. Your mouth is always the best~ Maybe you should just be my little cock slut instead, huh?” Moaning when he said that, you continued to suck and kiss the tip of his cock. His breath hitched and he started to buck his hips, relaxing your throat so you didn’t gag. 
Scaramouche let out a loud groan as his hips faltered and you felt his dick spasm, taking in all of his cum and trying to not let a drop spill. He relaxed his hand and you got off, being brought up by his hand and kissing his lips. You panted when you broke apart and kissed his neck, taking off his clothes and slowly stripping him naked. 
“Such a good girl, being so obedient for me~ You think you can take my cock, you did an amazing job sucking me off but I think my cock might be a bit too big for your small pretty pussy.” You keened at his words and shook your head, grinding your cunt on his erection. 
He smirked and pulled you closer, the tip of his dick grazing your lips and you rolled your hips to gain more friction. He clicked his tongue and maneuvered his other hand down to your clit, “Hold on, I need to stretch that tight cunt out so I don’t hurt you. Then again, you’d probably get off on that, being skewered on my cock and so sex drunk that you can only scream my name.”
His fingers dipped into your cunt while his thumb circled your clit, spreading apart your labia and reaching his fingers deeper into your hole. Your lover knew your body as well as you did, almost better, he knew just where to touch you so you could cum on command and exactly where to kiss or bite on your neck so that you completely gave into him. 
“I’m not that cockdrunk-“ Scara put pressure on your bud and you interrupted yourself with a moan, fighting against his hold on your waist so you could meet his thrusts. It didn’t help that not only was he strong but he knew what buttons to press and where. 
But your lover wasn’t normal right now, he was in a cat-like heat and had sensitive ears and a tail, snaking your hands up to his indigo fluffy ears and stroking the very tips. 
You succeeded at shaking his dominance when he moaned at his ears twitched, leaning into your hand even more and his tail wrapping around your wrist. 
If you listened closely you could also hear a small purr coming from his throat. Instead of stopping like you thought, it seemed to spur him on and pump his fingers into you faster. “You don’t know what you just did, kitten.” Chuckling as he reeled you closer and closer toward an orgasm, failing to contain the lewd noises you were causing. 
Gasping when you felt his tongue lick one of your nipples and sucking the tip of your breast with lips, nipping the sensitive tit and letting go when he backed up. Every reaction you were giving was pure pleasure to him, thinking that he maybe should’ve sought you out sooner rather then shutting himself in. 
Scaramouche switched tits and gave some attention to the other, flicking the nipple with his tongue in time with his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You arched your back at the dual sensation and your breathing quickened, whimpering out at the knot building up. “Scara- hm- I’m cumming-“ 
At those words he stopped his movement all together, pulling his fingers out of your soaked pussy and bringing them up to your lips.
“I think it’s only fair that you clean up your own mess, don’t you?” Despite the clear confusion on your face you obeyed and opened your mouth, letting your tongue welcome his slick covered fingers. 
“Such a pretty kitty, my pretty kitty. Sucking my fingers so well, you must be a whore for my cock if you're obeying all my orders.” You whined and went to roll your hip, desperate for something as you high died down because it could climax. 
All that earned you was a slap to your ass and to your cunt, yelping at the impact. “I would’ve let you orgasm if you hadn’t tried to play with my ears, but you just had to go and give yourself a punishment.” 
You tried to mumble out an apology but you were busy with fingers, lapping up your cum and pleading with your eyes that you’d be good. “Are you going to be an obedient girl?” Nodding and humming you agreed, swirling your tongue around his fingers and bobbing your head. 
Internally screaming in joy when he smirked and lifted your hips, positioning you over his dick and looking at you for confirmation. You nodded and your head fell into his shoulders when he snapped his hips up. Rolling your hips against his to get him to move, kissing you and beginning to thrust into you cunt. 
“Such a good cutie~ Taking my cock so well.” Lewd noises and breathing echoed the room, skin slapping against skin. He brought you in for a kiss and cupped your cheek, angling his body so he hit just the right spots. 
You cried out when his cock hit one spot that made you arch your back, gasping and crying out. “There! Right there~ Scara-” Reaching your hips up so you could get that striking pleasure again and your lover meeting you. 
Scaramouche put his hand on the small of your back and pushed it up, increasing the pleasure you both felt by ten fold. “You feel so good!” Moaning as you kissed and bit his neck, receiving praise from your lover with each meet of your hips. 
You felt the knot build up again, you pleaded at the violet haired harbinger to let you cum and grinning in relief when he let you. “You’ve such a good pet so okay. Cum.” The damn broke and you mewled against him, milking his dick for all he’s worth. 
Thighs shaking as you rode out your high, Scaramouche felt his own orgasm approaching and your walls contracting, pulling out right but he came. His small cute ears bending back and tail wrapping around your wrist. White thick ropes spurting out onto your stomach and resting his arms on either side of you, he kissed your lips. 
“You alright darling?” You nodded and sighed. “Just tired. Can we rest?” He chuckled and nodded, getting up to grab a cloth to clean you up. Wiping the cum off of your stomach and outer lips, you shivered at the cool sensation and shivered. 
Before throwing it away into a wastebasket and coming back to you, he snuggled into your chest and whispered how this wasn’t a total failure of a day. Laughing you agreed and settled into him, rubbing his ears and smiling when he allowed himself to be soft.
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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 months
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prison for life | johnny slaughter x gn!reader
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a/n — I don't really like this lol, butttttt the low amount of Johnny content constitutes that the worst fics must be posted for the quantity
summary — Johnny got into a fight over you at the bar you own, and you patch him up.
words — 1.9k
warnings — mentions of blood and Johnny getting more scars. language
~~~
Watching people trickle out of the bar and onto the gravel pathway leading to your bar was always a treat—wishing them a safe travel home and a safer time searching for their keys while they laughed at the jokes the regulars heard every night and the newcomers would eventually get sick of. It’s what the final few minutes of any establishment should strive for. You got to be a part of the community from behind the bar, towel slung over one shoulder and the stream of a bottle flying over the next with the help of your many acquired flashy tricks. The final drink would be made just for you, by yourself. What wasn’t fun was watching them leave with shock and awe painted on their faces, the women ogling the man that just clobbered another out cold. The men with their spouses left in a hurry, both in fear of what happened moments before and nervousness that Johnny would snake his arm around those he stared at all night; his intentions for staring? Unclear. The line at which he would go from another bar patron to your champion of contest was equally so. Closing time should be that, but here you were, serving your last patron with alcohol that didn’t go anywhere near his mouth. It was for a scar on his shoulder…and for the nosebleed…and for his de-rooted tooth…and for the scar on his face. You would definitely need another drink after this. 
Maybe two, just to see if Johnny was still alive. Still in the real world, if he was in it to begin with. His pain tolerance was uncomfortably high and he didn’t wince as much as you would in this situation. He proved it when he spoke, his voice low and gruff but still permeating through to the levity you were used to.
“Another scar to add to the collection.” He smirked, revealing the blood staining his teeth and wrinkling the blood that had dried on his skin just under his nose. 
He could fight pretty well, but everyone has a center of gravity and the guys from the city possessed the knowledge to know how to tip him over like cattle. But Johnny actually did tip cattle, he was the one getting his hands dirty almost every day. He was used to meatheads. So in a quick motion of left-hooks and failed dodges, Johnny had the man on the floor within seconds.
“And another tooth lost.” You said, swishing around the one that was sitting at the bottom of an empty drinking glass. It rattled and clinked against the inside of the glass like someone dunked the body of a savior—your savior—in a stoup. While it was covered and stained with blood from the root it had been separated from, you could see between the red striping over it to notice the yellow staining—a trademark of bad hygiene. At certain angles, there seemed to be a black spot that was insidiously drilling into his tooth to rot it from the inside. “At least the cavity’s gone.”
“I got more of ‘em, though. Plenty, like shark teeth.” His smirk stretched into a wide grin, flashing his teeth in your direction. The gap between his teeth would have led you to believe he was missing something much bigger, but it was probably just your own head struggling to recognize it as a new feature on his face. It wasn’t like his fresh cuts that would turn to scars and eventually fade, no. Every time he smiled, smoked a cigarette, or bared his teeth to threaten someone, there would always be something missing now. 
“I’ll count each row and if there aren’t fifty… Well, I know where one is. You want it?” Good thing there wasn’t anything missing in your relationship. He still bickered and didn’t lose his bite after the loss of one molar. 
“Nah, just chuck it.” He didn’t want it to be more trouble than it was worth. It was his DNA—not yet incriminating for the time but it would be harder to identify him based on dental records, for the little paper trail he had left behind.
While he didn’t want to take home the proof that he didn’t walk away from the fight unscathed, he still won the fight. You tried to remind him of that, “Hey, you get to tell your family about the other guy when you get home. I think they will be pretty happy to hear that you’re okay. Minus one tooth.”
He laughed. This would be the part where he’d usually take a drink between pauses during the many conversations you shared with him before, his hand cupping at the air in a reflex before lightly knocking against the wooden bar with a flat palm. Almost in defeat; it was the same hand he had successfully tipped a cow down with one punch. “Sure… they’ll be real worried.”
You set the glass down as he tried picking one up, moving over to the first aid kit that was open and ripped apart from the inside, unpacking all of the quick medicinal fixes it had to offer. Johnny had a few cuts and you rushed to get it when the fight turned serious. Now that it had de-escalated: the man still on the floor with glass shards surrounding him, Johnny returning to the seat he’d been occupying at the bar all night, it made you feel a little overreactive to the situation.
Rounding the bar, you filled the space atop the empty brown stool next to Johnny. He leaned in your direction, brandishing his wounded shoulder with ease thanks to his sleeveless black tank. There was one deep cut heading straight for his bursa in the middle of his shoulder and a few lighter ones surrounding it that would only need  to be cleaned and bandaged. The man didn’t speak and Johnny didn’t wince when you started patching him up. You were using vodka to treat his wounds, and a small glass of water to clean that after you wiped away the blood. The towel you usually had slung over your shoulder was now turning a deep red from its vibrant white, matted down with his blood. Lightly, you dabbed a little at his face, but he wouldn’t really turn to look in your direction. Once they were all clean, it was time to start on his dwelling laceration: you started on the right side and pierced the surface of his skin to lightly sew it back together. Johnny was a little squeamish to the feeling, but it started looking better towards the end. Too bad you couldn’t do the same for his tooth.
“Try not to move that arm so much or I’ll have to put another stitch in it.” You tried to get his mind onto something else and decided that being a pain in his ass would be better than letting his mind settle on the pain in his shoulder and face. You had two stitches or so left to do before you could tie off the thin thread. “C’mon, you can tell them about how you kicked that guy out!”
“He came at me with a glass after I asked him to leave. Not much of a story to tell.” Johnny sounded a bit unamused, like the work he did was conscientious to the liking of a law enforcer.
“That’s not how I remember it.” Johnny came up to the guy, commanding him to leave for the things he overheard. When he refused to leave, Johnny grabbed him by the arm with enough strength to lift him out of his seat. The man’s drink spilled out of his glass, and in an undefinable rage, he hit Johnny with the glass on his left shoulder—the same side as the arm he used to pull him away from his source of intoxication. You only caught wind of the last action, returning from the back office with a rack of clean drinking glasses that you let slip out of your grasp when you saw Johnny get hit. The noise caused him to turn to look at you, revealing the scar across his face from one of the shards of glass grazing his cheek from the impact on his shoulder to cut him up.
“Listen!” He snarled out, shooting up and pulling away from you. You just had to tie the knot at this point. “I woulda kept my cool but he—”
“I don’t pay you to keep your cool.” And you were right, he kind of just came in and occupied a seat in the bar. He would stare at people when they barked at you—his warm brown eyes hardening into dirt-colored pebbles and silica daggers, unseen but felt. Sometimes, these men would take it too far and he’d cause them to fall face-first into the dirt outside after a harsh eviction. What would Johnny do with this guy? You could probably drag him out of the place if you really tried, but Johnny could lift like he ate—big and hefty. 
“You don’t pay me nothin’” But he was right, too. He wasn’t the typical image of security. He wasn’t big enough to block doors, he didn’t sit at the entrance, and he sure as hell didn’t care to card people walking in. 
“Except in free drinks. Get a six-pack out of the cooler on your way out, you earned it. Just… don’t drink it ‘till you’re home?” There was a black refrigerator by the door with a glass panel taking up most of the hinged door in front of it. Of all the things to get broken in the fight, you wouldn’t expect a measly cup to go first.
Or for your heart to shatter, when Johnny asked with a little bit of surprise, “You worried about me?”
“About myself. I don’t have the strength or gall to take on the farmers around here.” You pulled on the string hanging from his shoulder, tying it into a knot. You decided in the brief moment between spoken words that Johnny would be fine without treating his face if it was only cleaned. “And you have to get that guy home—that’s your last job of the night. I’ll help you throw him into your pickup, yeah?”
“But he, he said things about you I didn’t like.” You turned to the first-aid kit, reaching in for the tiny pair of scissors to cut the extra thread. When you turned back, you spoke with intrigue.
“Like what?” 
“I don’t want to think about it. He might not make it home safe if I do.” Johnny smirked, his eyes wandering off into his own fantasy for a moment at the things he could do to the man on the floor. 
“Fine, I won’t pry.” You finished up stitching him, closing the book on the night’s chaos. Johnny got out of his stool, standing over the guy with both legs on either side of his unconscious body. He reached down and hoisted him up by the shoulders, being intentionally careless as he let his legs drag and hit against the table and chair legs on his way out. You got a six-pack for him—a Pearl beer, his favorite—and followed him out to his old Chevy. Johnny didn’t tear any of his stitchings when throwing the guy into the back of his truck, and the drunken bastard didn’t wake up to any of Johnny’s rough handlings. You said your goodbyes to him and wished the guy a safe and bumpy travel home, but he would never walk back into the bar again.
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hey-syia · 4 months
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Between The Lines
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Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: office au, office romance, angst, strangers(?) to lovers, Co-workers to Lovers, fluff towards the end
Summary: Y/n faces unexpected turmoil as she discovers that her new collaboration partner in the office is none other than Kim Mingyu, a figure from her college past associated with painful rumors. As they navigate their professional collaboration, Mingyu's persistent attempts to break through Y/n's guarded demeanor unravel a history of misunderstandings and hurtful rumors.
Warnings: slow burn-ish, reader is bullied in college, puckering of lips against each other, let me know if I missed anything
Word Count: ~3k
My main masterlist
A/N: Happy Carat's Day! This is my first ever fic and I am not sure how this will go. This story is just an idea that has been in my drafts for ages. I hope you like it! Cross-posting it here cause my other account is pretty new and this is not showing up in search results
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The harsh hum of the photocopier and the distant murmur of office life formed the backdrop as I stared at my screen, which had just received a notification of an email. The subject line sent a ripple of anticipation through me: "Collaboration Partner Assignment."
Opening the email, my eyes quickly scanned the details. I braced myself for the revelation, but nothing could have prepared me for the name that leaped off the screen – Kim Mingyu. My stomach churned, though I couldn't pinpoint why. Maybe it was the mounting pressure of the project or the unfamiliarity of working with someone from another company. A wave of discomfort washed over me as memories of college days resurfaced, memories I had long buried because of the same name! But it couldn’t be him, right?
I had hoped to leave the shadows of the past behind, but fate had different plans. Mingyu, a name that had once been sY/nonymous with popularity and my own insecurities, was now set to become an integral part of my professional life.
Navigating the familiar hallways towards the designated meeting room, my steps carried the weight of unspoken history. The door creaked open, revealing Mingyu already seated, his eyes lifting from a set of project documents to meet mine. A knowing smile played on his lips, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within me. It was him, Kim Mingyu!
"Y/n, right?" he said, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Mingyu. Looks like we're going to be partners on this project."
I hesitated for a moment before accepting the handshake. "Yes, Y/n. Nice to meet you."
The sterile hum of the office's fluorescent lights set the stage for a reunion neither of us had anticipated. Mingyu, a name echoing through the corridors of my past, now sat across from me in a conference room. His smile seemed to mock my silent discomfort, reminiscent of college days where he effortlessly commanded popularity, and I existed on the fringes.
"Ready to dive into this project together?" Mingyu's voice snapped me back to the present, his expression oblivious to the tumult of memories that threatened to overwhelm me.
"Sure," I replied, my voice masking the unease within. The corporate battleground was familiar, but the arrival of Mingyu resurrected a dormant storm.
As we settled into the collaborative routine, Mingyu's attempts to get to know me became increasingly apparent. In team meetings, he'd throw casual questions my way, trying to unearth the person behind the professional facade.
"So, Y/n, any exciting plans for the weekend?" he'd ask, a playful twinkle in his eye.
"Same as always," I'd reply, nonchalant. I wasn't one to divulge personal details easily.
But Mingyu was persistent, undeterred by my guarded responses. "Come on, Y/n, there must be something you enjoy doing outside of work. Hobbies? Interests?"
His inquiry probed deeper than the surface, seeking to unravel the layers I had meticulously wrapped around myself. "Not really," I'd brush off, maintaining a stoic demeanour.
In the break room, he'd invite me to join him for a coffee, hoping to chip away at the walls I'd built. "Coffee break, Y/n? It's on me," he'd offer, a friendly smile playing on his lips.
"Thanks, but I prefer working through breaks," I'd decline, my gaze fixed on the computer screen.
Mingyu, always the optimist, remained undeterred by my cool demeanour. "Alright, next time then," he'd say, masking any disappointment that might have lingered beneath the surface.
Our interactions, or lack thereof, became a dance of casual questions met with guarded replies. It wasn't that I didn't notice Mingyu's efforts – I did. The truth was, I had carefully crafted my isolation, and I wasn't eager to let anyone in.
One day, as we reviewed project details, Mingyu tried a different approach. "Y/n, we make a good team, you know? But it would be even better if we understood each other a bit more. What do you say?"
His words held a sincerity that caught me off guard. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his eyes or the genuine desire to bridge the gap. I sighed, relenting just a bit. "Look, Mingyu, it's nothing personal. I'm just here to get the job done."
He nodded, understanding but undeterred. "Fair enough, Y/n. I respect that. Just know, I'm here if you ever want to talk."
The unspoken hurt lingered beneath the surface, but Mingyu never let it show. His attempts to befriend me continued, even if they were met with my persistent nonchalance.
In another attempt to connect, he invited me to a team dinner. "Y/n, we've been working together for a while now. Let's celebrate our progress. What do you say?"
I hesitated, then finally relented, "Fine, but just for a little while."
As the evening unfolded, I found myself in an unexpected situation – Mingyu's infectious charm gradually wearing down my defences. We laughed, shared stories, and for a brief moment, the professional barriers faded.
In the midst of the camaraderie, Mingyu leaned in and said, "See, Y/n? We're not that different after all."
I couldn't help but smile, the walls I had so carefully constructed showing signs of cracking. Mingyu's efforts were slowly paying off, breaking through the layers that shielded me from the world.
As we left the restaurant that night, I couldn't deny the shift in dynamics. Mingyu, once an unwelcome intruder from the past, had become a persistent presence in my present – a presence I was starting to appreciate, even if I wasn't quite ready to admit it.
The echoes of our team dinner lingered in the air as Mingyu and I left the restaurant. Laughter and camaraderie had briefly bridged the gap, but as we stepped back into the office building, I retreated into my familiar shell. The nonchalant exterior was my armour, and I wore it with practised ease.
Days passed, and Mingyu's efforts to break through my walls persisted, but my responses remained unchanged – short, guarded, and distant. The unspoken hurt beneath his eyes grew more evident with each interaction, until one day, frustration etched across his face.
As I sat at my desk, engrossed in my work, Mingyu approached, a determined expression on his face. "Y/n, we need to talk. Meet me in the meeting room in fifteen minutes," he said, his voice carrying a firmness I hadn't heard before.
I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "Sure, whatever," I replied, my tone as indifferent as ever.
The meeting room, a neutral ground for professional discussions, now became the stage for an unexpected confrontation. As I entered, Mingyu was already there, his arms crossed, and a look of frustration etched across his features.
"What's your deal, Y/n?" he began, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and hurt. "I've been trying to get to know you, to be a good teammate, but every attempt is met with this... this wall you've built. What are you so afraid of?"
I sighed, my nonchalant facade momentarily faltering. "Mingyu, I'm not afraid of anything. I'm just here to work, not make friends."
His frustration bubbled to the surface. "You don't have to make it so difficult, Y/n. We're part of the same team, working towards the same goal. Why can't we at least get along?"
I leaned back in my chair, the familiar defences back in place. "Getting along is not a requirement for getting the job done."
Mingyu's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disappointment. "It's not just about the job, Y/n. We spend a significant portion of our lives working together. Why make it miserable for both of us?"
His words struck a chord, a brief pang of guilt flickering within me. But I couldn't let him see it. "Mingyu, I have my reasons for keeping things professional. Let's just focus on the project and leave it at that."
He leaned in, his frustration giving way to a determination that mirrored the spark in his eyes. "Fine, Y/n. If that's how you want it, we'll keep it strictly professional. But know that it doesn't have to be this way."
Mingyu's proposal hung in the air, and for a moment, I considered the possibility of a truce – a ceasefire in the silent war that had defined our collaboration. The weight of his words pressed upon me, and I decided to break the stoic facade, if only for a moment.
"Fine," I responded, my tone betraying a hint of resignation. "Let's keep it professional."
As the days passed, our interactions adhered to the newfound agreement. Work discussions unfolded without the previous tension, and the strained atmosphere began to ease. However, beneath the surface, the unspoken distance lingered, a reminder of the unresolved history that bound us.
Late one evening, as the office lights flickered in the waning hours, Mingyu and I found ourselves alone in the workspace. The hum of computers and distant traffic outside seemed to amplify the silence between us. Mingyu broke the quiet, his voice softer than before.
"Y/n, there's something I need to know. The tension between us... is it just about work, or is there something more?" His gaze bore into mine, a silent plea for honesty.
I hesitated, contemplating whether to unravel the layers that guarded my past. In that moment, I decided to breach the unspoken barrier. "It's not just about work, Mingyu. There's history – a rumour that tainted my college years, and I believed you were behind it."
His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and realisation flickering across his features. "Rumour? What rumour are you talking about?"
College, a realm of possibilities, unfolded before me. Amid vibrant campus life, I preferred solitude, finding solace in the quiet corners of the library. My routine, a sanctuary, was disrupted when a rumor about me and Mingyu, the campus heartthrob, began to circulate.
Whispers painted a false picture – a rejected proposal, a scornful comment. The rumor, like wildfire, labeled me as the girl who dared to confess, only to face ridicule. My once-unnoticed existence transformed into isolation as judgmental gazes and hurtful labels became my companions.
The most painful aspect was the misunderstanding – the lie that branded me a loner, rejected and ridiculed. The library, my refuge, now felt like a glass house, the rumor exposing me to the harsh scrutiny of others.
Mingyu, oblivious to the storm, continued his life, while I bore the weight of fabricated rejection. The rumor, a dark shadow, cast a long-lasting mark on my college experience. The isolation, self-imposed or not, became my reality.
"The one where it was said I proposed to you in college, and you rejected me, saying you'd never date a loner like me," I confessed, my voice holding the weight of years of perceived betrayal.
Mingyu's expression shifted from surprise to understanding, a furrow forming on his brow. "Y/n, I never spread that rumor. In fact, I had no idea it existed until now. In fact, I wanted to be friends with you back then and expressed it to some of my friends!"
My defenses faltered as the revelation sank in. The narrative I had carried for years, the resentment that fueled our strained collaboration, crumbled like a fragile facade. "But... why would someone spread such a thing?"
Mingyu's eyes softened with sincerity. "I don't know, Y/n. But I promise you, it wasn't me. I regret that you went through that, and I wish I could've been there to clarify things."
The weight of the misunderstanding hung heavy in the room. Mingyu's admission brought forth a vulnerability I hadn't expected, and the unspoken tension that defined our collaboration began to unravel. As we navigate the murky waters of our shared history, the silence transformed into a hesitant dialogue.
"Maybe," he began, choosing his words carefully, "we can move past this together. Start anew, without the burden of misunderstandings."
In the quiet office, Mingyu and I shared a moment where words seemed unnecessary. His hand found mine, a gentle intertwining of fingers that spoke volumes. Leaning in, he kissed me with a tenderness that felt like an unspoken apology.
The kiss was slow, each movement deliberate, as if time itself had slowed down. Mingyu's lips met mine in a dance of connection, a soft exploration that conveyed a shared understanding. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a promise – a promise to let go of the past and embrace the possibility of something new.
As our lips lingered in the gentle exchange, the weight of misunderstandings lifted. Mingyu's touch, comforting and sincere, became a bridge that spanned the distance between us.
The air shifted after the shared kiss, the unspoken tension replaced by a newfound understanding. Mingyu, eyes reflecting a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity, gently pulled away, creating a space for words to bridge the lingering gap.
"Y/n," he began, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments, "there's something I'd like to propose."
I met his gaze, a silent invitation to continue.
"How about we take a step into the present? Leave the office behind for a while, just you and me. What do you say to a dinner? A date, maybe?" Mingyu's words hung in the air, a simple yet profound invitation.
The corners of my lips twitched into a hesitant smile, the remnants of the emotional whirlwind we had just weathered. "A date?" I echoed, the word carrying a hint of both surprise and curiosity.
Mingyu nodded, his eyes holding a hopeful gleam. "Yes, a date. No work, no misunderstandings – just two people sharing a meal and getting to know each other beyond the confines of the office."
The idea, once foreign, now seemed like a welcome proposition. A chance to rewrite the script, explore the uncharted territories of this evolving connection. "I suppose a dinner sounds nice," I conceded, the tension replaced by a sense of openness.
His face broke into a radiant smile, the lines of relief and excitement mingling. "Great! How about tomorrow night? I know a place not far from here. Casual, nothing too fancy. What do you think?"
Tomorrow night – a prospect that carried the promise of a fresh beginning. I found myself nodding, the corners of my own lips forming a genuine smile. "Tomorrow night sounds good."
Mingyu's joy was palpable, and as he pulled out his phone to exchange details, the office surroundings seemed to fade into the background. In the quiet aftermath of a shared kiss, the invitation extended marked a turning point – a step away from the weight of the past and into the possibilities of the present.
As we finalised the plans, Mingyu's gaze held a promise – a promise of a date that transcended the ordinary, a date that hinted at the potential for something more. The unspoken tension that had defined our collaboration was replaced by the anticipation of a shared meal, laughter, and the uncharted journey that lay ahead.
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iraprince · 5 months
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i have what is probably a really obscure question - back in the day when 8tracks was a thing, there was a sweat (acid soup) mix that i THINK you made + posted, with a cover of LOVEFOOL. i'm trying to find that particular cover of LOVEFOOL. do you know which it was?
okay so this has driven me CRAZY bc i REMEMBER what ur talking about, but i cannot find it at all. i tried to do some basic sleuthing, like poking around searching at my twitter and stuff, but all i find from then is 1. scattered evidence of a few ppl being like "ira what the hell is this demonic cover of lovefool" and 2. me gloating about how i only found said demonic cover of lovefool through like a 45 minute google rabbit hole. not helpful, past ira. also, i must have downloaded it at some point to upload it to 8tracks, but that would have been like, two laptops ago and there's no way i can dig up the file.
anyway i got a bit closer by digging a little more -- i have this kind of hazy memory of literally just typing in something like "cool lovefool cover" and trawling list articles, and when i tried to recreate it i found this meanspirited little vice piece with a description that i am like, 99.9999% SURE IS REFERENCING THE VERSION WE'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!!! ...but unfortunately bc it's from 2012, all the embeds are gone/broken (and as far as i can tell there's no remnants of links even when i inspect the page, tho i'm not very tech literate when it comes to stuff like this so maybe i'm missing something):
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and as we can see here, even back then, if this was the cover we're thinking of, it wasn't attributed or traceable. but we do glean a LITTLE info from this: "under six minutes" means it was five and change, and it must have been uploaded to soundcloud at least 11 years ago.
i tried trawling thru soundcloud w those parameters in mind but couldn't find it... unfortunately i think there's a high chance the original account that uploaded it doesn't exist anymore. (i may have missed something, like maybe a different account has re-uploaded it and i scrolled past it bc i was looking at upload date, but expanding the search to any year is something i don't have the bandwidth for rn!!)
this might be a workable amount of info to at least go to reddit or something with? i feel like there must be at least one subreddit that's specifically dedicated to "help me find this obscure soundcloud remix that got deleted." but for now i'm afraid i must admit defeat, which sucks bc now that you've reminded me of it *i* really wanna listen to the decade-old demonic cover of lovefool too :')
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thatbadadvice · 2 years
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Help! Is my friend going to be all pissy that I lost his cat?
Miss Manners, Washington Post, 28 November 2022:
Dear Miss Manners: A friend of mine is staying with me, and he went home for Thanksgiving, leaving his cat here. Well, I woke up the first morning after he left, and the cat is gone.
It is common for us to leave the doors open during the day, but the cat has never run off until now. So what do I do? Do I call my friend and tell him over the phone? Or do I wait till he gets back, hoping the cat will return in the meantime? But if the cat doesn’t return, will he be hurt that I didn’t inform him right away?
What a shock it must have been to discover that leaving the doors of your house wide open resulted in a cat vacating the premises! Such a bizarre, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence could never have been predicted! Consider reaching out to Ripley's to see if they are interested in this surreal and freakish incident.
But to the heart of your question: it's difficult to say whether any given person would give a single solitary fuck if their pet fell off the face of the earth. Everyone is so different! Sure, a few folks might want to know that their beloved companion has been lost, but the vast majority are probably just going to be like, meh, win some, literally lose some -- hence your harrowing conundrum about whether this man deserves to know whether his cat is safe in the care of the person entrusted with such! A handful of people would want to know about and participate in the search for a lost pet, but a lot of people probably forget they even have a cat once it leaves their direct line of sight! It's entirely possible, even more likely, that your friend is just this kind of person!
And yet, what if there is the tiny, minuscule, almost unfathomable chance that your friend cares whether his cat lives or dies? It's already truly bizarre that this feline hit the bricks after finding every available escape route labeled with a neon sign saying "take me," so it's hard to imagine the universe handing you something as doubly strange as your friend giving the barest shit about his errant pet.
The best course of action is to keep everything to yourself, forever, to avoid having one awkward conversation. On the off chance your friend expresses concern about his cat's whereabouts, simply place his belongings on the curb. Act as if you have never met him and never heard of his cat. Problem solved.
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epicbuddieficrecs · 22 days
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Weekly Recap | May 12th-19th 2024
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Had a wonderful long weekend with a friend, what about you guys? Anyone else super nervous about this week's episode? 😅
Complete
all roads lead to eddie diaz by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (S7, BuckTommy, Pre-Buddie | 1,2K | General): eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.
another thing i forced to be a sign by bellabrady (Post-7x07: Ghost of a Second Chance | 2K | Not Rated): Or: Buck finds out about Kim, which leads to him calling Eddie out on the pattern with relationships.
🔥 I hang on every word you say by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “I couldn’t help but notice how hesitant you’ve been about getting back onto the dating scene despite saying that you’re ready,” Buck said, going for nonchalant and likely missing it by the mile. “I figured a little boost in confidence and a crash course in how to pull off a perfect first date wouldn’t hurt.” Or, the one in which Buck assumes Eddie sucks at dating and decides to do something about it
just release me, i can't take it by actualalligator/ @actualalligator (Post-Lawsuit | 5K | General): After the fight in the grocery store, Buck withdraws the lawsuit and leaves town. Maybe for good.
i'll look after you by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Buck&Chris | 6K | Teen): “You don’t have to kiss it, Mads,” he started telling her around ten years old. Maddie would ruffle his hair and scoff. “Of course I do, punk. How else will it seal the deal?” It was the only comfort he knew. It’s also the only tradition he can pass down to Chris. or: buck and chris building their own set of traditions throughout the years
how forever feels by icesculptures/ @ice-sculptures (Madney Wedding AU, Getting Together | 8K | General): Or: tired of the growing distance between them, Eddie asks Buck to dance at Maddie and Chimney's wedding, healing more than his own heart along the way.
🔥 Cowboy With a One Track Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergence, Not A Firefighter Buck | 22K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 7 (Land): Grieving and tortured, Evan Buckley has been living alone in Montana in a remote cabin for nearly a decade. After an incident that leaves him missing six months of his life, and suddenly in connection with a group of strangers from Los Angeles, Evan must decide whether to remain in his self-imposed exile, or take a chance at life again.
WIP
🔥 some things fall when they're meant to fall by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Post S7E5 | 2/4 | 11K | Teen): or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.
What’s Your Order? by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S7E5, BuckTommy | 5/6 | 14K | Teen): 5 Times Buck Guessed Tommy’s Coffee Order + 1 Time He Didn’t Have To
🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 5/10 | 39K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?
🔥 change the prophecy by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Timeline, Curse/Magic | 11/12 | 26K |��Mature): Buck has never felt secure in any of his relationships; he’s been searching for someone to see him the way he feels he’s meant to be seen, but after things start going downhill with Tommy, he thinks that person might just not exist. Eddie cannot figure out what’s wrong with him when it becomes clear things with Marisol aren’t going to work out. But what if they’re both forgetting something?
🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 15/? | 126K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.
🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 2/? | 10K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.
🔥 Steal My Sunshine by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Altered Memories | 5/9 | 15K | Mature): Memories hazy and unreliable, Eddie Diaz wakes up every morning in a house at the end of a cul de sac, goes to his office job at a petroleum engineering company, and comes home to his wife and son. But something is missing, and the more Eddie begins to put the pieces together, the stranger the predicament he finds himself in. 
Podfic
🔥 [Podfic] maybe i'll be brave enough by then by Silverkat1620/ @silverkat1620 // fic by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Amnesia | 20-30min | Teen): “So,” Eddie starts, taking a long sip. “How long have I had the ring?” Hen chokes on her coffee. “I’m sorry,” she says, eyes wide behind her glasses. “What ring?” or: an amnesia au (with a twist).
🔥 [Podfic] Fire on Fire by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie for extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Quarantine, S4 | 30-45min | Teen): "You’re sleeping with him.” “I’m not—” Eddie rolls his eyes and corrects himself halfway through. “I’m not sleeping with him like that, okay?” Sophia looks at him for a long moment as her gaze turns from teasing to thoughtful. “But you want to be. Right?” [Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.]
🔥 [Podfic] Here, Beneath My Lungs by Itty_Bitty_Blondie for glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (First Kiss | 5K | Teen): “Okay, okay, come on, let’s do this,” Buck says, in a trying-to-be-serious tone that just sets Eddie off again. “Come on, we’re gonna do this right. You need the full Buckley Experience.” “Someone’s confident,” Eddie manages. “I know what I’m good at,” Buck says, and something about the way he says it—grinning and smug with laughter still leaking out of the edges of his smile—makes Eddie go still.
🔥 [podfic] not all of us are heroes (not all of us are brave) by Matriaya // fic by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 45-60min | General): Buck shakes his head and grimaces apologetically at Marisol. "I'm so sorry for interrupting your night," he tells her. "I'm gonna leave you guys to it, but it was nice to see you again." "Nice to see you too," Marisol replies with a smile. "Sorry again," he addresses this one to Eddie. "I didn't think. I just—" "You thought Chris needed you," Eddie says softly, eyes so warm Buck wants to stay here forever. "Don't apologise for that." "Right, well." Buck takes a deep breath to calm his still pounding heart before saluting at Christopher. "Forever at your service, Superman." He backs out of the kitchen in an exaggerated bow, ducking to hide his smile when Christopher's laugh follows him out.
🔥 [podfic] brick by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie // fic by spqr (Post-Coma, S6, Getting Together | 1-1.5h | Explicit): The first thing Buck noticed when he walked through the door was the smell of plaster and wet paint. There was a white spot on the wall in the living room, primered but without any color yet, about the size of a man’s fist. Eddie looked sheepish. His knuckles were still bruised, scabbed over but healing. “You were in a coma,” was all he said. “Yeah,” Buck agreed. He knew the feeling.
🔥 [Podfic] I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for extasiswings/ @extasiswings , letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (S2-3, Friends With Benefits, BDSM | 7-10h | Explicit): When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea. Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right? There's no way this could possibly go wrong.
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frost-queen · 7 months
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Sibling's sport (Teen!Reader & Glenn Rhee ft. Maggie)
Requested by: anon ,Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn
Summary: You are Maggie's teen sister. One day you ran away from Alexandria to explore. When coming face to face with Glenn you nearly shoot him, thinking he was a walker. When Glenn starts scolding you, you call him an asshole as he can't help it but comment back to it. Bickering and toying around like siblings all the way back to Alexandria where Maggie has the laugh of her life, upon seeing you and Glenn.
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A window slit open in the morning glow. The sudden sound sending a flock of birds flying that had been nestling on the roof for a morning rest. A backpack got send through, falling with a thud on the grass. Then a foot, up to a leg and half a posture. Grabbing onto the top of the window, you kept your balance. Sticking your other leg out to join them together. Setting your hands down you changed position. Slowly lowering yourself to decrease the fall height. Arms stretched out holding on to the railing, you let do, falling down. You landed down on the grass beside your backpack.
Gravity having pushed you down and knocked you off balance down below. Getting half up, you dragged your backpack closer to you over the grass. With one sweep it was over your shoulder. Set and ready, you took a run for it. Alexandria as quiet as ever. Everyone still fast asleep. You went towards the back avoiding being spotted by Daryl, who was sometimes an early bird too. If he saw you, he’d question where you would be going. He’d either tell your sister Maggie or decide to tag along. You liked Daryl but this was something you loved doing on your own.
Running up to the fence, you started to follow it down the line. Searching for that spot to easily get over it. There it was. You smiled in delight running up to it. All was left to do was climb over it. Seeing the garbage can nearby, you dragged it closer to the fence. Crawling on top of it, you got over the fence, landing down, sinking to your knees once over. Dusting your hands off, you started to run for it. Leaving Alexandria for what it was to explore. You kept running till you got to a clearing. Slowing down. You pulled out your knife, keeping it close for when you needed to use it.
Nearing the danger zone. The woods were a dangerous place for walkers to roam. Easily for them to sneak up on you and catch you by surprise. In the distance you spotted a walker walking mindlessly, their head slightly tilted to the side, close to their shoulder. They were far enough to not see you. Without making any sounds, you kept a close eye on them, going a different way. They got out of sight as you neared a creak. Taking a leap. Jumping over flawlessly. The sudden sound of walker’s snarling caught your attention.
Turning your head instantly out of instinct, you exhaled loud. The tension slowly leaving your stiff posture. Not far from you was a walker tangled up between some wires. Their legs dangling in the cold water. You walked over to it holding your knife out. It began to snarl louder and squirm in your presence. Wanting to have a bite as it hungered for it. Kneeling down you grabbed a hold of it’s head. Their jaw violently snapping your way. A few teeth already missing. – “I give you mercy.” – you whispered before jamming your knife deep down it’s skull.
It pierced easily through the skull as the walker went silent. Jaw hanging loose as you retracted your knife from it. The blood on it dark and smelly. Their brain must have been rotten for a while now. Getting back up, you continued your way. Finding peace in solitude. After a while you looked up. Seeing how the sky was pure blue. Not a cloud in sight. You thought back of Alexandria and how everyone must have already woken up.
Shaking your head you didn’t want to think longer about them. The trees cleared way, fewer trees standing tall as you neared a small town. Mushy leaves made way for hard streets. Cars parked carelessly around. You rounded a car leaping back when a walker thudded their head against the glass. Aware of your sudden presence. They kept bumping their head against the thick glass, hands gripping wildly before them, held back by the belt. You backed away. Walking in the middle of the road to avoid the cars.
Who knew what was hiding behind them or in them. You went over to a convenience store. The windows dusted, some broken. Nearing the broken window, you took a peek inside. Not seeing anything at first sight. Kneeling down you removed your backpack. Unzipping it to search it. Taking out a pebble, you moved your backpack over your shoulder again. Throwing the pebble through the broken window you heard it clatter against the ground. Waiting and watching carefully for any walkers. Whispering the counts till you rounded at thirty and still nothing had surprised you.
Finding it secure enough you broke the window more to crawl inside. With a thud you landed on your feet, broken glass underneath your boots. Moving your backpack to the front, you kept it open to stuff useful supplies in it. The first shelves were empty. Plundered. You went down each row looking for something useful. By the middle you found some interesting things. For some reason a wooden spoon. You bagged it, thinking Carol could find use for it. Some canned food that still looked worth consuming. Further down the back you found a dusted bunny.
Already missing an eye and a rip in the side where the filling was coming out a bit. You thought off Judy and how she would loved it. There must be some needles and thread back at Alexandria to patch it up for her. You carefully pushed some filling back into the bunny before putting it in your backpack. There was some more canned food and some dry snacks. You also took every medicine you came across. Who knew when you needed it. Going back outside you looked around the deserted town. Something about this silence making you feel small yet grand as well. You went to sit on the hood of a car, taking out a snack.
The city’s was yours. An overwhelming loneliness. Time seemingly standing still as everything around it began to dust. The glory of the town long gone. Now but a shimmer of it’s former glory. Something in the distance made you narrow your eyes. A walker dragging her feet between some cars. You set your snack aside taking out your gun. Pointing it at firm at her. Deciding whether to shoot her in the head from up here. The shot could alarm others. Sighing loud you knew you had to get up and knife her. She disappeared behind some cars out of vision as you waited for her to reappear again.
Yet she didn’t. You kept waiting finding it odd you hadn’t seen her walk by. She must have. It started to alarm you that you hadn’t seen her walk past. Grabbing your things, you jumped off the hood. Gun in the ready you went over to the car. Wanting to see for yourself what happened. Did she find someone to feed on? Did she get stuck. Trip? Got killed? A thousand alarm sirens were going off in your head. Slightly frightening you. Holding your gun out, you neared the car. Going round you expected to find her. There was no one. Till you spotted her on the ground. Blood staining the street as she’s been stabbed in the head. It meant someone was out here with you.
Having a sudden sense, you spun around ready to shoot. Glenn shot his hands up at the sight of your gun pointing at him. – “Glenn!” – you called out. – “Are you insane I could’ve killed you!” – you lowered your gun. – “What the hell are you doing here by yourself?” – he shouted back lowering his hands. – “It’s dangerous to go out on your own. What were you thinking. You could’ve blown my head off with how jumpy you are!” – He called out. – “Then don’t sneak up on people asshole!” – you replied angered that he was threating you like a little child. – “Wow.” – Glenn breathed out with half a smile.
“I’m the asshole when you’re the one who pointed a gun at me.” – he answered. You rolled with your eyes, putting your gun away. – “Hey! Did you just roll your eyes at me!” – Glenn shouted as you walked away from him. His cheeks bloated with frustration that you’d just walk away carelessly. – “Y/n!” – Glenn said coming after you. – “Maggie was worried sick.” – he called out trying to catch up with you. You blabbed some annoying words out, using your hand to show him he was nagging. Glenn came to your side blabbering mockingly at you. It made you look bothered at him. – “How mature.” – you told him. – “I’m just mimicking you.” – he teased back with a sneer.
“You want an applause for that?” – you replied sarcastically. Glenn laughed annoyingly to let you know he found you ridiculous. You slapped him annoyed against his shoulder. Glenn narrowed his glare slapping you right back. It only angered you more as you slapped him right back against his shoulder. Glenn slapped you back as well. – “I can do this all day!” – he told you. – “So can I!” – you answered giving him a slap against the back of his head.
Nothing too hard, just a playful slap. Glenn and you were making your way back to Alexandria as he moved his leg up to bump it against your bottom. It made you stumble a bit forwards. As a response you gave him a nudge. Glenn nudged you right back. You wanted to nudge him back as Glenn’s expression hardened. He grabbed you by your wrist, pulling you closer to him. You stumbled forwards, lowering your head a bit when he moved his gun over your head. Firing twice to send a walker down. – “I could’ve gotten it.” – you told him. Glenn laughed loud. – “I didn’t know you had eyes on the back of your head.”
“Didn’t you know Glenny I do.” – you had crossed your arms, throwing him a teasing smile. – “Then I suppose you see this coming.” – he spoke tapping the back of your head. – “Hey!” – you called out as he took a run for it. You started to run after him. You wanted to push him as he grabbed your hands keeping you on a distance. – “Not close enough.” – he responded pushing you away. He jogged away as you went after him.
He darted away from your attempts to push him. Like a cat and a mouse playing around. The two of you neared the gates of Alexandria still playing around. Bickering and toying around like siblings would do. Maggie was waiting at the gate’s seeing Glenn give you a little nudge. It made you stumble a bit to the side as you nudged him right back. Maggie smiling at how she saw the two of you get along. Laughing as it reminded her of when they were younger and teasing each other.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  
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v3nusxsky · 11 months
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Can you do a, Wandanat X Agere fem reader?
Maybe reader djdnt want to regress, due to the amount of missions they were getting, and she accidently messes up in a mission and Fury yells at her for it, and she regressed in her room later that night, and Wanda and Natasha find her? And reader has thus toy dog she loses snd they have to find it to calm her down?? Fluff after that.
Agere, fluff, hurt, and comfort. I believe that's what you requested.
If not, no problem, I love all your writing!!!
Sorry if it's really specific, I'm nervous when it comes to requesting
Sun,moon and stars
*Authors note~ long time no see guys! I've missed posting. Been a little scared to start back up bc of the hate and my accident really threw me for a while but here we go. Thanks to the support of my friends and my lovely girlfriend @just-your-casual-nerd I’m going to be starting with Agere for the pure reason it's less taxing on my body and brain. Smut angst etc will come when I'm a little better*
Trigger warnings~ regression little r mama and momma wandanat loss of comfort item angry fury? Sight angry Nat?
Prompt~see ask^^^^^
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The past few weeks had really been insane for you, you were either on missions or filling out the paperwork from your previous missions. You'd hardly seen your girlfriends due to this, which meant the idea of allowing yourself to regress was definitely out the window. You couldn't afford to mess up the missions, exposing your secret to the team. A lot of the time it was truly hard to admit you coped this way, but Wanda and Nat seemed to love helping you through it. Not everyone is accepting of it though, you learnt that very early on in your life. Perhaps that's why you felt the need to hide.
After a recent mission with Steve, Tony and Peter you were all on the way back to the compound when Steve told you. Fury wanted to see you immediately upon landing. You instantly knew why, your gaze flickering over to Peter who was cradling his arm. It was an accident really, you didn't mean to. Your brain blanking at the wrong time allowing one of the Hydra guards to twist Peters arm painfully. His cries of pain clearing the fog that littered your brain when you needed to slip. You'd apologised time and time again to Peter and he reassured you he wasn't mad. But no matter how much he said it you knew you'd messed up. The reason he would be taken to med bay was because you weren't strong enough to stay big. Guilt eating away at you, you weren't sure how much worse Fury could make you feel.
Apparently it could get worse, the guilt eating away at you as Fury laid into you about how reckless you were, your behaviour resulting in Peters injuries meant you were suspended from the field. His exact wording was something like "till we can figure out how to fix you!" You did your best to stay silent and remain strong, crying was not something you wished to do in front of him. You don't need fixing just a break really but you knew better than to respond like that, instead opting to flee his office and head to the safety of your shared room before breaking down.
You'd missed dinner, that was why Wanda and Natasha began searching for you. They knew the mission didn't go as well as wanted so they figured you'd want space to process like normal, but you never missed dinner. You love wanda's cooking too much for that. After checking your usual spots, they headed to your room. There you were curled up with dried tear strains on your cheeks, the room around you trashed to high hell. Clearly, you were looking for something but what would you be looking for badly enough to do this? "Nat, she's" Wanda trailed off as your thoughts were loud, "Little." Now everything made so much sense. You were looking for Pup Pup.
You must have regressed alone and being unable to find your beloved pup pup, you'd cried yourself to sleep. It was truly heartbreaking to see, as your caregivers, you hadn't found one of them and were alone in such a vulnerable mind set. Your whimpers as tears began to fall again worried Wanda enough to check on your dream. Only where she would witness you reliving how Fury shouted at you, saying you needed to be fixed. Your whole body shook with the second hand fear from the dream. Both girls knew you didn't like being shouted at or anything that was loud.
"Nat, Fury, he ripped into her about Peter" Wanda whispered before going to kneel next to your body. Her hand finding your cheeks as she brushed your tears away mumbling words of comfort, "it's okay dekta (baby) momma is here." The red head assassin gave Wanda a quick nod before exiting to find Fury. She wasn't having you being treated like this when they'd been overworking you and in general ignoring your own well-being. This wouldn't ever happen again because Natasha would make sure of it.
"Momma?" You sleepily sobbed before throwing yourself into her awaiting arms, "founds me!" You cried causing her heart to shatter slightly. "That's right my darling. I have you now. Why are we sad love bug?" It was adorable how your brows joined and you scrunched your nose up in thought, "Pup Pup gones!" You gasped as if you'd only just realised that Pup Pup was missing now. You appeared to be regressed a lot smaller than you normally would. The girls were use to you regressing to about five years old, but based of this interaction Wanda guessed you were about two to three years old. "We will find your Pup Pup bug."
"Mama!" You pouted noticing her absence. "Shh love bug mana is just finishing up with work and she'll be here, how bout you and momma go on a hunt for Pup Pup?" Wandas soothing tone and her redirection to your beloved Pup Pup. Hand in hand you and Wanda set out to find the ragged looking stuffie that you'd had since you were found by Hydra. The only thing they'd let you keep at a price and you cherished it. It didn't take long for your little brain to become overwhelmed and frustrated at your inability to find the stuffie.
"Momma! No finds! Gones! Want mama! I sorry I be good give Pup Pup me now?" You sobbed clumsily clinging to her as you cried for you two lost loves. "You are good my love bug, so so good. We are gonna find your Pup Pup I promise." She hushed you as the bedroom door opened and a very satisfied Natasha came into the room. "моя маленькая принцесса (my little princess) look who mama found малыш (baby)" her sing song voice caught your attention as you knew it was only for you. "Pup Pup!!" You cried happily coming to hold the stuffie, "frank you mama!"
"You're so welcome дорогой (darling), shall we all go get a snack baby?" You nodded enthusiastically until you remembered Fury's words, "Nahuh mama" you mumbled sadly, "I'm bad, no eat when bad." This time both women came to your side and showered you with reassurance and love that you were not bad. And Peter wasn't mad at you. Fury was in the wrong to go off at you like that and you were safe with them. They wouldn't let any harm come yo you. In fact you could eat in the bedroom cuddled up together. They just wanted to care for you, so you eventually relented, your little brain not holding much room to fight so you happily settled into bed snuggling up to Natasha's chest while you waited for Wanda to return with food. Before Wanda could even return you'd passed out on Nat, Natasha looking at you with such a loving gaze Wanda felt truly too blessed to be witnessing it. Truly you deserved the sun, moon and the stars, and both women wanted to give you all that and more.
Word count~ 1354
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proxima-writes · 11 months
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seven - a joel miller story
pairing: post-outbreak jackson!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 5k
summary:
Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why
Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.
author's note:
another work for the folklore anthology! i'd really love to hear your thoughts on this one, so please drop a comment or slide into my inbox if you're so inclined.
content warnings/tags:
explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, ANGST, themes of grief and loss, feelings of guilt, discussions of child loss and sibling loss (unnamed brother of reader), descriptions of panic attacks, nightmares, alcohol use, unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering, pet names, a reference to the harry potter series. let me know if any are missing!
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“Look at me, daddy!” 
Joel watches as Sarah pumps her legs, soaring high into the cloudless blue sky. He has to shield his eyes against the painfully bright sun. He smiles as she laughs, the sound blanketing him in joy.
As she swings down back towards the ground, Joel hears a panicked shout. He turns, a man running toward him over the hill, arms waving. He can’t hear what the man is saying, he’s too far away.
A shot rings out and the man drops to the ground in a heap of limbs. Joel can see a line of soldiers, guns trained toward him.
“Sarah, we have to go!” He shouts, turning back to the swing set. The swing is empty. He searches frantically for his daughter but the little girl is nowhere to be found. “Sarah!”
He’s running, putting space between him and the soldiers. He begs and prays to a God he’s always had trouble believing in that he finds his baby.
He sees her, finally. She’s standing in the middle of a field, her back to him. It’s dark now, he’s not sure when that happened. 
“Sarah! Sarah, we gotta go, come on, baby,” he shouts. She turns, slowly, her arm braced around her stomach and a horrified expression on her face. Joel drops to his knees in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
She lowers her arm, bright red blood smeared on her tan skin and a blossoming stain on her shirt. Her voice shakes as she whispers, “Daddy?”
Joel wakes with a shout, sitting up in bed as he struggles to catch his breath. His sweat damp skin erupts with goosebumps in the cold air of his bedroom. He presses a hand to his chest, the tight grip of panic around his heart easing incrementally as he fights for breath.
The brief glimpse of darkness between the curtains covering the window tells him it’s still early and a glance at the clock on the nightstand confirms as much. He groans, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. The floor is frigid against his bare feet and he shivers with the unexpected chill. 
In the kitchen, he makes himself coffee before slipping his leather jacket on and heading to the back porch. The dark sky has lightened the slightest bit, the encroaching dawn painting the inky sky a faded purple as the sun creeps up from its slumber. 
From his porch, Joel can see one of the side entrances to the cemetery. He watches as a figure emerges from beyond the concrete walls and it takes him a moment to realize it’s just you again.
You, the curious woman that runs the town library. He’s seen you on other occasions like this morning, where he’s trying to shake off the remaining webs of discomfort that have been spun in his mind. You shut the wrought iron gate and like you can feel his gaze on you, your head turns, keen eyes regarding him.
You approach his house, stopping at the bottom of the porch. You stand with your hands stuffed in your coat pockets, head tilted slightly and a smile on your lips as you say, “Up a bit early, aren't you?”
Joel takes a sip of his coffee. “Could say the same about you.”
“Early bird catches the worm,” you reply, smiling at him. He swallows. You make him nervous. Despite the few interactions he’s had with you, he feels like you know him to his very marrow, and that scares a man like Joel.
“More like a night owl.” 
You chuckle. “A bird is a bird. I’ll see you around, Joel Miller.”
He stares after your retreating figure for so long his coffee has gone cold. With a sigh, he returns inside, thoughts no less tangled than when he first stepped outside.
________
You survey the rose bushes you’ve cultivated, rows of different varietals beginning to blossom or in full bloom. The peony buds have gotten larger and any day now they should blossom as spring really begins to show her colors. The mornings and evenings are still cold, but the afternoons give way to hotter temperatures and thankfully you’ve been spared one last late winter snowfall.
You prune some of the faded blooms from the bushes, collecting them for composting. When you’re done, you return inside to wash up and change before heading to the library. As you scrub beneath your fingernails, your mind drifts to the specter of Jackson, Joel Miller.
There’s something about him that draws you in, despite the arms length of distance he tries to keep from everyone. You saw him the other morning after you made your way through the cemetery long before it officially opened, laying extra flowers around some of the less tended graves. It’s not the first time, and based on what you know about the older man, it won’t be the last.
________
Since Joel isn’t scheduled for a patrol for a few days, he decides to visit the library. Too much idleness is dangerous for a man like Joel, who is in constant search of something to keep his mind and body occupied so that his thoughts don’t drift to darker places. 
You’re sitting at the circulation desk when he enters, bent over a book as you read off the log number on it and write it in a journal under your hand. You look up, flashing him a smile that briefly suffuses him with warmth. 
“Hey,” you say in greeting. He nods, intending to just walk past you, but you continue to ask, “You need help finding anything?”
“No,” he replies shortly. You nod, smile faltering the slightest bit. Joel feels a flash of guilt before he tamps it down and walks deeper into the library. 
He explores the tidy shelves until he finds himself in the fiction section, reading cracked spines and faded letters until one catches his eye. It’s a small paperback sandwiched between two larger books, a pink spine etched with white lines and faded blue lettering. He wiggles it free, turning it over in his hands.
A Wrinkle In Time.
The blue cover with a snowy mountain scene, three children carried in an egg over a town by a flying white creature used to stare up at him from Sarah’s nightstand. It was her favorite book, one she had him read to her at bedtime when she was five. It was the same book he’d caught her reading under the covers with a flashlight past her bedtime when she was eight, the same one she carried everywhere until it fell apart and he had to replace it when she was ten.
Joel’s hand shakes and he has to steady himself by holding the bookshelf. His chest feels tight, too small of a space for his rapidly pounding heart. The words printed on the books in front of him all blur together as he tries to focus, tries to breathe, tries to stay in the present.
There’s a hand on top of his. Delicate, soft. A voice he knows he recognizes but can’t place is saying his name, but it sounds like it’s coming through layers of cotton in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut.
After a long moment, that vise grip around his chest eases and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He blinks, spots dancing in his vision as his eyes adjust to the light once more. 
“Joel?” You ask, voice quiet. It makes his muscles tense, coiled tight like he’s ready to run. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies roughly. He slips his hand out from beneath yours. “‘M fine.”
You’re silent for a moment, keen eyes making him feel flayed open and exposed as you watch him. Finally you ask, “Was it about your daughter?”
“No,” he snaps. Rage blinds him, white hot in his vision as he moves past you. 
“Wait,” you call out. Joel pauses but doesn’t turn. “It’s okay, you know. To still carry that pain. Did you ever even allow yourself a chance to mourn?”
He turns, looking at you incredulously. “What the hell do you mean? I mourn every fuckin’ day.”
“No, you grieve. You let the thoughts of Sarah—“
“Don’t. Don’t you say her name,” he hisses, stepping closer in his anger. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”
“—haunt you to the point of pain. You think I don’t know why you’re out there on your porch so early some mornings? It’s the same reason I’m out in the cemetery,” you confess. You take a deep breath. “You’ve been fighting for survival since the outbreak and you never gave yourself the chance to mourn. You owe it to yourself and to Sarah to try.”
Joel’s chest heaves, a venomous retort on the tip of his tongue when a voice calls out your name from the front of the building. With one last look that speaks volumes with no words, you disappear from the stacks.
Joel leaves the library and heads straight for the Tipsy Bison. A young man is polishing glassware when he storms in, door slamming shut behind him. 
“What can I get you?” The man asks as Joel slides onto a stool.
“Whiskey,” he demands. A glass is set in front of him, amber liquid poured until it's halfway full. He brings the glass to his lips and lets the alcohol burn its way down his throat and erase the taste of guilt on his tongue. Setting the glass on the bar he says, “Another.”
He drinks two more glasses in the same fashion, glaring at the boy when he hesitates to pour his third drink. He sips his fourth pour slowly, letting time pass as it always cruelly will.
Finally, when the light beyond the window panes starts to fade, he heads home, hands shoved in his pockets as he wills one foot in front of the other, gaze fixed on the pavement. It’s not a long walk but it feels like it as he cuts between buildings to avoid having to make conversation with people. 
When he reaches his house, he stomps up the steps as he digs in his pockets for his key. His boot knocks into something on the ground by the door. He bends over to pick up the object.
A Wrinkle In Time.
Joel opens his front door and collapses on the couch, book pressed to his chest as a dreamless, whiskey tinged sleep consumes him.
________ 
“Stop running! Put your hands up!”
Joel sets Sarah on the ground, raising his hands above his head. “We’re not sick! My daughter, she hurt her ankle,” he shouts.
The soldier keeps his gun trained on them as a staticky voice over the radio says something he can’t make out. His finger moves from rest to poised over the trigger, the barrel of his gun braced against his shoulder as he takes aim.
“No!” Joel shouts as the gun goes off. He launches himself in front of Sarah, wrapping his arms around her and bracing for the impact and the shocking pain. 
The pain doesn’t come. He slowly opens his eyes, expecting to see the soldier and his gun but instead he sees Sarah, a shocked look on her face as she clutches her stomach, dark blood staining her fingers. She’s far away, not right behind him like she had been.
That’s when Joel notices the weight in his hands, the cold press of metal to his palms. He looks down at the black rifle in his hands, then back up at Sarah.
“No!”
Joel wakes tangled in his sheets, panic coursing through his veins and a hoarse shout of Sarah’s name fading in the dark. As he chokes on the air his lungs are desperate for, he glances at the clock. It’s early again, too early for the rest of the town to be awake save for the people scheduled to return from patrol in a couple hours. 
He runs a hand over his face with a sigh before getting up. It’s been a couple weeks since he last had a nightmare, the product of back to back patrol shifts and helping with a building repair that left him so blissfully exhausted his traitorous brain couldn’t torture him, but it seems they’ve returned with a vengeance. 
Joel gets dressed and heads downstairs, making himself coffee that he brings out to the porch. He watches the cemetery gate, part of him hoping he sees you and a larger part hoping whatever haunts you has left your peace intact for the night.
Like his thoughts have conjured you from the ether, you step outside the cemetery gates. He sees the brief moment of hesitation when you notice him sitting on his porch, but a forgiving part of you must urge you closer. When you reach the porch, you regard him with that same look that makes him feel like you can see right through to his wretched soul.
“You’re up early,” you comment knowingly.
“So are you.”
“So I am.” You take a deep breath. “Come with me. I wanna show you something.”
You don’t wait for his response before you’re turning, heading for the gate and back towards the cemetery. Despite his better judgment, Joel follows, taking wide steps to catch up with your quick stride.
You walk the winding dirt paths between the headstones with sure steps that Joel follows with uncertainty. He’s never been in the cemetery, has never had a reason, so he appraises the headstones with a morbid curiosity, reading the names of people he’s never met. He notes that a number of the sites have flowers in various stages of freshness.
After a few minutes, you stop and Joel glances at the headstone you’ve paused in front of.
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“Tommy had it put in a few years after he got to town,” you say quietly. “He told me about her…about what happened.” Joel takes a step closer, dropping to his knees. The damp earth cushions the fall, early morning dew seeping into his jeans as he reaches out to trace the carved letters of his baby’s name. 
“I’ll…I’ll give you some privacy. I just thought you should know she’s here.”
As you turn to leave, Joel reaches out and wraps a tentative hand around your knee. You look at him in surprise as he murmurs, “Stay with me?”
You lower yourself to the ground, settling in beside him as the sun rises and the world around you wakes from its slumber. 
________
You sit together in front of Sarah’s headstone for about an hour before Joel stands with a groan and mumbled curse. He holds a hand out to you to help you up, the gesture leaving you nearly pressed together. You search his brown eyes, hoping for a glimpse of relief but it’s still too soon to tell.
“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, stepping back and clearing his throat. “For snappin’ at you in the library.”
“I understand. I made a lot of assumptions that day,” you reply. He laughs, though it’s strained.
“Yeah, well, if there were still a lottery around I’d tell you to buy a ticket. You were right on the money.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Thought I was gettin’ better. After all that time with Ellie…I felt like I had a purpose again.”
“Maybe that’s the issue. Thinking your purpose is tied to someone else.”
His brow furrows. “How do you keep doin’ that?”
“Doing what?” You ask.
“Seein’ right through me.” 
You smile at him. 
“Like attracts like, Joel. Remember that.”
________
Joel starts visiting Sarah’s grave regularly. Sometimes it’s early, the result of another nightmare or returning from patrol, and sometimes it’s later in the evening, when fireflies begin to flicker in the grass as spring wears on. He takes the worn copy of A Wrinkle In Time that you left him, reading a chapter of it out loud each time as he sits with his back pressed to the stone marker.
One thing he notes with growing intrigue is how there’s always flowers on a number of the headstones, including Sarah’s. It’s a reminder that he’s not the only victim of loss, even if his own still feels like a gaping wound some days.
He visits the library again, a bag full of books he found on his last patrol shift heavy on his back as he enters the building. You look up from a book you’re reading as the door shuts, smiling at him. 
“Hey,” you say in greeting. “You need any help finding anything today?”
“No. Brought you somethin’, though,” he replies, hefting the bag onto the counter and opening it to reveal his bounty. “Found ‘em last patrol.”
You reach in and pull two of the books out, your grin downright ecstatic as you look at him. “The Lord of the Rings?”
“Complete set. You ever read it?”
“When I was younger,” you murmur, fingers tracing the cover of the book. “Thank you, Joel.”
His heart pounds as he looks at you, smile bright and eyes soft. You remove the other books from his bag, laying them out and checking them for damage. He likes watching you work, the gentle way that you flip through the time worn pages soothing to him as he stands there. 
“What’s your favorite book?” You ask, glancing at him as you work. 
“Not much of a reader. Sarah was, though. She would tell me about the books she was reading,” he says, voice catching on Sarah’s name. “She loved A Wrinkle In Time. Started the Harry Potter series, too. When the last one came out she made me take her to the bookstore at midnight just to get it.”
“My brother did the same,” you reply. “Dressed up and everything.”
“Your brother, huh?” Joel asks. You stack the books, avoiding Joel’s gaze.
“He was about Sarah’s age. Twelve. I was seventeen when…everything happened.” You pause. “The night that everything started happening, I had actually snuck out of the house. Went to a party in the woods. I made it back home just as the grid went out but when I got inside…”
“You don’t gotta tell me this,” Joel says.
“When I got inside, my brother was sitting at the table, covered in blood. Our parents had attacked him and he fought them off as best he could. He could feel the infection, you know? Knew something was wrong. He told me to leave.” You take a deep breath, your eyes returning to the present. A tear slides down your cheek and you brush it away quickly. “If I had been there—“
“Don’t,” Joel interrupts. “You can’t blame yourself.”
You laugh, looking at him incredulously. “Pot meet kettle!”
Joel laughs with you, a boisterous sound he hasn’t heard in years. It feels almost rusty in its disuse. “Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says when quiet descends once more. 
“It’s only fair, right? A tragedy for a tragedy?”
“I don’t think that’s how the sayin’ goes.”
You shrug. “That’s how the world goes, though.”
________
As spring starts to fold into summer, Joel finds himself growing closer to you. It starts with visits to the library when he’s off from patrol, helping you shelve and catalog books. Soon, he’s spending so much time there that he’s still around when it’s time for you to lock up and he offers to walk you home or to the mess hall for dinner. 
Dinner turns into the occasional drink at the Tipsy Bison. Those nights are his favorite, watching as you try to play darts after a few drinks and laughing when you pout after each missed shot.
Better days still give way to troubled nights, though. He wakes on one such night drenched in sweat, the nightmare just a haze of fear in his mind. It’s early, of course, so he takes a brief shower and dresses before grabbing his coffee and A Wrinkle In Time to make his way to the cemetery.
The ground is soft beneath his footsteps as he takes a now familiar path to Sarah’s headstone, seating himself on the damp dirt. He reads for a bit before the creak of hinges alerts him to someone’s arrival.
You enter through the front gate, a pile of flowers wrapped in butcher paper in your arms. He watches as you lay flowers around the graves with care, moving steadily among the rows until you’ve reached Joel.
“You do the flowers?” He asks. You take a seat beside him, gathering a wilted white rose from in front of the headstone and replacing it with a spray of yellow flowers. 
“Some of them. Sometimes people come to me for arrangements to bring themselves,” you reply. 
“Why?”
“Because I still believe in beautiful things,” you tell him with a shrug.
Joel watches you set the flower carefully on the ground in front of Sarah’s headstone and it feels like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place. In the silence between you, his mind drifts to Tess, who he cared for but couldn’t give himself fully with the way he was when he knew her. He thinks about Bill and Frank and the kindness they showed him even when he didn’t show his gratitude. He thinks about Ellie, who stuck by his side despite everything he had to do to make it here. 
Then there’s you, who’s planted roots in his heart like the flowers you grow and filled him with a light he hasn’t known in a long time and it leaves him feeling damn near winded. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when a crack of thunder precedes the opening of the sky, heavy raindrops filtering through the tree branches.
“Shit!” He curses, shoving his book into the waistband of his jeans beneath his shirt to protect it from the rain. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging you up from the ground and keeping your hand gripped tightly in his as you both sprint for his porch. 
You’re both drenched from the sudden summer downpour, rain dripping from your clothes and hair to the porch as you race up the steps. Another crack of thunder has you jumping, laughter spilling from your lips that joins the melody of the rain on the roof. 
As your laughter fades, Joel pulls you closer by the hand still held tight in his. He searches your face for any sign that you might not want this, might not want him, but to his relief he finds none. He wraps an arm around your low back, pressing your rain soaked body to his as he tilts his head to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.
The kiss remains soft, gentle, a smooth glide of his slightly chapped lips against yours. You taste like rainwater but feel like sunshine, a perfect dichotomy. Joel pulls away slowly, not wanting to lose the connection but starting to feel uncomfortable in his soaked clothing.
“Come on,” he says, “let’s get some dry clothes.”
He leads you inside the dark house and upstairs to his bedroom. He finds a shirt and boxers for you, turning to give you the privacy to change as he does the same, setting the damp book on his nightstand and leaving his wet clothes in a heap on the floor. 
“I’m decent,” you announce. He turns, breath catching at the vision you make wearing his clothes, your nipples pressing against the worn cotton shirt. He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and a hand behind your neck to pull you into another kiss. 
You pull away first this time, stepping back and crawling into his bed. You burrow beneath the covers before lifting the edge, an eyebrow raised at him in invitation. He slides in beside you, blankets settling over your bodies as you rest your head against his bare chest.
“I’m scared,” Joel says, a whisper in the dark. 
“About what?” You ask, lifting yourself up to look at him. He swallows around the lump in his throat.
“Losin’ you. Losin’ Ellie. Losin’ Tommy.” A pause. “Like I lost Sarah. And Tess.”
“Fear doesn’t stop death, Joel. It just stops you from living.”
________
Something changes in Joel with your words. He lifts his head from the pillow to kiss you, his body shifting beneath yours to push you onto your back so he can hover over you. This kiss is different, more desperate as his tongue slides against yours and his teeth dig into your bottom lip. 
You slide your fingers into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and making him moan into your kiss. He trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck as he urges your legs apart and fits himself in the space between your thighs.
His hips rock against yours, the friction making you gasp and pull on his hair. He chuckles against the skin of your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, sucking a mark into your skin to match the one he’s left on your heart.
One of his warm hands lifts your borrowed shirt, bunching the material beneath your armpits and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Joel dips his head to pull one nipple between his lips and he swirls his tongue over the hard bud, looking up at your face as he does. He does the same to your other breast, the delicious sensation of his mouth almost enough to distract you from the slow drag of his calloused fingers across your tummy and beneath the elastic of the boxers he’s leant to you.
He groans as his fingers circle your clit, gathering your wetness and spreading it over your folds with his movements. He leans up to kiss you again, deep swipes of his tongue exploring your mouth as your hips chase his hand with increasing fervor.
“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs. There’s a bright flash of lightning that illuminates the room, giving you a clearer view of the adoration simmering in his eyes.
You press a hand to his cheek. “You deserve good things, Joel Miller.”
He drops his head, forehead pressed to your collarbone. He slips two fingers inside of you as thunder rattles the windows, the storm overhead matching the one in your body as he works his digits with slow, methodical movements, curling them with each pull from inside of you. 
“Need you,” you whimper, “please, Joel, need you.”
“You got me,” he says, sitting up to tug the boxers down your thighs and pull the waistband of his down, freeing his cock that he takes on his fist, rubbing it through your folds.
He notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pressing inside of you with a single deep thrust that has you gasping his name. There’s another crack of lightning as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush to yours.
Joel starts to move, setting a leisurely pace, notably unhurried as you relish in the weight of him against you. His forehead drops to yours and he peppers your face with soft kisses, from your forehead to your nose to your chin. You smile at him and to your surprise and delight, he grins back.
He sits up, gripping your hips for leverage as his rhythm changes to something more carnal, more desperate, sharp thrusts that drag against something inside of you that makes stars dance across your vision. You’re moaning his name with each collision of his hips to yours and his head drops back with his own deep groan as you tighten around him with your release.
“Fuck,” he shouts, withdrawing quickly and taking himself in hand, hot splashes of cum hitting your stomach as you gasp for air. Joel leaves the bed for a moment and returns with a damp cloth he uses to wipe you clean before tossing it to the pile of wet clothes and climbing back into bed beside you.
He pulls you close and with your head on his chest, you let the pounding rhythm of his heart lull you back to sleep. 
________
“Look how high I got, daddy!” 
Joel watches a young Sarah deftly climb the limbs of a tree she found on their hike. He laughs as she straddles the last branch she can reach, waving down at him with a bright grin on her face. 
“That’s mighty impressive, baby girl, but can you get back down?” He shouts up at her. 
“Of course I can!” She insists, slowly working her way back down the branches. She makes it to a lower branch but she can’t reach a foothold from where she hangs by her arms. “Daddy!”
“I gotcha,” Joel says, moving to stand below her. “Just let go, I’ll catch ya.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
Joel’s eyes flutter open. The first thing he notices is the sunlight streaming through the open window. You must have woken up before him and opened it. The room is warm from the late summer sun, but there’s a breeze that rustles the curtains as he stands and stretches.
He can hear the clink of pans downstairs and he follows the noise, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen as he finds you whisking something in a bowl. It’s been weeks since that early morning together in bed and every day since you continue to help put him together piece by jagged piece.
You must feel him there, attuned to him as you always are, because you turn and grin brightly at him.
“There you are,” you say, crossing the kitchen to kiss him. “Was wondering when you’d finally wake up.”
“Can’t a man sleep in once and a while?” He asks, pulling you in for a second and third kiss. “What are you workin’ on?”
“A cake. It’s July 20th.”
Sarah’s birthday. 
Joel’s breath leaves him in a rush. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you tightly to him, your arms wrapped around his waist as you squeeze back.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Always.”
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