#let me know your thoughts in the comments or my inbox or whatever i love discussing stuff hehe!!
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zl fic idea
hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.
4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut
ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.
so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated.
finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone.
theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be.
he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks.
zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say.
hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do.
he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes.
his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine .
zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake.
he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here.
so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.
—
thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong.
zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks.
zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.”
that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels.
“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back”
“what?”
“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation.
he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing.
“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out.
hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him.
youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is.
he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.”
zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is.
he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.”
he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.
room.
shambles
—
zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.
—
he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.
he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work.
work?
what the fuck is happening.
its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew.
he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening.
without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work.
hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has.
he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).
his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards.
uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling.
nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been.
so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either.
is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…
a lightbulb goes off.
fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook.
he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives.
(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)
he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside.
the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him.
he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen.
zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face.
“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.”
hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords.
sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face.
he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen.
zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real.
its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can.
“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously.
he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.”
the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him
“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.
“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now.
“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut.
the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words.
he blinks.
then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words.
“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins.
“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be.
“holy shit. holy shit.”
zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself.
“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling.
“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure.
“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders.
“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny.
“fuck you.”
he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason.
“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough”
zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused.
“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. ��promised what?”
zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.”
he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.
he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.
and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.
sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail
by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.
—
(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)
uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea
#devil fruits don't work like this but don't sweat the logistics. just read with your heart not your head#it starts off rough cause im kind of just rambling about my ideas then the more i go the more it just turns into a fic#let me know your thoughts in the comments or my inbox or whatever i love discussing stuff hehe!!#as you all know im an artist first and foremost but sometimes my ideas get a bit too big for my current drawing skills so i write them down#so heres that#one piece#zolu#theres no guarantee i'll ever like. srsly continue this but i rly rly like it as a concept im invested LOL#and i have a few ideas on how the rest of the crew would be found that ive discussed w friends#so perhaps if i find motivation and can outline. an actual plot progression and clean up this first part...#well who knows... XD#also im not a zs truther in fact my insta followers r well aware of my. certain feeling on the ship#HOWEEVVEERRR i do think zoro and sanji have such an interesting unique and important dynamic/relationship#that i enjoy studying outside of a romantic lens#anyway ive spoken enough . pls enjoy! or dont thats fine as well
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Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought.
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less.
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point.
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you.
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room.
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?”
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself.
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration.
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.”
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck.
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?"
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you."
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression.
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me."
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe."
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?"
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps.
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed."
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin.
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most.
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically.
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control.
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck.
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you.
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you.
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch.
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build.
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust.
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs.
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply.
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place.
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets.
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds.
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks.
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room.
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver.
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks.
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise.
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders.
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me."
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust.
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace.
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame.
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore."
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises.
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it.
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could.
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead.
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.”
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud.
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.”
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent.
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.”
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
#I had to edit some of this one shot to make it MORE ACCEPTABLE#im sick I tell you#sick sick woman#im definitely not getting into heaven after writing this#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel adam#Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader#Hazbin Hotel Adam smut#Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader smut#Adam smut#Adam x reader#Adam x reader smut#smut#Hazbin Hotel lucifer#lucifer#Hazbin Hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel Adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉
Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story.
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck.
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell.
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion.
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table.
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips.
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests.
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression.
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown.
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences.
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes.
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment.
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook.
Fuck.
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you.
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends?
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention.
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests.
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere.
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy.
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek.
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated.
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm.
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants.
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx.
–
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness.
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass.
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss.
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you.
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips.
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins.
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.”
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body.
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing.
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold.
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric.
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit.
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers.
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp.
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence.
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall.
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more.
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?”
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two.
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves.
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix.
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!”
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too.
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him.
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot.
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment.
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction.
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins.
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo.
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels.
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy.
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook fics#jungkook fanfics#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook smut#jjk fic#jjk smut#jungkook#jungkook one shot#bts x you#bts x reader#bts smut#bangtan smut#bangtan x you#bangtan x reader
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inner man challenge! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡
hey babes!! okay, i know i said i was going on break but i got this sudden inspiration and yk i had to make a post!! so this challenge is called the inner man challenge, because it's all about fulfilling your inner man and staying in the wish fulfilled!!
WHAT IS THE GOAL FOR THIS CHALLENGE? ★
making the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state
fulfilling your inner man
falling in love with imagination
not caring about the 3d
FIRST STEP! ★
this is crucial! remove the intention of manifesting to be for getting in the 3d!!! "but girl.. the whole point of manifesting is to get it in the 3d" okay yes, if u want to believe that i can't change your mind. but to get it in the 3d we need to be fulfilled, and you can't be in the SOWF if you are still trying to get it! read this if ur still confused <3
me personally i feel like the reason why some people don't get results from methods, challenges etc is because they are doing the method to get it in the 3d, not to feel fulfilled. but thats just me 🤷🏾♀️
SECOND STEP! ★
now for the fun part, decide what you want!! df, db, sp, a billion bucks in ur account, being the smartest of ur class, moving out of your paren'ts home, getting into your dream college, literally go wild!!
THIRD STEP! ★
fulfill your inner man when your inner man needs fulfilling! if something bad arises in the 3d that shakes ur confidence, fulfill!
having the urge to look in ur bank account to see if you have a billion bucks? close your eyes, imagine your inner man looking at her bank account and seeing the numbers go up by the second!
one of your family members makes a comment about how ugly you are?? would your inner man care?? NO! bc she's fine asf!
if anything 'bad' happens in the 3d, imagine your inner man saying "uh.. thats cute but i'm living my dream life rn sooo.."
WAIT, IS THERE A SCHEDULE? ★
there's no schedule to this challenge!! no "in the morning say 1409834 affirmations, in the afternoon vaunt for 3 hours, in the night do starfish position and affirm for the void" NO!! literally just fulfill your inner man when ur inner man needs fulfilling!!
"don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d."
- @remcycl333
HOW DO I STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED THE ENTIRE DAY? ★
no need to stay in the SOWF the entire day, we are always changing states! for example, right now you're in the state of reading this post, and i am in the state of writing this post. it's all about making the SOWF your dwelling state! so if you accidentally stay in the state of lack 7 times but you are in the SOWF 8 times, then the SOWF is your dwelling state! (btw don't count the times you enter a state lmao)
ANYTHING ELSE? ★
get off tumblr, just delete the app.. like this place is literally just making you overconsume. you have better things to do!
if you have a negative thought don't spiral and think all your progress has gone to waste. breathe in and out, your inner man has it and that's all that matters.
have fun!! this challenge isn't like other challenges (soo quirky i know 😜), it's meant to fulfill you instead of making you stress about the 3d. make fun scenarios in your head, vaunt, just have a good time!!
WHEN you get successes (whatever you consider to be a success: feeling that your inner man is fulfilled, or getting it in the 3d) send it to me or make a post about it using #star's-inner-man-challenge!
if you have any questions let me know in my inbox, bye yall!! 💞
#star's-inner-man-challenge#imagination creates reality#living in the end#loassumption#manifestation#master manifestor#loa#neville goddard#law of assumption#loa affirmations#manifesting#the law of assumption#manifest#spiritual#spirituality#shiftblr#reality shift#things to manifest#shifters#shifting realities#reality shifting#void success story#void state success story#void state#i am state#loa tumblr#loablr#loa blog#manifest your life#manifest your dreams
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{Only Me and the Devil Know} Azriel x Reader
Picture credit
So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)
Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)
Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.
Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.
Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo
~~~~~
The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary.
I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be.
After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer.
I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.
I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen.
“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”
My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie.
What the fuck?
I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.
No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.
“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again.
“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged.
“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”
“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew.
“Yn-”
“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”
“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”
“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”
With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless.
____
There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements.
I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster.
It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants.
But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?
Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick.
Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now.
The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up.
I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up.
There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before.
My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?
“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”
Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder.
I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good.
The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this.
When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night.
A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height.
I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.
I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings.
Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.
It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely.
But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-
Nope. Not going there.
_____
With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter.
I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals.
It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat.
I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked.
A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall.
“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.
Oh shit.
My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.
“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”
I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.
“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”
“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”
Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-
“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno.
My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread.
“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.”
“I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out.
He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”
A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”
“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking.
I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes.
This was it. This was going to happen.
I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.
My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.
How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs.
Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry.
The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.
I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field.
“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.”
He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move.
“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”
In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head.
As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.
“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.
It was solid stone.
“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”
“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”
“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”
I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”
“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”
“I don’t want this.”
“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one.
“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”
He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor.
My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber.
“Where am I?”
“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”
Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome.
He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”
I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”
“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”
I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen.
His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs.
“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”
I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”
Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.
He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back.
“Good girl, my dove.”
I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.
“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”
Again, not comforting.
“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me.
“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”
The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core.
A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand.
“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”
I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle.
“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.”
My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.
But my goodness was he a stunning male.
Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest.
“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”
“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”
“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”
I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.
I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded.
“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”
Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”
Uh oh.
With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it.
When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip.
“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”
My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly.
With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?”
I nodded vigorously.
I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare.
“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”
I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move.
“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”
He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already.
This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest.
“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”
His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs.
It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me.
“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”
Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously.
“Tell me what you want, dove.”
I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”
“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.
“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud.
“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”
His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened.
Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?
“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”
I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came.
Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside.
There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him.
I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here.
But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…
Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria.
“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”
My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe.
The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood.
“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”
He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….
The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it.
Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up.
“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed.
“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.
“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”
“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.”
I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?
“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”
I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me.
The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore.
My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me.
“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”
Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator.
And I had made him that way.
“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”
He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants.
Holy Mother send me a blessing.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.”
“No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”
“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”
With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-
“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”
My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin.
“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips.
After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing.
He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance.
“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”
He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.
When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance.
“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”
I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.
It was so thrilling.
With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body.
“Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”
His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin.
I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”
An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose.
When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.
I felt like I was in the clouds.
The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.
All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground.
“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”
The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”
“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”
If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing.
“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”
My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did.
The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard.
With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit.
I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said.
The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine.
His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.
“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”
I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next.
“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”
“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”
His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me.
My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him.
“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”
“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”
The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was.
He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back.
It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me.
His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin.
Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved.
When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently.
“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.”
It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put.
I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories.
Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted.
It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity.
I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too.
The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together.
“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”
I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.
____
The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room.
“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”
“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”
“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-”
“Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?”
“Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”
“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”
“You’re sure?” he asked again.
I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?”
“Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”
“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.
~~~~~~
[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]
Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.
When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.
When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.
“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots.
It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”
“They live two houses to the left.”
“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”
“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand.
“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”
Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it.
And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears.
You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted.
How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this.
It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end.
Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.
But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants.
The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.
“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”
“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made.
“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”
He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.
“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”
“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job.
“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”
The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck.
Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up.
He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you.
You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.
You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”
It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”
“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”
“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”
“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”
“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”
“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about.
You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful.
“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”
“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”
With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism.
“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him.
“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”
“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”
“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”
“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”
Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”
You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”
“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”
“Yours as well, Azriel.”
______
When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.
“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”
Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.
“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”
“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”
With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided.
And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.
He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life.
As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way.
Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having.
Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be.
He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening.
He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore.
It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected.
From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.
One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind.
____
READER POV
I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting.
“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him.
Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Love, what is it?”
He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”
“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”
“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”
A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire.
“Azriel, tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”
His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke.
“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”
That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”
“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”
“No, no you don’t. Keep going.”
“Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-”
“There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”
His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”
I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot.
He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea.
Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought.
Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…
“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.
“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”
I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it.
“Say it.”
“I want it, Az.”
“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”
My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”
Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”
I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?”
Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”
_______
My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.
#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#acotar smut#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel smut#acotar#azriel acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#smut
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Look How Far We've Come - J.S.
summary - Y/N recalls the time she told Jake he was going to be a father
warnings - fluff, language, pregnancy, near-labor, use of Y/N
wc - 2.3k
A/N - Sorry about the wait! Here is part 2 of this. I am open to doing a part 3, or basically anything with the two of them "telling" the rest of the group. Leave a comment or send something to my inbox if there's anything you want to see from me/with these two! Also Bradley isn't even in this technically, but in this au he is a major himbo if that wasn't obvious already, but we love him. Okay, happy reading!!!
The mini fan Jake had packed was propped up on the side table, blowing a weak stream of air your way but doing absolutely nothing to lessen the sweltering August heat. Huffing loudly, you stopped bouncing on the exercise ball and used your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead.
A hum of satisfaction drew your attention to Jake, who was lounging on the hospital bed eating a sandwich he packed before you guys left. Another noise left his mouth as he took another bite, completely oblivious to the murderous glare you were sending his way.
“Ya know, you have an awful lot of trust in the idea that I won’t come over there and smother you and that damn sandwich with a pillow.” Jake’s eyes widened and his chewing halted at your threat, before a smug grin took over his face.
“Now darlin’, I don’t know about the pillow, but I’ll let you smother me with somethin’ else if you want,” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You stared at him, your face deadpan, before pulling a hair elastic off your wrist and slingshotting it at his forehead.
“Hey! Don’t damage government property!” He whined, rubbing where the elastic hit him.
You rolled your eyes, “Whatever. Come help me up so I can go sit on my hospital bed.” Jake quickly placed the sandwich on the table next to the fan before rushing over to your side. Grabbing your outstretched hands, he slowly pulled you up off the ball before helping you waddle over to the bed.
With Jake’s help, you eased yourself onto the bed, sitting cross-legged rubbing your rounded belly. Your stomach growled, hunger overtaking your senses. You hadn’t been allowed to eat anything since you were admitted that morning, but seeing as you had been in labor for eight hours since then, you were absolutely starving. Moving ever so slowly, you reached over to the side table, picking up Jake’s half-eaten sandwich as he dug through your hospital bag.
“Here, I got you–Woah, woah, woah. Hand over the sandwich, little lady.” Damn it.
You froze, sandwich halfway to your mouth. Jake’s outstretched hand motioned for you to give it up, and you sighed, placing the sandwich in his palm. “But Jaaaaake, I’m starving.” You whined irritably.
“Hi, Starving, I’m Dad.” He winked.
If looks could kill, Jake Seresin’s body would be unidentifiable, yet the look on your face did nothing to wipe the goofy grin off his face. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, absolutely delighted with himself. You hoped your son got his eyes. And that sweet Seresin smile. You fought off a small grin, and groaned, “Can you please just tell your son to stop taking his sweet time so that I can finally eat something?”
Jake pulled one of the chairs up to the edge of the bed before leaning over and gently cradling your bump. Nine months in and you still got butterflies at the feeling of his big, warm hands on your stomach.
You always knew you wanted children someday, and while these were certainly not the circumstances you had always envisioned, the thought of a little tiny baby, half-you and half-Jake Seresin, made your heart squeeze.
As he pressed kisses and mumbled words to your hospital gown-covered belly, you delicately carded your fingers through his soft blond hair. Everything about your pregnancy felt like a whirlwind. The past nine months had flown by, riddled with anxiety about motherhood and what life would look like after the baby arrived, but right now, with Jake right next to you, you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t help but think back to how stressed and anxious you had been to tell him you were pregnant.
—--------
You paced the living room anxiously, your mind running a mile a minute. You could hear the clock ticking slowly in the kitchen, reminding you that any second, Jake Seresin’s truck would be pulling into your driveway.
The knot in your stomach was getting tighter with each passing second. What if he got mad? What if he didn’t believe that the baby was his? What if he didn’t want anything to do with the baby? What if he didn’t want anything to do with you?
You knew it was unfair to assume the worst about Jake. People could say whatever they wanted about Hangman, but Jake Seresin had never been anything but sweet and genuine with you. A little cocky, maybe, but he’d never given you any reason to believe he’d leave you hanging.
Selfishly, you also wondered what this would mean for the two of you. You’d always had a thing for Jake, and you were secretly hoping after the two of you hooked up, it would become something more, but a baby just complicated all of that. You wanted him to want you for you, not just because you were having his baby.
The slamming of a truck door pulled you from your thoughts. You tried to psych yourself up as you went to let him in. It’s gonna be fine. You’re just gonna sit him down and rip the bandaid off. It’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine. What could possibly go wrong?
“Hi,” You breathed out, “Thanks for coming over.”
“Of course.” Jake grinned, stepping inside. You internally groaned as you took in his appearance. His dark blonde hair was messy, yet somehow looked perfectly styled. His navy blue jacket was pulled off, revealing a tight white t-shirt underneath, paired with lighter wash jeans which covered his toned legs. How was it fair that he looked so good all of the time?
You shook your head, trying to get rid of the dirty thoughts that were quickly filling it. You waited as he toed his boots off and hung his jacket on a hook by the door before leading him to the couch.
“So,” You started, “I asked you to come over because I need to talk to you about something,”
Jake watched you carefully as you went on, “Do you remember that night we spent together, about a month ago?”
A knowing smirk took over his face, “You know I do, honey. Is that what this is about?”
“Well, yeah, you see–”
“Darlin’, I know we agreed on it being a one-time thing, but if you wanted it to happen again, all you had to do was ask.”
“Ok, but Jake, that’s not–”
“Y’know, I’ve actually been thinking about it too and–”
“Jake, I’m pregnant.” And off comes the bandaid.
His face was frozen in place. You felt like you could see the gears turning inside his head. The blonde carefully got to his feet, slowly pacing in front of the couch.
“O-okay, so,” He glanced at you, an unreadable expression on his face, “So you’re pregnant?”
You nodded gently, getting to your feet. You stood in front of him, halting his movement. Your hands wrapped around his strong, muscular biceps, the tanned skin beneath your–No. Him and those damn muscles are what got you into this situation in the first place.
He stared at you wide-eyed, “And I’m the father?”
You nodded again. The sound of Jake’s quickening breaths engulfed the two of you for a moment. You were about to explain to him that you didn’t expect anything from him when he opened his mouth again.
“B-but, but, we– I mean, I– and the– oh god, and you’re–” His breaths were shallow as his knees buckled. Your grip on him tightened as you tried to hold his towering frame upright, but you could feel him becoming dead weight.
“Alright, down we go, cowboy.” You muttered as you eased the two of you back onto the couch. You quickly reached for your untouched glass of water on the coffee table before handing it to Jake.
“Here, drink this.” He gratefully accepted it, bringing the glass to his lips as you reached your hand up and pushed a few soft, blond strands off his damp forehead. The two of you sat for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes as Jake absorbed the information.
Kids were something Jake Seresin had never given much thought. Sure, growing up in a conservative Texas family, the idea wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he’d always known he wanted to be in the Navy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a wife and kids, he had just assumed it would be something he would have to forgo in order to achieve his career goals. He had accepted that it wasn’t in the cards for him.
“You’d make a great mom,” He spoke quietly, placing the glass back down before turning to you. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean– that was just…a lot to take in.”
You snorted, “Oh, trust me, I know.” The energy in the room shifted as the two of you sat gazing at each other. A deep silence settled between you and Jake as you both searched for the right thing to say.
“I just want you to know that I’m not, like, expecting anything from you or whatever,” You cringed at your bluntness and lack of articulation. “Sorry– I just mean, you can be as involved or not involved as you want. This is a huge surprise for both of us, and I won’t force you to raise a baby if you don’t want to.”
Jake’s expression was unreadable as your words hung in the air. The ticking of the clock in the kitchen was practically deafening as you waited for him to say something, anything.
“You were right in that this is definitely a surprise,” He chuckled.
Jake could never have predicted this. He never even considered the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy, and he couldn’t even imagine what his grandmother would say if she were here. But Jake didn’t care. Right now, one of his favorite people in the entire world was sitting in front of him, literally growing his baby. He was being given an opportunity to have at least a little part of the life he never thought was possible, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take it.
“But if you want to do this, I’m gonna be right there with you. I wanna be as involved as you’ll let me be.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, it was like a floodgate had opened. Your vision blurred as fat tears spilt over, dripping down your cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?,” Jake cooed comfortingly. He gently lifted you so you were straddling his lap, before pulling you into his arms. You let the tears flow, emptying your head to focus on nothing but the warmth of Jake’s embrace.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that before you pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of the gray hoodie adorning your frame. “Sorry,” You sniffled, “it’s the hormones. One month in and they’re already all out of whack.”
One look at the shoulder of Jake’s white shirt, now littered with stains of mascara and teardrops, had your eyes welling up again. “Shit, your shirt…” You frowned, quickly tried wiping it off, knowing full well your actions were useless.
Jake chuckled, gently grasping your wrist and pulling it away from the stains. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I should probably start getting used to it. I mean, think about it, eight months from now and you and I both will be getting far worse stains on our clothes.”
You let out a watery laugh, a smile making its way onto your face as you realized Jake would probably be the first person to make baby spit-up look good.
—--------
“What are you thinkin’ about, hm?” Jake’s soothing voice drew your attention back to the present.
“When I told you I was pregnant.” You laughed lightly. You watched as Jake smiled fondly, reminiscing about that day last December.
“We’re ready for this, right?” You whispered, unsure if you were really asking Jake or yourself. The blonde lifted his head, hands still glued to your stomach, and met your misty eyes.
“Course we are, darlin’, are you kiddin’ me? We were born ready.” He grinned again. You gave him a pointed look, “Okay, maybe not born ready, but I feel like we have more than enough experience since we basically parent Rooster.”
You giggled at that. Jake wasn’t really wrong, considering how one of Bradley’s terms for letting Jake move in with you guys was that one of you had to pack him a lunch for work everyday.
“Well then, let’s just hope–” The words were stolen from your tongue as pain jolted through you. You closed your eyes, grabbing and squeezing Jake’s hand as your stomach tightened. With his free hand, Jake massaged your neck gently.
“Breathe, baby, breathe. Do you want me to go get the nurse?”
You nodded, eyes still pinched shut. Jake squeezed your hand and kissed your temple before quickly going to find the nearest nurse. He came back 30 seconds later, a red headed nurse trailing him. She smiled warmly at you, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.
“All right, Miss L/N, let’s check how many centimeters, shall we?”
You took a deep breath, leaning into Jake’s side as he sat, perched on the edge of the hospital bed. The blonde began stroking your hair with his large hand as the nurse stood back up, “Well, it looks like it’s time to head to the delivery room.”
Your eyes widened, “Wait, seriously? This isn’t a joke, right? You’re serious?”
She chuckled at your reaction, “Yes, Ma’am. You’re ten centimeters dilated. You’re about to become a mom.”
You lifted your head to look at Jake, chest tight with a mixture of anxiety and overwhelming happiness, “We’re about to become parents.”
The signature Seresin smile found its way to his face, his green eyes shining with excitement. Jake pushed a stray hair behind your ear, “Yes, we are, honey. Yes, we are.”
Taglist:
@mamachasesmayhem
@eloquentdreamer
#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader#tgm fic#jake seresin fluff#glen powell#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x you#top gun hangman#hangman fic#towtls#the one with the longhorns shirt#look how far we've come#lhfwc#romysradio
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Tell Me You Love Me D.W.🌧️
Dean Winchester X!GirlfriendFemaleReader
Warnings: 18+ is advised! language(maybe like twice?) angst sm angst- sad Dean and Sad Reader. I’ve been trying not to use Y/n in many of my fics but.. lmk if you like this way better!! Pls don’t post my stories anywhere except tumblr 🩷
Feedback is always appreciated!! Don’t forget to comment and reblog!! My inbox is open (Not for requests tho!)
🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️
“Just say it Dean, for me?"
You watch as Dean knocks back another shot. "Can't-" He says twirling the small glass between his finger.
You’d been poking him for hours, you knew he felt the same way… right?
You groan hoping off the bar stool. "I need some air." You mumble grabbing your jacket off the chair.
Dean feels the cold air hit his back. He looks over his shoulder and watches you disappear outside.
He had known what you had wanted him to say it But he couldn't.
He couldn't bring himself to do it. Part of him was sacred. Scared of loosing you.
🌧️🌧️🌧️
Once outside you tugged your jacket closer to your body, it had been a windy day in Kansas. It was about to be fall, your favorite season.
You watch as the leaves begin to fall from the trees.
The bar wasn't to packed tonight. There had been a few cars in the lot including Dean’s
You press your body against the brick of the budling. A stray tear falls down your cheek. It had been threating to come out.
You had been with Dean for about two years now.
You have loved him, a lot.
And he knew that, you even told him.
"I love you Dean."
The words you had told him after a bad hunt.
You remembred him looking at you, he didn't say anything.
And that hurt you the most. So ever since then. You'd been begging him to say it. But he wouldn't.
Why were you two even togther then? You thought.
Leaning off the brick wall you storm back into the bar.
Dean was still where you left him, instead of shots he had switched to a beer.
"Why are we even togther?" You breathing was ragged as you stood behind him. His body face the bar.
Dean spins around in his chair. "What.” He says with a confused tone.
"Why. Are. We. Togther." You repeat. Your voice was laced with anger.
A few people had turned around in your direction.
Dean reaches into his pocket. Hr throws a few twenty dollar bills on the counter for whatever he was drinking, and for the half of beer you'd had earlier.
"Come on." Dean says reaching for your arm, but you quickly pull away. He knew he was in deep shit. Never once have you not wanted him to touch you.
Dean opens the door to outside, letting you step out first.
The cold air hits his face, oh how he hated this type of weather.
Once outside you spin to look at him.
“What are we doing Dean!” You shout throwing your arms up in the air.
Dean huffs and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his keys.
“Get in the car it’s cold out.”
You roll your eyes and follow his orders. Walking to the passenger side door you open it. And slide inside.
Dean follows suit. He closes the car door behind him.
“What are we.” You say turning to face your boyfriend.
The green eyed man turns to look at you.
“You’re my girlfriend.” He says with a smirk. You can smell the alcohol on his breath.
You shake your head and begin to fiddle with the sleeves of your jacket.
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
Dean adjusts in his spot.
“Dean-“ You shake your head. “You know I love you right?”
Dean nods at your words. “I know,” he says reaching over to put the keys in the car.
“Why won’t you say it-“
Dean puts the car in drive and begins to drive away. “Seatbelt.” He points.
You huff and ready over to put it on.
“You can’t avoid the question Dean.” You say with an attitude.
Sure he can, he always does. He thinks to himself.
Dean reaches over and turns on the radio. Something Def Leppard by plays softly.
Your anger has begun to boil back up. Why had he been avoiding the question. All you wanted him wanted him to do was tell you he loved you.
“Stop the car.” You say reaching to pull your seatbelt off.
Dean doesn’t listen he continues to drive.
“Stop the car!” You repeat.
Dean presses on the break. The car door flies open. You fling off your seatbelt then exit the car.
"Dean!" You scream, looking up at the night sky. You felt a few rain drops on your face. "I can't keep doing this." Your voice cracked, with hurt.
You look over to see Dean leaning on his car with his arms crossed, "Why won't you tell me?" You say with a sniffle.
Dean 's eyes don't meet yours instead the meet the ground.
"Just say it Dean, please." You give the green-eyed man one last chance.
He lifts his head to look at you, "I can't-" he says his voice breaking.
You nod, slowly backing away from the man. You begin to walk down the darkened street.
"Where are you going!" Dean shouts.
Not responding you walk faster, the heels of your boots clicking on the road below you.
You gasp when you feel a hand on your arm. You freeze in your spot. You knew it was Dean, you could smell his cologne. You felt his breath on the back of your neck.
Dean spins you around to look at him. "Let me go Dean." You warn.
His eyes were soft. “You wanna know why I can't say it??
“Why.”
Dean huffs, “I’m scared Y/n I’m so fucking scared-“ he begins. You watch as Dean swallows hard. “I’m scared of loosing you-“ he says with a shaky breath. “Everything I love, eventually.. leaves me. Or- something worse. And I don’t want that happening you. I couldn’t live with myself if it did.”
Dean had a stray tear slip down his cheek, you reach your hand up to wipe it away.
Before you could reply, rain starts falling down on you both hard.
Your eyes never leaving Dean’s, “you’re not gonna loose me Dean, I’m not gonna let that happen.”
“How do you know?” Dean says.
Both of you were soaked with rain but you didn’t care.
“Because I love you, and I always know that you’ll be there to protect me, no matter what.” You say with a laugh. “You’re not gonna loose me Dean Winchester, cause I’m not going anywhere.”
Dean nods at your words, his tears were mixed with the rain. “I love you.” He says grabbing the back of your head, bringing your lips together.
Dean was the first to pull away. “I love you too.” You pull away from him and begin to dance in the rain.
“Dance with me!” You squeal jumping around.
Dean doesn’t leave you hanging for long he begins to swing you around and around.
He loved you. And you loved him. You couldn’t ask for anything more.🩷
🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️
Lmk if you’d liked to be added to my Dean tag list!!🩷🩷
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester comfort#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x you#dean winchester fic#supernatural dean#dean x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic
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Those Sunlit Kisses
part 2 here ! part 3 here! and part 4 here!
pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)
tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish
description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.
a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333
Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.
The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.
Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.
The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.
At least he was finally here.
Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.
She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.
Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen.
“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!”
She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.
So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.
Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.
Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.
They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.
Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.
The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.
But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.
So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.
The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.
He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.
Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.
After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.
Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.
Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn.
With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.
Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.
As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.
All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.
He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.
Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.
Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.
After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London.
She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.
Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.
It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.
The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.
Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.
Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.
Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard.
He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.
A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.
“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.
“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers.
“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.
“I’m Rosie.”
“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”
“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”
“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.
“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.
“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”
“A fighter pilot?”
“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”
“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him.
“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.
“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.
“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”
“That would be wonderful.”
Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.
Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.
The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.
“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.
Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.
Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.
“Rosie?”
“Hmm?”
“Water?”
“I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”
“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen.
“You have a great collection.”
“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.
“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”
“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.
“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”
“How bad?”
“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.
“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”
“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”
“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”
“I barely even know you-”
“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.
“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.
“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”
“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”
“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.
Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.
Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.
“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”
“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”
“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.
“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.
“That is what you got from that?”
“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”
“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”
“One day you will.”
“Will not.”
“Will.”
“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.
That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.
“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.
“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”
“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.
“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.
“Not at all.”
“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”
“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”
“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”
“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.
Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.
The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.
Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.
“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.
“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.
“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”
“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”
“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”
Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.
“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.
“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.
“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.
“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.
“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.
“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”
The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.
“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun.
“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”
“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”
“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”
“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces.
“Renata…”
“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”
“That sounds great.”
Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.
They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.
“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.
“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”
“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”
“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”
“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.
“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You can bet on it, Lucy.”
“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.
“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.
Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.
After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.
The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.
Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.
Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.
“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.
Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.
“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”
“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.
“I had some things at the B&B.”
“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?”
“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”
Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.
“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.
“Flirt.”
“You love it.”
“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.
Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.
“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”
Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.
“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.
“I’m an American, what can I say?”
“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.
“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.
“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.
“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”
“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.
“Do you have any plans for today?”
“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”
“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.
“You’re really going to make me say it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.
“Good, because I have no plans.”
“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.
“Hello there?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Do I?”
“Hmmm.”
“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”
“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.
“What are we doing, Rosie?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.
“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”
“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”
“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”
“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”
“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.
“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.
“Whatever you would like.”
“Does a picnic sound nice?”
“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.
“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.
“Do you really?”
“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.
“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”
“Rosie… you don’t have to.”
“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.
Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.
Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?
Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.
She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.
“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.
Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.
“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.
“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”
“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”
“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.
“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.
“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”
“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures.
Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.
She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.
“Thought we might need this.”
“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.
“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.
“You need to stop that.”
“What? Saying the truth?”
“Rosie…”
“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”
“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.
Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.
Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.
God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.
“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.
“You know almost everything about me, darling.”
“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”
“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”
“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Any dirty secrets.”
“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”
“Now that’s unfair.”
“It is not!”
They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.
“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”
Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.
They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while.
Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.
He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.
“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”
“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.
“It gets too much…”
“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”
“Birds of a feather.”
“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.
“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.
“You want the silly American to read to you?”
“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”
“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.
“Rosie.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.
Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.
It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.
“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”
“Why don’t you start it?”
“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.
“Do you think we should head back?”
“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”
“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?
“I hope we will, Rosie.”
Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.
“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.
“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”
“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.
“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”
Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.
“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”
Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.
He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.
Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.
When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.
Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.
“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”
“It can’t be that good.”
“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.
After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.
“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.
“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”
This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.
When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.
“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”
“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.
Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.
Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.
Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.
“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.
“Hmmm, good morning.”
“It is indeed.”
“You stayed.”
“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.
“What was that for?”
“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”
“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.
“Rosie…”
“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.
“What are you feeling like?”
“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.
“Fine, come on.”
Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.
“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.
“Of course.”
After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.
“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.
“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”
“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.
“Lucy… I-”
“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“You- you? You love me?”
“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”
“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”
Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.
“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.
“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.
Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.
They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.
Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.
“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.
The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.
“I need to get changed, Rosie.”
“Yeah?”
“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”
“I wouldn’t be complaining.”
“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”
“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door.
Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.
His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.
He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.
“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.
“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.
“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”
“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.
“I want to, now come.”
After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.
Dear Rosie,
I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.
You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.
I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.
All my love,
Lucy
With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.
“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”
“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.
“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”
“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”
“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”
“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.
“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”
“I know, but this is much more preferable.”
“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.
“Come on.”
Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.
Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.
“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.
It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.
She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.
“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.
“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.
The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.
“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”
“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”
“I’ll come back.”
“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.
“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”
“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.
“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.
“Promise me you’ll write.”
“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.
The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.
The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.
“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.
“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.
Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.
He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.
Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him.
“Crosby, I’m fine.”
“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”
“I met someone.”
“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.
“A girl.”
“You met a girl?!”
“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”
“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”
“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”
“It isn’t like that, Cros.”
“Sure. But did you?”
“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”
“There! You see, she loves you too right?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”
“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”
“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”
“Lucy Everett.”
part 2 part 3 part 4
so... thoughts? queries?
also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits
there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!
taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33
#rosie rosenthal#robert rosenthal#robert rosie rosenthal#masters of the air#mota#mota spoilers#mota fanfic#mota oc#masters of the air oc#masters of the air x oc#rosie rosenthal x oc#rosie x oc#robert rosenthal x oc#my ocs <3#harry crosby#nate mann#maria writes
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Kinktober | 01
≡ overstimulation | shang tsung x gn!reader * ˚ ✦
tw ➤ nsfw, smut, overstimulation, dubcon, term "pet" used, gender neutral
a/n: my first smut of this event! If I made any errors, feel free to leave a comment or send an inbox. I want to improve in writing so criticism is okay with me lol. Luv u
❥・*。You gasped at the overwhelming sensation Shang was giving you. Your legs draped upon his shoulders as he continued to relentlessly thrust into you. He has been teasing you and making you cum for god knows how long, but Shang had drowned you in praises and encouraged that you could handle more.
"C'mon my love, I know you can handle a few more." He grunted, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips. He too looked disheveled, his hair fallen amongst his shoulders.
"mmh- s'too much Shang!" You cried out. Your hands helplessly gripping the sheets. "Too good!"
He chuckled and raised a hand to wipe the tears from your eyes. "But you're being such a good boy/girl, you can take it."
You huffed at his response, your head growing dizzy from the burning sensation below. "F-fuckk." You begin to sputter incoherent words as he plunged himself into you.
Shang Tsung smirked and adjusted the angle, his palms guiding the back of your thighs closer to your chest.
"You look good like this pet." The new angle allowing him to bury himself deeper into your heat. You cried out in pleasure, the new angle pushing you to your climax once again. Your body went limp into his hands and he titled his head sadistically. "Oh? We just started, surely another won't hurt?" He cooed, brushing the strands of hair from your face.
The extent of your orgasm had left you breathless. "Too much..." You whimper again, praying he'd finally let you rest.
Shang let out a low laugh, his hips still bucking into your oversensitive heat.
"Good pet, such a good pet." He grunted as his thrusts finally grew sloppy. His hands were now placed beside your head to balance himself. You trembled, drool dripping down the edges of your mouth. Shang let out a low growl, his thrusts finally jerking to a stop. You bit back a moan, the feeling of his seed warming your insides. Your sex filled with his cum. It coated Shang's member and the insides of your thighs in such a mess from your many orgasms.
You thought Shang's pleasurable torture would end, however, the sudden feeling of his hips grinding again sent shockwaves through your body. The pleasure becoming too much for you to handle.
"Shang no more please!" You quickly begged, hands uselessly pushing against his chest.
He purred darkly and leaned down to the croon of your neck. "One more, my love. You can handle one more."
Your eyes shut tight as you begin to endure the burning pleasure. Shang was right, you could always handle whatever he'd given you. You belonged to him as did he. You loved him too much to say no.
╰┈➤ other kinktober 2023 mk1 works
#mk x reader#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat smut#shang tsung x reader#tw.dubcon#tw.dark content#tw.smut#mdni#kinktober 2023
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pairing || hobie brown × fem!spider woman!reader
summary || in your universe he's there, but not anymore and in his, you don't exist
note || this is short and antsy because I wanna try how you all like my hobie, so let's go. Reblog, comment and/or follow!!!
Your eyes scanned the room, heart-stopping once you saw someone…someone you’d never thought you’d see again, him, the love of your life.
A tear escaped your eye which you quickly wiped away, debating if you should go up to him and say something, anything, whatever your mind could think of. God, he looked just like the night you lost him.
“He’s not the Hobie you know,” a voice whispered, Miguel had laid a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts.
“But he’s right there, I can see, hear him, feel him, he’s real,” you pressed out, eyes watering even more. You didn’t want to believe Miguel, why shouldn’t this be your Hobie? No, he had to be lying.
Miguel sighed, it was nothing new to him as he felt the same when he saw another version with his daughter. Having to tell himself it’s not her, it’s not him.
You couldn’t grasp how this wasn’t your Hobie, wanting to go up to him, hug him and hear his voice again. Just once, only for a moment, but Miguel stopped you and his expression was filled with guilt, but why? It wasn’t his fault, “he doesn’t know you, in his universe you don’t exist,” god, he didn’t want to tell you, however, he needed to.
Nothing came from your lips, there wasn’t anything you could think of to say, body almost limb.
“Here you can be friends, maybe it will help you overcome your grief,” his words were meant to help you, and encourage you but all they did was hurt you further.
You couldn’t be with him in the way you wanted to, why was it not possible? It had to be possible. You wanted to scream by now, fall to your knees and let the tears stream down your cheeks, your feelings were too strong.
“Let me introduce you,” Miguel gave you a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath you followed him.
Miguel cleared his throat to gather the attention of everyone, "meet Spider-Moon," he introduced you. Hesitantly you stepped forward, everyone was looking at you, but your eyes were only on one person.
"Peter B. Parker, nice to meet you! So, your name is Spider-Moon, that one's new! How did you get it?" a Spider-Man with brown hair and a toddler? Started talking, sounding cheerful and welcoming.
However you were a bit taken aback by his manner, "because of my suit," you answered his question.
"I'm Hobie, nice meeting ya Moony," his voice smooth and deep, the accent that made you melt every single time. Then the nickname, by god you thought you weren't hearing it clearly but you did, your Hobie called you that too.
"What?" you asked, all color drained from your face. Hobie looked confused, and went to repeat his sentence when Miguel cut in, "let's move on."
"No, I gotta go," you quickly forced out and sprinted out of the room.
How could he not be your Hobie? Even the nickname was the same, it didn't make sense. Tears rolled down your cheek, you couldn't hold it together anymore, you had to let go. Maybe you couldn't be the hero you wanted to be after all.
"Everythin' alright Moony?"
remember my inbox is always open for any thots, ideas, news – literally anything
reblogs or comments are welcome!
#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown angst#hobie brown#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown x you#hobie brown x female reader#hobie brown fic#hobie brown fanfiction
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Hello, it's me (I've thought about you for a long long time)
Words: 1,023
Summary: Leon and y/n broke up a few months ago, but he can't bring himself to give up on their love.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, angst, angst with a happy ending
A/N: this is just a random little blurb I wrote. I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing, and so I just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to mind. I hope it's not awful lol
Leon was drunk when he showed up on your doorstep. His last text, unanswered in the inbox of your phone, rolls through your mind. As he looks up at you with tear filled eyes, you wished you’d answered him.
I've been doing better. Wanna see you again so bad.
You wonder why he’s here. If something hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t be here, like this - a fucking disaster all over again. It had just been too hard to answer his text. All of your friends told you to move on, to let him go. Your heart told you to let him back in, to be his home. Your mind was caught somewhere in between, knowing Leon’s life was unstable due to the work he could barely tell you about, but also knowing that when he was around you’ve never felt so close to anyone else.
“Told you I wanted to see you,” he slurs as he braces himself against the door frame, leaning forward slightly so his eyes are level with yours as you stand just inside the apartment. For a moment you wondered if he’d been meaning “see you” in the literal sense.
“I can smell the liquor– “ you trail off with a frown, and Leon’s smile brightens.
“I know, but it’s not like last time baby,” he promises. “I just got carried away celebrating.”
“Celebrating?”
He nods, “Just started my vacation.”
Your frown deepens and he realizes what you’re thinking, “No, no. I’m not staying drunk the whole time. I promise.”
“Then what are you planning to do?”
“Spend time with you,” he says bluntly. “If you’ll have me.”
He braves stepping closer, his hand going to your waist. You can feel his thumb stroke your gently, and you swear he breathes in the scent of you when he moves in.
“We can start over,” he whispers. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” you bite your lip as you look up at him.
“You’re so cute when you do that,” he mutters softly as his face lowers to yours. He presses a soft, sweet kiss on your cheek. “Can I come in, baby?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, we don’t have to do anything. I just want to be close,” he pleads. Leon never liked to beg. He’s always liked to maintain a cool facade, even if was just that: a facade. For you, he’d get on his knees right here in the hallway of your apartment building and beg if he had to. He’d even plead to the point of tears if that’s what it took. His brows furrow softly as he leans down closer to you. “Please, baby.”
How can you say no to that sweet face?
“Only because you asked so nicely,” you smirk before stepping aside to let him in.
As he walks into your apartment, he feels his chest go warm as the smell of your life fills his senses. You have a candle burning on the coffee table, and a cup of tea sits by an open book laying face down. It was a sight he’d grown used to back when you lived together. He’d come home to find you curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. He’d comment on the scent of whatever candle you had, and your eyes would light up when you would tell him the scent and where you got it.
“I like the new place,” he comments with a soft smile.
“Thanks,” you close the door and follow him as he looks around. You know he’s probably looking for hints that someone else has come to take his place. There’s nobody. You’d tried the dating apps and gave up quickly. Your friends tried to set you up, but there was always an excuse. You’d utter a lie, but know deep down it’s because they weren’t him. Nobody could ever occupy the space Leon had carved out in your life. When he’s content with his search, he turns back to you. You realize he wasn’t as drunk as you’d initially thought, and a wave of relief goes through you.
“So, are you still in the old place?” You ask as you sit down.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Haven’t been there very much since we…”
You nod, not wanting him to finish the sentence. The prospect of breaking up had been somewhat mutual, although neither of you had wanted it deep down. It’s just the only thing that seemed to quiet the fights that had begun to take place. Leon’s darkness had threatened to swallow him whole, and you were exhausted from trying to pull him out of it. An awkward silence falls over you, then Leon clears his throat.
“I know that I didn’t make it easy for you to love me,” he shuffles nervously on his feet. “If you want to say no I understand but…”
“But?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You toss the question around in your mind for a moment, then you nod slowly. He’s careful as he steps forward, his large hands gently cradle your face as he leans in. For a moment he pauses, searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation before kissing you sweetly. His lips move slowly, carefully against yours as though you haven’t shared at least a thousand kisses. He shudders when you place your hands on his waist, and you can feel the muscles twitch under his thin t-shirt.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but I do. I never stopped, not even for a second.”
“I love you too, Leon,” you swallow hard and let your hands drag along his body before wrapping your arms around him. You move closer, resting your head on his chest. He lets out a content sigh as he holds you close to him, his hand slowly moving up and down your back. His eyes flutter closed.
“We can work it out,” he whispers softly. “I’ll do anything.”
“Me too,” you look up and kiss him sweetly. This kiss is a promise. You’ll never leave him alone again.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon x reader#resident evil#resident evil x reader#🌟written in the stars#this is not edited at all
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omg can you write something about like how you and bf!sapnap would spend your birthday then how you both would spend his birthday too? i guess a mixture of fluff/smut whatever you feel like🥰
this has also been in my inbox for a while. this was really cute but i felt like it was rushed a bit. so im sorry.
anyway, enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list
on your birthday, bf!sapnap would let you wake up on your own. when you do wake up, he asks you what you want for breakfast. he doesnt actually cook anything but he orders you whatever you want.
"happy birthday baby," he'd tell you leaning down to give you a kiss. "what do you want for breakfast?"
bf!sapnap who has you open your after breakfast with dream and george.
bsf!dream and george who sing you happy birthday as loudly as they can with sapnap. they hold out a cupcake with a single candle. they hype you up so much and get way too excited when you blow out the candle.
bf!sapnap who takes you out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. both of you were dressed to the nines, eating food that matched the way you looked.
at the end of the night, bf!sapnap makes a post on Instagram dedicated to you. the first picture being one of the many pictures you guys took before having dinner, the second one was of you during dinner, the next few being of you two throughout your relationship. the nineth is a video of you them singing happy birthday to you with the cupcake. the last one being a video of you two dancing in the kitchen late at night. the caption being something along the lines of:
"Happy Birthday to Yn. The best thing that could have happened to me is meeting you. I'm so happy to he able celebrate your birthday with you. I love you."
bf!sapnap who was complimenting the entire night, throughout dinner, on the drive back home, in the comments of his post, when youre taking your clothes off as you get ready for bed.
"you look so good, baby," he tells you as he hugs you from behind. you scoff as you stand there in your underwear, shaking your head at your boyfriend.
"you've been saying that all night," you say with a smile.
"I feel like you just really needed to know, peaches."
on bf!sapnaps birthday, you seek out help from dream.
"you want my honest suggestion?" clay asks you. you nod. "he'll really just be fine with birthday sex-"
"fuck off," you groan, rolling your eyes.
clay laughs loudly, "okay, im kinda joking," you roll your eyes as he slowly regains his composure. "he would be happy doing anything with you or his family."
"we're in florida..."
"in which case you juat spend time with him... dumbass." you flip him off
bf!sapnap who you wake up the morning of his birthday with kisses all over his face. and with that, he woke up with a cute blushy grin.
"happy birthday, baby," you whisper with a smile.
"happy birthday, indeed."
bf!sapnap who returns all the kisses happily. he just woke up but all really wanted was you.
"mmph..." he moaned as he started kissing down your neck.
"I thought I was suppoaed to do this to you," you say breathily as he shifts to hover over you.
"i thought... i was the birthday boy," he said kissing down your body, "and could do what i want."
bf!sapnap who very excitedly eats you out and fucks you. sleep is still swimming through the both of you. but to you two, it was like heaven.
bf!sapnap who is smiling so hard when youre trying to catch your breath.
"best birthday gift, peach," he says drowsily, panting less and less, "thank you."
"that was all you, love," you pant out, trying to figore out what just happened.
i wrote this on paper, including this end note, and my handwriting looks like i was one of the fucking founding fathers 😭😭😭😭
anyway, this felt long enough. i hope you enjoyed. -nony
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thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.
Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.
She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.
They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!
also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.
And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.
thank you!!!
Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.
Characters - Joel Miller x Reader
Word Count - 8.7K
Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?
A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3
Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.
The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.
So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.
Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.
Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.
As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"
With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.
You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.
The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.
Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.
The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.
You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.
As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.
"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.
You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.
The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.
Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."
You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.
Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.
You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.
Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.
"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.
"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.
You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.
You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.
The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.
You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.
"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.
You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.
Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.
"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.
"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.
"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.
"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.
"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.
Two years later...
A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?
You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.
"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.
"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.
"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.
"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.
"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.
He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.
Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?
"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.
"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.
"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.
"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"
"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.
"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.
"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.
"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.
"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.
"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.
"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.
"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."
He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.
"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.
"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.
"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.
This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.
You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.
So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.
At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.
He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.
It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.
But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.
You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.
The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.
"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.
"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.
He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."
Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.
"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.
"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.
"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.
"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.
"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.
"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.
Three years later...
It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.
Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.
It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.
At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.
You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.
So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.
With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.
"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.
Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.
"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.
"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.
"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.
"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.
"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.
"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.
"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.
"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.
The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.
As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.
On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.
At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.
"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.
"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.
You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.
"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.
"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.
"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.
Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.
In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.
"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.
"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.
"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.
"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.
What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.
Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.
And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.
You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.
You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.
"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.
"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.
"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.
"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.
"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.
She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.
"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.
"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.
"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.
"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.
"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"
"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.
"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.
"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.
With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.
Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.
You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.
You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?
You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.
"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.
"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.
"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.
It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.
It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.
You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.
"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.
"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.
"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.
"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.
When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.
The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.
"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.
"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.
"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.
"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.
As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.
A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.
You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.
You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.
Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.
Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.
You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.
"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.
You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.
You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.
But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.
Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.
You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.
"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.
"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.
You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."
"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."
"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.
"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.
"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.
"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.
"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.
She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."
"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.
You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.
What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?
You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.
The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.
Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.
"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.
You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.
"No," you respond curtly.
"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?
You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.
You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.
As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.
You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.
"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.
"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.
Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.
"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.
"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.
"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.
"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.
"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.
"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.
"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.
You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.
"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.
"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.
"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.
"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"
You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.
"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.
"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.
Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"
"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.
"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.
"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.
"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.
A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.
"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."
"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.
As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.
"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.
"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.
A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.
Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.
Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."
Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.
In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.
Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.
#joel x reader#Joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x f!reader#joel miller#ellie wili#joel and ellie#joel x you#joel x y/n#Pedro pasca#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#tlou fic#fic request#mylostloversbookmarks
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Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-Three: E Pluribrus Unum (Bonus Scene)
Author: @harringtonstilinski
Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC)
Word Count: 3,169
Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, steve getting his ass kicked, steve and robin being drugged, italics is steve hearing liv's commentary, tiniest bit of foreshadowing 👀 ?, non-canon hallucinations (not mentioned in story after this),
Smut: no | yes;
A/N: Hi, friends! Y'all voted for a bonus scene, and I'm here to deliver! Main focus is Steve and Robin's scenes. If you like this bonus scene, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
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Steve’s Pov
As soon as Liv, Dustin and Erica were out of sight, Robin and I were flung through the air to the wall next to us at the door being shoved open. Once we got our bearings, we raised our hands, Russian guards standing in front of us with their guns drawn. Ahh, crap.
They hauled us to our feet, essentially dragging us to separate rooms. My only thought as they kept asking me questions and punching me when I gave them my answers was that I was super glad Liv wasn’t here to hear or witness this. She’d be losing her shit.
As they punched me in the face, yet again, I groaned in pain, again thankful that Liv wasn’t here to try and kick the shit out of these Russian assholes. After we confessed our love to each other, my need to protect her increased tenfold. I’m sure her need increased, as well.
Feeling blood dripping from my mouth, I groaned, “That one stung,” before gasping for air.
What I’m guessing is the main head honcho for these buttwipes asked, “Who do you work for?”
“For the millionth time, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” Bringing my head up, I breathed out, “Scoops Ahoy,” doing my best to gear up for the next hit to the face… that didn’t happen. That hit went to my stomach, a pained groan coming from my throat before I yelled out, “What the hell?! ”
Bending over, I said, “Look at my outfit! Look at my outfit! My girlfriend might think it’s hot, but look at it! You think I just wear this?! Think I’m a spy in a sailor’s uniform?” Another punch to the stomach.
I can hear Olivia now saying, “You assholes! I’m gonna kill you!” or “I’ll take his place!” while struggling against another guard.
With a stone face, the head honcho asked with an uninterested tone, “How did you get in?”
Gasping for breath, I was bent over as I grunted, “I already told you,” before sitting up to say, “I told you before.” I gasped for air again, hearing Liv’s voice in my head saying, “Lie again,” before repeating my words from earlier. “My delivery didn’t come, and my friends and I, we thought that it was left at the loading dock, so we went into the room, and it tuuurrrrned into an elevator, and then…”
“You have to be a better liar, Steven,” her voice said.
“And then we dropped and then next thing we know, I open my eyes and we’re in this… wonderful facility.”
“Oh my god. Shut up, Steve.”
“But I swear to God, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You could just let us go, alright? And I’m not gonna tell anybody about this, okay? Shit happens, life goes on. And uhh… ice-ice cream. Ice cream, okay? You guys know what ice cream is.”
“They’re Russians, not aliens from space, Steven!”
“Everybody loves ice cream. I don’t know if you have Russian ice cream or if that’s considered gelato-”
“That’s Italians, Steve!”
“I don’t know what’s what, but whatever you guys want, seriously. USS Butterscotch, I mean, you gotta try it. It’s out of this world, I’m telling ya!”
Head honcho and the guy that was repeatedly hitting me just started… laughing? So, I joined in, as well. More nervously, of course.
“I like this guy!” Head honcho said. “USS… Butterscotch.” He laughed again, it turning into a chuckle as he bent down a little, resting his hands on his knees.
All I could do was look at him nervously, scared for what was to come next as the room fell quiet.
“Who do you work for?” he enunciated.
Well, shit. “Oh, come on,” I all but whined, eyeing the other guard. “No, no! No, seriously!”
Black was the very next thing that I saw as that douchebag hit me in the face… yet again.
~~~
I don’t remember much else after literally being knocked out, but what I do remember next was waking up to Robin’s voice calling out for help.
“Hey,” I said, groggily. “Would you stop yelling?”
I could feel her relief from just hearing my voice as she said, “Steve! Oh, my god!” before panting out my name. She was leaning back as I was leaning forward as she asked, “Are-are you okay?”
“My ears are ringing, I can barely breathe, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, and Liv’s voice is running through my head, but ya’know, apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”
“Well, the good news is that they’re calling you a doctor,” Robin said.
“Jesus, you two are idiots.”
I looked around the room, which looked liked a… ya’know, a doctors room. “Is this his place of work? I love the vibe.” Robin chuckled as I added, “Charming.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. So, okay,” she said. “Do you see that table over there to your right?”
I turned my head to the left. Don’t ask why.
“Babe. Your other left.”
“No, your other right,” Robin said.
Turning my head to my correct right, she added, “Yeah, okay. Do you see those scissors?”
“Uh-huh,” I confirmed.
“Yeah, well, I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap.”
Picking up what she was putting down, I said, “And I could cut the binds.”
“Yeah, and we could get out of here.”
“Gotcha. Okay, yeah, we can do that.”
“Yeah.”
“Those morons. They left scissors in here?” I asked, turning my head side to side.
“Yeah, morons,” Robin added.
“Total morons,” I added to my own statement, adding with determination, “Okay.”
“Okay, so, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”
“O-okay, good, hop on three. I gotcha.”
“Alright. One.. two.. three.”
We both hopped towards the table, a little happy that this plan was actually working. Robin and I counted to three again, our excitement building at the fact that we were almost to the table… and I was almost to the point where I could hug and kiss my girl again.
Counting to three again, we hopped for a third time… only for our fucking luck to bite us in the ass because we ended up falling, our heads towards the table, our feet towards the door.
Robin and I both groaned at our heads and arms hitting the ground before I heard her crying.
“A bunch of fucking geniuses.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Robin.” Instead of hearing her cry, I heard her… laughing? “Are you laughing?”
She laughed harder before saying, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”
“We’re not gonna die,” I reassured. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Liv wouldn’t let us die anyway. She’d kill every single Russian down here before they could kill us. Just– you gotta let me just think for a second.”
It was quiet for a moment, my thoughts running through my brain before Robin asked, “Do you remember, uhm, Mrs. Click’s sophomore History class?”
I lifted my head, shaking it a little before asking with an annoyingly curious tone, “What?”
“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity,” she said. “That’s what us band dweebs called her.”
Sighing, I pressed my forehead into the floor, remembering when I was an asshole to everyone, the guilt eating at me in this moment.
“It was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late.”
Even though we weren’t as close during that time, Liv had ended up scolding me more than a few times for always being late. “Goodness, Harrington. Don’t you own a fucking watch?”
“And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon, egg and cheese on a sesame bagel.”
“I know we’re not close anymore, but you could still bring me a freaking sausage McMuffin!” Since Liv scolded me the last time, every Tuesday and Thursday she’d find a Sausage McMuffin in her locker.
“I sat behind you, two days a week for a year,” Robin said. “Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Liv being your Queen.”
“Ugh! Don’t bring that up!”
“Do you even remember me from that class?”
“No.”
I didn’t know what to say because… well, I didn’t remember her. I didn’t care about anyone else or anything during high school. Other than the girls I’d bang, being in basketball and on the swim team, or being with Nancy… or being friends with Liv again.
Robin’s chuckle brought me out of my thoughts before she said, “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, ya’know that?”
Feeling incredibly bad, I said sadly, “Yeah, I know.”
“The biggest asshole, babe.”
“But it didn’t even matter,” Robin continued. “It didn’t even matter that you were an ass. I was still… obsessed with you.”
I could hear Liv’s scoff as she said, “Everyone was.”
“Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular… accepted, normal.”
“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” I said, sniffling. “Seriously. Liv can tell you that… even though she… didn’t grow up the same as me.” Taking a deep breath, I sighed it back out as I said, “It just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just…” I lightly chuckled before adding, “...bullshit. But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?”
“I hope so. I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.”
We both chuckled, a smile crossing my face for the first time since yesterday.
“Yep,” I agreed, a small smile on my face.
“At least it can’t get any more messed up than this,” Robin said.
“Ya’know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Really. I do.”
“Olivia humbled you,” Robin whispered.
“Yeah. She did.” I smiled a little, thinking of my girlfriend and how grateful I am of her. How happy I am that she gave me a thump on my head when I needed it most. “Maybe you both could’ve helped me pass the class. Maybe instead of being here, Liv and I’d be on our way to college right now.”
“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet, and I would happily be slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”
We chuckled, I guess because we’ve accepted our fate.
“Gotta say, though,” I said. “I liked being your schmuck.”
“Uhm, hello?!”
I chuckled lightly at hearing Liv’s commentary in my head. “So did Liv. It was fun while it lasted.”
“It was.”
Our come to Jesus meeting was over at the sound of the buzzer and door opening. We looked up, seeing the Head Honcho walk in with three other people… and then he chuckled.
“Where were you two going?” he asked, brows raised and arms out to his side for a moment.
“Ugh! Just go somewhere, asswipe. You’re kind of annoying.”
He clicked his tongue before the two guards lifted us up, setting the chairs back on their feet. I could see it now; Head Honcho holding Liv back, struggling to get out of his arms. “Don’t you fucking touch them, Russian bastard!”
Head Honcho bent in front of me again as I felt Robin’s head leaning on my neck as he asked, “Try telling the truth this time, yes?”
“He is, you ignorant freak!”
“It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful,” he continued, stroking the side of my face.
Again, I could see Olivia struggling in my mind, yelling at the doctor. “Don’t fucking touch him, you sick bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”
Touching a sore on my chin, I winced, once again, seeing Liv in my mind struggling against the guard, her hair all around her face as she cried in sadness and anger. Head Honcho chuckled again before nodding once to the doctor.
I turned my head to watch him walk around me, a big ass needle in his hand, with blue liquid inside of a small vile. Fear started showing through as I looked at it, saying, “Wait a sec, wait. Hold on. Okay! Wait, wait, wait! What is that thing?”
The ‘doctor’ was standing next to me with the needle gun thing as he said, “It will help you talk.” He grabbed my hair and tilted my head to the side.
“Did you even clean that thing?!” I yelled, before screaming at the needle being punctured into my neck, the liquid seeping into my veins.
~~~
After they had done the same thing to Robin, Head Honcho and his pack of bastards left the room, leaving Robin and I by ourselves for a moment. What was weird was that I couldn’t still see Liv, but not hear her in my mind anymore, my brain feeling more fuzzy than ever, almost like I’d smoked a joint.
Robin moved her head against mine a few times, as I just stared at a spot on the wall, seeing Liv every now and again as she paced in front of me. “I’m gonna kill them. I’m gonna fucking kill them.”
“Honestly, I don’t really feel anything,” I said. “Do you?”
“Really, Steven?”
“I mean, I… I feel fine,” Robin replied. “I feel normal.”
“Yeah, I feel-I feel fine,” I agreed, before slurring, “I kinda feel good,” before we both chuckled.
I wish I could say I actually felt Liv’s hands on my cheeks, but in my mind… I did. “Steve. You’re high as a fucking kite. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t say anything.”
“Wanna know a secret?” Robin asked.
“What?” I asked.
“I like it, too! And I’ve been seeing and hearing Liv!”
“Me, too!” I said, laughing.
“I feel good.”
“Morons! They messed up the drug.”
“Oh… my god.”
“They messed it up!”
As Robin leaned her head back, I tilted mine forward. “Morons,” she said.
Robin and I looked at the door as I loudly said, “Morons!”
“Hey, morons!”
“Moron! Mor–” she said at the same time I said, “Hey!”
“Whoa-oh!” I was still smiling and laughing, closing my eyes for a moment.
“Oh, no. There’s definitely something wrong with us.”
Amused, I said, “Somethin’s wrong.”
“Ya’think! Fucking idiots.”
That damn door buzzer sounded again, but I kind of didn’t care because of how good I felt as the Head Honcho and the Doc walked into the room. What did grab my attention was watching Head Honcho walking around Robin and I on her side just for him to stop and stand in front of me.
I turned my head after looking at him for a moment, watching the Doc mess with his bag at the table. Whatever he sets down makes Robin chuckle a little as he grabs a freaking medical bone saw from his bag.
“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?” Robin asked.
The image of Olivia hastily walking around to Robin flashed in my mind, her hushed voice saying, “Robin, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll send you to the Upside Down for a full-ass week!”
“Let’s try this again, yes?” Head Honcho said.
I licked the inside of my tongue, feeling to see if it was still there as I nodded and murmured out something while nodding my head.
Without missing a beat, he asked, “Who do you work for?”
“Scoops,” I said, looking at a random spot as Robin chuckled, my own joining. “Scoops Ahoy.”
Robin’s giggles were quiet as he asked, “How did you find us?”
I looked up at him, saying without missing a beat, “Totally by accident,” before lightly laughing… again.
He said something in Russian as I looked down for a moment, picking my head back up at the sound of something being open and closed, the Doc making his way back to us. “What is that shiny little toy?”
“Where are you going with that, Doc?” Robin asked.
Even in my high as a kite state, fear jumped through my body as he brought the clipper looking things to my fingers, grabbing onto my fingernail. “Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Wait! No! Wait! Wait!”
“There was a code! There was a code! We heard a code!” Robin shouted as I jumped and tried to get away from the Doc.
“Code,” Honcho said, walking around to Robin. “What code?”
“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. Blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day! You think you’re so smart, but a couple of kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day, and now, people know you’re here.”
“Who knows we’re here, suchka?”
“Uh, well Dustin and Olivia know,” I said, looking off into space.
“Shut. The fuck. Up.”
“Hey, Steve?” Robin said.
“Yeah, Dustin and Olivia, the Henderson’s, they know.”
“Steve!”
“Dustin and Olivia Henderson,” Honcho said, walking around to stand in front of me. “Is this your small, curly-haired friend? As well as your short, curly-haired girlfriend?”
“Oh, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kinda like a ‘fro, yeah,” I said.
“Where are they?”
“Oh, they’re long gone, you big asshole.” Little did I know. “And they’re probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US Calvary. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.” With the drugs in my system, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” I said, matter-of-factly, before Robin and I laughed, Honcho joining in.
It all stopped at the sound of an alarm going off, all of our heads turning to the door. At the sound of Russian’s yelling, I turned back to Honcho and shrugged my shoulders, as if I were telling him told ya so.
Honcho left the room, telling the Doc to stay put… I guess. I don’t know. I don’t speak Russian. A couple of minutes went by before the door slammed opened, Dustin charging through with a zapping device, putting it against the Doc’s chest.
Olivia and Erica walked in after him, my eyes following all of them before landing on Liv’s, seeing her stand between Dustin and Erica, her eyes on the doc that fell to the ground. She turned to face me, seeing my eye bruised and swollen.
“Hey! Henderson!” I said, excitedly. “That’s… crazy, I was just talking about you.”
Sighing, Liv undid the bonds that were around my arms, hands and legs before putting her hand on my cheek. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, my god,” Robin said.
“Get ready to run!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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A/N 2: hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3
Additional Note: not doing normal tags at the bottom since this is just a bonus scene.
~~~
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~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.
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Posted on April 4, 2024
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SFW Grusha fic, could we have him with a burnt out champion s/o? Like the s/o has been utterly overworking themself and choosing their pokemon's wellbeing over theirs?
Bro let's go; burnt out reader. I'm sure 90% of us have dealt with serious burn out and it sucks ass.
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SFW Grusha: Burnt Out
"So this is it? You're just quitting?" Grusha asked, as you hummed. The bags under your eyes had never been so prominent in your life; you let out a huge yawn, as you looked over at Grusha. You were just hanging out when you decided to tell him the news.
"Yup, I'm all done. I don't think I can do it anymore. I might battle on occasion, but...I'm kinda just...done." You admitted. You had been one of the youngest champions in the region, and with that came a lot of responsibility.
Nobody told you becoming a Champion meant that you'd be doing so much league work. You were always running around for the Chairwoman, going form gym to gym to test their strength, or even dealing with random disturbances. Free time was lost on you...hell most of your childhood and early twenties were now lost. That isn't even taking account for your team...
"You can't just quit..." Grusha grumbled, getting a bit pissed, "I thought you loved battling."
"I do...I really do but...Grusha how many gym challengers do you face every week?" You asked, turning to him.
"Maybe two a week, sometimes three. During the Treasure Hunt I can get up to ten a week." Grusha said and you hummed.
"Wanna know what I did yesterday?" You asked and he was quiet, "Seven black crystals popped up. Nemona was busy, so I had to go across half the region to take them down. Took twelve hours. My team is still sleeping." You commented.
"You took down...seven of them?" Grusha asked.
"Orders from the Chairwoman. Next week I'm going to all the gyms to fight everyone. I got a solid three days to fight all of you guys. Then the week after, I need to check in on the training camps. The chairwoman told me this morning, that tomorrow I need to deal with one of the titans that's acting up, so gotta deal with that as well." You explained. Grusha was silent for a few moments.
"What about Nemona?" Grusha asked and you shrugged.
"She's got her own things going on. Especially since she's leaving the region soon, so she can try her hand at Galar's gym challenge. Once she's gone I can only imagine the workload I'll be receiving." You said with a huff.
"What about a vacation then? Set some boundaries with the chairwoman as well. You and your team are burnt out." Grusha said; finally understanding. When he used to do snowboarding professionally, there were a few times that he debated quitting for the same reasons. He loved it, but everything got to be too much.
"Think that'll work?" You asked, turning to him.
"La Primera isn't ruthless...I don't think. She's just capable of lots of work and expects that of everyone else. She probably doesn't realize what she's doing." Grusha finally said.
"Man...she's gonna turn me into Larry 2.0 at this rate." You chuckled and Grusha groaned, hitting your side.
"Don't even joke about that." Grusha said, a bit annoyed, "I can't be seen with someone so lame."
"Whatever...fine...I'll ask her for vacation as well as work condition changes...but you're coming with." You said, as you decided you'd be doing that right now.
"Wait...why?" Grusha said, eyes widening a fraction.
"It was your idea, obviously. Now let's go!"
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!
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twenty.
ranger!nanami kento x psychic gym leader!reader, pokemon au, wc: 1,400
this is the final chapter of the series! thank you to everyone who has read, left comments, sent their thoughts to my inbox. it means so much to me! and of course, thank you to @strawberrystepmom for inspiring this series and for being so sweet to me always! 💜
Yuji and Nanami are in the infirmary while you meet in the living room with the mysterious woman. She stands by the tall window with her back to you, letting the sunlight warm her skin.
“Sukuna said something to me,” you start. When she doesn’t respond, you continue. “He said I was supposed to be the shield for this realm. What did he mean by that?”
She heaves a large sigh. She doesn’t turn to you, but continues to stare out into the garden as she speaks.
“Psychics are the only known persons who are born naturally with the same abilities as their Pokémon counterparts,” she explains. “Some think it’s an evolutionary mutation, and others believe it’s a blessing bestowed by the heavens. Whatever the case, you were the first psychic to ever be born.”
“That’s…” Your brow furrows. “But my grandmother was a psychic.”
“Your soul has been reincarnating for millions of years.” She finally turns to face you. Her gaze lands on you, warm and patient. “In your first life you conquered a strong adversary and were then chosen to keep humanity safe.”
“Was that adversary Sukuna?”
“No.” Her eyes shift to the side, softly glazing over as if she’s gone back in time. “Though he was in a later life. He wanted power like yours, and he made it happen. But he always knew that defeating you would be the ultimate test of his strength.”
“I didn’t…know. No one told me. If they did I wouldn’t have left Sabrina’s gym.”
“Sabrina?” Her gaze returns to you. “Was she your guide?”
“She was my mentor.”
“Was she good to you?”
“She was very strong and knew a lot, but she was really…intense.” You walk toward the chair by the window and take a seat, avoiding her questioning look. “I, uh, left after a few years and went off on my own.”
“You are assigned a new guide in every life,” she says easily. “Some are good fits, and others aren’t.”
You glance up at her and she shrugs.
“Not that I’m not grateful,” you shift in your seat, angling yourself toward her, “but why did you help us against Sukuna?”
“You and I have met before.” She chuckles at the surprise in your face. “About a thousand years ago you were originally tasked to defeat him, but like now, you were not fully capable of harnessing your power. So, the task fell to me. But I could not destroy him. Instead I sealed him away. Now, every thousand years or so I search for his vessel and reinforce the seal when needed.”
You nod at her explanation, fascinated. It’s so strange to be told about a past you can’t remember. But, clearly, she remembers it all.
“He called you his Queen,” you say.
“We were young when we first fell in love. He was very handsome, and strong, and ambitious.” A somber expression paints her features. “I didn’t realize what he was becoming until it was too late. My love for him blinded me, and many paid the price with their lives.”
“What you did with the fire…how is that possible? You said only psychics are naturally born with a Pokémon’s abilities. Was Sukuna the same?”
“He claimed to have discovered a ritual that could harness the essence of a fire type Pokémon. I didn’t believe him until the first time I saw him shoot an arrow made entirely of flame out of his hand. He asked me to also undergo the ritual so that we could be equals and live together for eternity. I didn’t know at the time that the exchange for performing the ritual was to exchange your soul.”
“So, he lied to you.”
“I forgave him for deceiving me,” she admits. “I loved him. And as long as we could be together it didn’t matter in the end.”
The two of you stay silent for a long minute. You contemplate her words and wonder if you’d ever feel a love so strong you’d be willing to do whatever it took to stay together. Your eyes cut to the door, the one that leads to the hallway that’s adjacent to the infirmary. Perhaps you’re closer to it than you think.
“So what happens now?” you ask, pulling yourself out of you thoughts.
“The danger is gone. For now,” she says. “He will return, but your current life will be long over by then. But that doesn’t mean other dangers won’t appear. Keep learning. Don’t be afraid of your power. I was able to help you here, but next time I might not.”
“I understand.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy your life.” She walks the length of the room. Her head craning up to examine the crown molding where the walls meet the ceiling. “This is quite an impressive gym, but it’s become more of a cage for you, hasn’t it?”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“Here and there. I had to keep an eye on things.” She speaks so casually. It both fascinates and riddles you with many questions. “You have many friends. Good friends. You should visit them more often.”
Before you can respond she’s already heading toward the door, waving a poised hand over her shoulder. Departing as swiftly as she arrived.
As soon as you step into the infirmary Yuji shoots out of bed and wraps his arms around you. Nurse Aurora pleads with the boy that he needs to be resting, but as soon as the first sob escapes him there are no more protests.
One of your arms snakes around his shoulders while the other smooths the back of his head until he settles down. After a few minutes, Yuji pulls away and wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Thank you for helping me,” he says.
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t know what was happening.” Yuji frowns. His usually bright eyes are dim. “I didn’t know he was in there until it was too late. I couldn’t stop him. And when I almost hurt you…”
“Hey. You didn’t hurt me.” Your hands stay on his shoulders, forcing him to face the assurance of your gaze. “You didn’t hurt anyone. It’s over now. Okay?”
His eyes are still misty when he nods. Nurse Aurora leads him back to the bed. You stand beside Nanami as she performs a few diagnostic tests on him. You and Nanami quietly observe, your hands brushing against the other until, finally, enough courage is gathered between the two of you to intertwine your fingers.
Yuji is splashing in the shallow edge of the lake with Espeon, Zorua, and Lucario while you and Nanami watch from where you lounge on the checkered blanket spread out on the grass. A small ice box filled with cold drinks and sweet treats sits at one corner. Nanami lays on his side facing you while reading a book, and you’re sitting up, leaning back on your hands, while you soak up the sun and enjoy the sounds of merriment coming from the water.
“I’m thinking of taking a trip,” you tell Nanami.
“Oh?” He looks up from his book. “Where to?”
“Opelucid City.” You turn your head down to look at him. “There’s someone waiting for me there.”
“That’s quite a journey.” His hand reaches out to pinch the hem of your shirt between two fingers. “You’ll be gone for some time.”
“I will.” Pausing, you consider your next words. He’s been kinder to you the last few days. But what if that’s only because of Yuji? Now that the danger has passed, what does that mean for you and Nanami? Despite your uncertainty, you add, “But…maybe on my way back I can stop by Olivine City.”
“Yuji would like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Nanami’s lips curve ever so subtly. “And…I would like that as well.”
You place your hand over his, turning it over so that your palms rest against each other’s and your fingers slot perfectly between his. You stare at your joined hands. Your mind is at ease knowing even when you’re both different than when you first knew each other, you’re somehow still the same. You look up to meet his warm gaze and your stomach flutters.
Nanami tightens his hold. Warmth flares within your chest as hope takes root.
This is the second chance you’ve both been waiting for.
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