#linked all the chapters in there as well just to make it Complete
Text
summary >> following vincent and vitali's full recovery after the arasaka chapter, a new threat takes the stage in night city; the broker, a powerful fixer who targets other fixers and seems to have vitali lined up in their sights
warnings >> brainwashing mention, death mention, family, injury mention, torture mention, violence
It’s April 2078. Vincent has made a full recovery from Soulkiller and Vitali is no longer under the influence of Arasaka’s brainwashing technology. Following the very stressful events of all of 2077, he had to get surgery on his leg, and as a result has to walk with a cane for the time being while he recovers. Business has gone back to normal and he’s picked up his duties as a fixer full time now, and Vincent works for him as a mercenary.
However, this all changes when one of Vitali’s cargo transports is under attack, leaving his mercenaries injured and his cargo taken. They manage to trace the attack back to the Broker, a fixer who has been around for a while already and has been busy targeting other fixers; however, they now seem to have targeted Vitali specifically, as this is not the first violent encounter with their mercenaries.
To top it all off, the Broker’s mercenaries seem to have connections with Vitali. Many of them used to be part of Vitali’s network, but left when he skipped town with Vincent to find a cure for his condition after getting rid of Johnny Silverhand. It worries Vitali, to now see them with the Broker instead; but there is not much he can do about it, and instead he decides to focus on revealing the fixer’s identity.
Soon enough, yet another attack happens- on Vitali’s office no less, in his absence. Mikhail is taken by Edward Keizer, better known as Ravager, an ex-Maelstrom mercenary of the Broker. Mikhail is tortured by Ravager’s people and rescued by Vitali and Vincent after a couple of days, but the whole situation leaves everyone shaken. Vincent voices his concern to Vitali and urges him to make a move, but Vitali rather wants to focus on keeping his friends safe and uses an example from his past to explain to Vincent why acting too rash won’t get them anywhere.
But Vincent can’t sit still. Two weeks pass in which he, behind Vitali’s back, looks into Ravager and ends up launching a solo attack on his factory. It backfires and Vincent is captured, after which Vitali attempts to free him; but it ends up being a trap and many of Vincent’s friends end up captured as well. They see each other again when the Broker’s right hand man, Ivan Dupoint, enters the scene; he challenges Vincent to a rigged game of chess, with his friends at stake.
Vincent wins and his friends walk free, but he himself is forced to stay. After a few days he’s rescued and Vitali manages to capture both Ravager and Dupoint as well, and he brings them to his office for further interrogation.
However, Vitali’s interrogation attempts soon turn sour when the remnants of Arasaka’s brainwashing technology begin to act up again. It puts him in a passenger seat in his own body, leaves him running on autopilot until he snaps out of it; and most of the time he is unaware of what happened while in that mode. He is desperate to figure out the Broker’s identity, still convinced it will make the situation easier to deal with; but his fear of losing control again and once again fully being under Arasaka’s control instead leaves him terrified and exhausted, to the point he starts having nightmares.
Another problem he is dealing with at this point is the Council. The collaboration of fixers was created to keep the innocent people of Night City safe and he has been part of it for a long time now; though they continue to see this as a city-wide issue rather than acknowledge Vitali is being singled out, and only a few of them take the Broker seriously. Vitali is starting to run low on resources following all the raids on his office and his cargo transports, and especially now that most of his other business with clients has been halted; but despite it all he keeps going, refusing to let any of it get to him.
Dupoint ends up giving Vitali a location and Vitali pays it a visit with Huxley and Lauren. They find what seems to be an empty mansion, but while investigating the Broker’s office, a woman enters the room; Nadya Dobrynina, Vitali’s mother, effectively confirming to Vitali that his father, Matvey Dobrynin, is the Broker.
Vitali knows exactly why Matvey is angry. After Vitali was fired from Arasaka some years ago, apparently Matvey and Nadya were fired as well; Arasaka no longer wanted the name Dobrynin to stain their ranks, and Matvey ended up blaming Vitali for losing his job. He became obsessed with his son, to the point he became a fixer himself and picked up Vitali’s mercenaries the moment Vitali left for Arizona; only to then turn them against him, and attack him like he’s been doing with other fixers (to bring order back to Night City, as he claims so himself) but now singling him out.
After coming face to face with his mother, Vitali runs away and gets drunk in a club somewhere, then somehow finds his way to Viktor’s shop and he breaks down here. Viktor briefly speaks to him and then brings him home to Vincent and Mikhail.
The next day, Mikhail returns to the mansion to investigate further; it is empty now, but they find evidence of Vitali’s sister Roksana having lived there as well- and for some reason, they find a picture of Mikhail in her bedroom, much to everyone’s surprise. She has always been weirdly obsessed with Mikhail ever since they were all younger and Mikhail would often be around to hang out with Vitali; but neither of them had expected her to still be like that.
Vitali once again interrogates Dupoint and the man tells him he will bring Vitali to his father. They thoroughly plan their attack on the Broker’s hideout, but once they execute it everything goes wrong; and Vitali comes face to face with his father, who mocks and belittles his failed attack and then promptly fires a gun in Mikhail’s direction. The bullet misses him, but it could have easily killed him; and after that, Matvey allows them to leave.
Vitali returns to the hideout the next day, though unsure why. He feels horrible for what has happened and begins to spiral very quickly now, no longer knowing how to deal with the situation and not understanding why his father didn’t just kill him when he had the chance. He interrogates Ravager again, looking for answers, but all he ends up with is more questions when the man suddenly drops Nadya’s name in the conversation; Vitali has never mentioned her around Ravager at all, and he wonders how he knows about her.
Vitali believes he can still talk some sense into his father and decides to reach out to his brother, Daniil, who seems to have nothing to do with the situation. Daniil visits Vitali’s office and they have a conversation about the Broker and Daniil’s history with Kang Tao; but none of it matters, since Daniil refuses to help Vitali like he has always done and ends up leaving. It at least confirms to Vitali that Daniil has nothing to do with any of it, and in a way it gives him closure with his sibling; something he hadn’t been able to get before, since he had left home aged 18 and had not been able to reestablish contact with his family members.
Not long after his brother’s visit, tragedy strikes once again. Matvey has unleashed his mercenaries on Night City and they’re wreaking havoc in the streets, attacking fixers and mercenaries alike- and some of them have already ended up dead. Vitali is still desperately trying to convince the Council it’s the Broker’s doing, but they once again refuse to listen to him or help him.
Vitali suits up and joins forces with Viktor and Vincent to confront Matvey, in an abandoned warehouse that seems to be used as a temporary safehouse. However, upon confronting him it is surprisingly easy to get him to stop the attacks, and the three meet up with some of Vitali’s mercenaries at a rendezvous.
Here, it finally becomes clear what Matvey is after. Now that his mercenaries have hit the news, the Council is finally looking into the source; but they’re tracing the attacks back to Vitali considering many of the mercenaries used to be part of his network, and especially considering his history with Arasaka this is not looking good for him.
Matvey claims Vitali took everything from him; and in return, rather than killing him, he is trying to take everything from Vitali too.
Following the city-wide attack, some time passes. Vitali reaches out to the Council and attempts to convince them once again he is not behind all of this, and for now they seem to believe him; though it will take more to fully get them back on his side.
Weeks go by and Matvey seems to have vanished off the face of the earth for the time being. Vitali is not complaining and uses the time wisely to pick up some business and get his office running again. He allows his mercenaries to take some rest and tries to do damage control where he can, while also taking it easy himself for a bit.
With this new knowledge about what his father is trying to do, Vitali has a much clearer view of the situation he’s found himself in. He is still unsure how to handle it; at the end of the day Matvey is still his father, and especially considering how he had acted in their last encounter Vitali finds himself having hope, still, despite it all.
He starts to feel better, no longer plagued by nightmares or constantly on the brink of either passing out from exhaustion or being put in the passenger seat in his body again. He has realized that trying to control himself by letting out his anger in the way he’s been doing thus far isn’t helping him anymore and in fact only makes things worse; instead, he is now trying to focus more on the people around him and talking to them, or asking for help when he needs it. He has always acted out of love and out of care for his loved ones; by focusing on this rather than his anger towards those who have wronged him, he can control himself a lot better without the risk of going on autopilot.
Vitali knows he finds himself in the eye of the storm. Matvey is still out there, as well as his mother and sister; and he still hasn’t figured out their role in all of this, and he still hasn’t figured out a way to stop it all from happening. He knows it’s only a matter of time before Matvey strikes again and he is staying as alert as he can, waiting for the Broker to make his next move.
And about halfway through July 2078, an unexpected visitor shows up at Vitali's office.
#nuclearwriting#timeline tag#you're allowed to rb this if you want!! :) <3#please do interact one way or another to let me know you've seen this because the added interlude is important!!#if you remember the mikhail climbs in the freezer fic. that one happens during that interlude as well LMFAO#anyway here you go! this basically sums up the first half of the entire broker chapter :) hope it's coherent#linked all the chapters in there as well just to make it Complete#dunno when i'll start working on part 3 but it shouldn't be too long!! i hope. at least SHGFJDHGDF
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.
Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.
When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.
So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.
Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus
So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...
to Laios':
-
There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.
Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."
And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!
Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.
2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire
I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.
For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.
In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...
Izutsumi
Kabru
and Mithrun
Hell, we even get it for the demon!
It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.
The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.
With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.
The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?
Something to consider as we look at the next point...
3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too
This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.
Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.
(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)
But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.
Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.
-
So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.
As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.
But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.
First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.
Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.
And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.
He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.
Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.
I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.
Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.
The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".
He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.
Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.
After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:
A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...
He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.
It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.
It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.
He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.
But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.
We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.
The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.
The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.
Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.
And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.
This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.
And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.
It's about how they are wrong.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi spoilers#laios touden#winged lion#dunmeshi analysis
8K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you write Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them but with side characters please ?
I knew people would request for the side characters sooner or later, glad I can write them again :b
--------------------------------------------------
Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them
Warnings:
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
--------------------------------------------------
DIAVOLO:
You were just giving your normal report to Diavolo after you got in the student council
You showed up in an empty hall where his throne is placed in the middle of the other end of it
And he's there
Sitting while looking oh so high and mighty
And you're there
Insisting to fulfill your duties even though you're feeling weird ever since this morning
"Greetings, Lord Diavolo-" You're not even done saying your greetings but you already dropped on your knees
The pain caused by the unnatural feeling of burning inside your body taking over your senses
"MC!" He called out before he stood up from his throne and come down to help you up
"I'm sorry, Dia... I'm just not feeling well-" And then again, you got cut off
But this time, you're not feeling weak
You're feeling all better
You're glowing like some light bulb though
"What happened..." You asked not noticing the once familiar feeling of being on your human knees
"How..." Diavolo just uttered a word and yet you felt a chill down your spine
Your spine?
"How disgraceful..." His voice seemed to grew more deep and husky and when you looked up
You saw yourself naked in the reflection of his eyes
His eyes that are looking at you like you're some prey
Your mind is hazy and your eyes are blurry from all the tears that are streaming out of it "Hmm?~ Are you alright, Honey?" His sickeningly sweet voice asked as he thrusted his hips even harder.
You let out a gasp before your hands gripped the hands of the throne even tighter, trying to spot yourself from falling forward because of his harsh movement "S-Slow downn!~" You whined.
But instead of him following your desires like how it usually works you felt his hand wrap around your neck "But I'm already as slow as I can get..." He dissapointedly whined before he thrusted one more time, releasing his seed inside of you.
BARBATOS:
You have informed everyone that you're not feeling your best today
And Barbatos insisted that he take care of you
Even going as far as to ask for a leave, which he never did back then.
And now he's here spoon feeding you the soup he cooked himself
"I can eat by myself..." You insisted but he just slapped your hand away when you tried to grab the spoon off of his hand
"You're an important guest MC... You need to have energy." He replied to you before he proceed to feed you.
Wait a minute, he never told you what this 'soup' is.
"What do you mean I need energy..? For what?" You asked, confused, by his choice of words.
But he didn't answer you.
Instead he put the bowl of 'soup' aside and loosened his tie.
"It's finally starting huh?" His voice lacked the formality, the modesty.
What's starting?
The unusual heat rising in your stomach?
Or this transformation?
You've lost everything, he blindfolded you, he stuffed your mouth with his tie and your hands cuffed to his own hands while your feet is tied to the headboard putting you in a sinful position.
Saliva dripped out of your mouth as you orgasmed again "How many was that already?" He asked before his hands gripped your waist, making you completely defenseless.
"MHM!" You screamed through the gag as you felt his dick grow larger "You should- stop squeezing me so much." He demanded before his tail ripped the tie off your mouth.
String of saliva flow down the side of your lips as your body submitted to his "T-Thank ywu..!-" Is what you managed mutter before his tail forced its way down your throat.
SIMEON:
You're simply keeping him company as he wrote another chapter for his new book
Sitting on the sofa next to his desk as you scroll through the internet
"MC..." He suddenly called out catching your attention
"What's up?" You tried, putting your phone down.
"Have you ever thought about... You know... Getting your human form back." He suddenly commented
His stands still tapping the key board
"Well... Having this sheep body sure is hard but it's bearable." You answered
"If it's what keeps me alive in this place then do I really have the luxury to choose what my body will be?"
He was shocked by your answer
Shocked enough that he stood up from his seat and grabbed your jaw "Your body is the temple of God... Yous should know how to love it." He suddenly lectured
"How about I show you how?" And with that your whole body glowed bright
You grabbed the edge of the sink as he harshly pounded you from behind "F-FUck, wait..!" You moaned, asking him to slow down for just a bit.
But instead he covered your mouth with his hand and fucked you even harder, his cock achingly hard because of the sight of your saliva seeping through the gaps between his fingers.
“I love you-! S-So much!” Is all he can come up with as his hand moved to your hips and gripped them before his thrusts turned harder, much more erratic. If only his white wings weren't out you would've suspected him as a succubus in disguise.
SOLOMON:
Solomon has been giddy all day.
Always smiling at you whenever or wherever he saw you.
And based on experience, this man is up to something.
And your suspicion is confirmed when he dragged you into an empty hallway and asked you to meet him tonight in the purgatory hall.
But when you arrived in it
You thought no one was home since every light is off
And the lights in Solomon’s lab are the only light brightening the hall through the gaps of the door.
You knocked and he immediately opened the door as if expecting it.
He should be anyways
He let you in and introduced you to a potion, a dark pink one.
“And what does this do?” You ask as you swirl it.
He smirked, his hands behind “It would give you your human body back.”
Your now spread wide on his desk his cock fucking into you, his balls hitting your ass as your soft please and request to slow down fall on deaf ears “Hmm?~ Slow down? But I gave you such a good potion, bringin back this slutty body back to me.” His eyes darkened as you felt him throb inside of you causing you to moan again knowing his cum will be in you again.
“Don’t I deserve a reward for being so useful to y-you?!” He asked, his hips thrusting one last time before he shoot another load of cum in you causing you to orgasm for the third time this night, your eyes rolling back “Fucking hell, ever since I had you in the human world…” Not even long after and he’s already pounding you.
“You’ve been teasing me everyday.” His voice is deep, something you wouldn’t hear from Solomon on a normal day “I-I, NOT!” You tried to object as tears fall from your eyes while you shake your head “Oh, really?~” He teased definitely not falling for it “Lying is bad, little sheep.” With one swift movement he flipped you up, now your back facing his chest “I heard spanking works the best for liars.”
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Mephistopheles have not seen your human form
And he does “not want to.”
That’s what he tells himself everyday.
But his curiosity is way too great to ignore.
Especially how the brothers are constantly searching for answers and ways to bring your human form back
Just what's about you that can make them so desperate?
But luckily
As he is the son of the greatest clan in the Devildom
Their family has a hidden heirloom that can just be of help in this situation
But he won’t tell the brothers about this
And at least, he won’t tell Diavolo yet.
And now he invited you in his mansion
You’re sitting on his bed as he conduct the ritual
And you must expect… This is not how you expect the ritual to end
“Slutty fucking human.” His words are laced with venom as his cock pushed your limits, threatening to tear you apart and yet you’re here, ass up in the air as he tried to push his cock all the way in “I T-T-OLD YOU!” You screamed as tears continuously roll down the side of your face “IT REALLY WON’T FIT IN ME!~” You moaned, still feeling him pushing it deeper.
“Are humans really this sensitive or you’re just an exemption?” He smirked as he pushed another inch in almost knocking the consciousness out of you “Stop fucking squeezing my cock so hard..!” He commanded as a harsh spank landed on your ass making you sob even more “S-Shit… So sorry!” He smirked as he noticed how he’s starting to take a toll on you.
“I’m barely balls deep in you and yet you’re already this reactive?” He mocked you as a distraction before he slammed himself all the way in and holy shit, he tried to not cum on the spot because he knows he’ll really break you if he does but fuck, the way you moan his name is not helping at all “Does it feel good, baby?” His voice is deep and husky as he leaned closer to your ear before biting it.
RAPHAEL:
Oh poor MC
This place does not even let you live comfortably with your own human body
He started assisting you more after he found out that the sheep form is not your original form
And that you actually have a real human body
And then one day
You’re in the back of the library trying to get this book
Diavolo insisted that its safe
For him
But definitely not for you
Considering how the book is starting to attack you
He, of course, defended you with his spear
Not until the book exploded
And you started glowing
“Oh wow… You have your human body back.” His expression does not express it well but he’s glad for you.
He’s glad really.
What do you mean your body feels cold?
Ah… It’s alright.
He knows the best way to make it warm.
Your legs are around his waist, trying to pull him, push him deeper “Patience MC… You’ll start bleeding if I push it all the way in.” He reasoned, making you whine even more. He’s still expressionless but you’ve caught a glimpse of a smirk “Y-You’re just teasing me…” You argued as his hips pushed his cock further in you.
“D-Do you want me to stop?” He looked so shy… You thought you made him feel bad but you can’t help it, you buried your head on his neck and nodded and just when you’re about to reassure him a chuckle left his mouth before his hips harshly slammed in you, not even giving you time to adjust to his length.
A gasp left your mouth as you covered it up, remembering you’re still in the library “W-What’s wrong?!” His words sounded like a taunt as his hips assaulted yours like you two are some animals in heat “You want it like this right..?” His voice darkened even more.
THIRTEEN:
You and Thirteen have developed this habit of hanging out in her cave
It was actually clean
It’s nice, quiet and the temperature is nice.
Though, as the two of you hang out
“MC is your skin really that… Glowy?” She asked
You looked down at yourself and you saw that
Shit
You really is glowing
You looked back at her in horror and you saw how her eyes darkened
“This can’t be happening… I’m death!” She voiced out as she turned to look at your candle
It was bruning flamboyantly, nothing was wrong…
SO WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!
She looked at the other candles threatening to blow them all off
If you don’t get to live
They can’t also-
“Thirteen…” You muttered, catching her attention.
She turned around with tears brimming on the bottom of her eyes
It immediately disappeared as soon as your naked form laid before her eyes though.
You whimpered softly as her tongue slithered inside your entrance “T-Thirteen… Give me a break..!” You mumbled as your fingers gripped the covers for its dear life and yet she just lifted her head up a little, a mixture of her saliva and your cum dripping from her mouth before she chuckled “You need to make it up to me… You made me worry and all ya know.”
Her lips started abusing your hole once again as her hands forced your legs open “So be a good little human and compensate me okay?” She managed to say between moans and slurps as she devoured you for the whole night.
--------------------------------------------------
#obey me#obey me fluff#obey me headcanons#obey me nightbringer#obey me scenarios#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me smut#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me mephistopheles#obey me Thirteen#obey me raphael
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
when is daddy coming home ?
g. satoru ⋅ fem wife reader
note: WOW i'm so sorry for writing this anyways tagging @satoruhour for no reason except i'm evil 👍 ik we need fluff comfort rn but i had to get out at least one devastating post. anyways. enjoy the suffering!!
warnings — heavy pure angst prepare to suffer and cry more than you already are, implied death, chapter 236 spoilers
playme ♪ oh god it's you i watch tv with / when i wake up i see you with me... as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you
scurrying around the kitchen, there's no free time when you've got a little mouth to feed. and you smile when you see your cute little girl devouring the bowl of steaming food. it's satoru's favorite, he asked you to make it today especially and you don't know why.
an hour goes by. you observe your child drawing a scribbly heart.
" what are you drawing ? " you ask, and she replies with " something for daddy. "
" it looks beautiful. who's that ? "
" that's you. and that's daddy. and that's me. "
" are we inside a heart ? "
" yup ! we're inside daddy's heart, because it has the most space. "
your heart feels a peculiar pang, and you look out the window. how strange, you felt like your whole world caved in for that split second.
" mommy, when is daddy coming home ? " your little girl asks innocently.
" soon, angel. "
you ring his number.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !
you remember the day he made this prerecorded messgae. his ow at the end is a reaction to your little girl biting him when she was teething, that was years and years ago now.
the little bell on her bracelet sounds. it's the bracelet that you and gojo wove together in high school; your little one had found it in your memory box and loved it so much that she asked if she could have it as her birthday gift.
that bell chimes as she moves her wrist to color in satoru's eyes with the prettiest blue crayon. and for some reason, it sounds louder than ever; you stare at it. why are tears coming forth?
the tv is playing. the birds are chirping. the world keeps spinning. but your world? it feels like it broke apart. and why? what was this feeling? you felt like... like something devastating has just happened.
you try satoru's phone again, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen. it feels eerily quiet and joyless.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !
you try it again.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now —
you try it again.
gojo satoru ~
gojo satoru ~
gojo satoru ~
he was mimicking the way you always said his name in high school.
and you start breaking down crying, trying and trying repeatedly as if it would change anything. you don't need someone to knock on your door to tell you he's gone, because you can feel it; his spirit isn't in this world anymore. you and him were completely connected, a string between the two of you that linked your hearts and subconscious no matter the distance between them.
when you look up at the sky, there's an endless blue. but all you really think of when you see that sky is his eyes. when you first met, that was one of the first things you told him.
" your eyes put the skies to shame. "
and he replied with something so cheesy that for some reason made you fall in love with him right there.
" aw. well, you put the angels to shame. "
the food goes cold. in his last moment, when he detached from the world, he was thinking about returning home to you. that's why he had asked you to make his favorite, after all. he thought it would be nice to enjoy such a simple thing after saving the world.
it's funny, even if he would have saved the world, he wouldn't have been able to come home to boast about it to you; because you never knew that side of him.
you never knew he was gojo satoru.
you just knew he was your gojo satoru, your doting husband.
when those eyes stared up at the blue sky for the last time, he thought;
at least i got to say i love you to you this morning, and give you that big kiss. treasure it baby, there will be no more now.
rest well honoured one.
© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
#i'd like to apologize for writing this#angst#gojo#gojo satoru#jjk angst#jjk spoilers#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x fem reader#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#ow#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
5: EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Emotions between you and Bucky are running high and it leads to some unexpected strife between the two of you.
Word count 3.3k
Warnings: derogatory language, mentions of vomit, Bucky Barnes being a real asshole
There was a deep itch under your skin and a tingling between your thighs that didn’t dissipate as quickly as you would like. Neither could you look Bucky in the eye, especially since you wondered if he said those things to Priya when they were in bed together. As much as you’d love to pretend that they didn’t have a sexual relationship, he had clearly refuted your hypothesis earlier in the day. It didn’t help that Bucky hadn’t turned around at all from his position at the end of the bed. Just as you opened your mouth to ask Bucky what your next step should be, there was a knock at the door.
You finally got eye contact from Bucky as he whipped his head around in surprise. You flicked on the app on your phone which was linked to the camera outside your room, which showed Nadal rapping at your door. Bucky jumped up. "Who’s there?" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
"Your neighbor!" came Nadal’s voice.
"Just a second!" Bucky looked at you, suddenly wide-eyed as you stripped your dress in one quick motion. ‘What’re you doing?’ he mouthed at you.
"Strip!" you hissed as you flung yourself under one of the sheets and shed your bra.
Bucky slipped out of his slacks and shirt, tossing them across the room before going over to the door. He looked back at you, asking you if his arm hologram was not out of place. You nodded and he opened the door and greeted Nadal. You were meant to be listening to their conversation but your eyes were inexplicably drawn to the muscles on Bucky’s back, the way they flexed with every movement he made.
"I knew she was a screamer…" you caught the end of the conversation as Bucky leaned back and they both looked at you. You waved back coquettishly, holding the sheets over your exposed breasts.
"We’re heading down to dinner, I was going to ask if you wanted to join us, but it seems that you’re still … indisposed."
"Yes, I think room service will be a bit more suitable for us tonight," Bucky smirked. "You think they would bring us whipped cream and strawberries?"
Nadal chortled, "well you are in the honeymoon suite, I don’t think they would deny you the pleasure."
Bucky kept laughing until the door was shut, where he proceeded to roll his eyes in private. You proceeded to pull your phone out from beneath the sheets, checking that Nadal and his husband didn't double back to their room.
"Looks like the coast is clear," you whispered, holding up the phone. Bucky’s gaze lingered on you, mouth slightly agape. His embarrassment flared, ears turning crimson. You glanced down, realizing the sheet had slipped, revealing more than intended. "Think you could stop staring long enough to complete this mission?"
"Sorry," Bucky mumbled, turning away to give you privacy, heading to the window to assess your access to Nadal’s room. You swapped the sundress for leggings and a fitted tee, practical for maneuvering. Creeping to Bucky, you peered out the window at the gap between balconies.
"Can we make it?" you whispered in his ear, not quite able to judge the distance beyond his beefy frame.
"Yeah, no problems." Bucky swung his legs over the railing, effortlessly hopping to the adjacent balcony. His left hand extended to you - it was a strange sensation, reaching out expecting the feel of flesh, only for your palm to meet cool metal. You grasped it, suspended between worlds, and leaped into the unknown.
Nadal’s room was bathed in darkness, which had fallen soon after the mention of dinner. The well lit palm trees in the resort offered a glow which allowed you to see without stumbling over the larger furniture items. Bucky’s eyesight adjusted faster than yours and he was beckoning you over to a safe.
"So what the hell was that back there?" Bucky asked, tersely, crouching down in front of the safe.
"What was what?" you whispered back, handing him the device necessary to open it.
"The… moaning," Bucky could hardly vocalize the show you had put on in the bedroom.
"What? You telling me that you and Priya don't talk to each other while you're screwing each other?" You asked with mock surprise while encouraging him to open the safe.
It was dark, but you could practically see Bucky's scowl at you before activating the decoder device. "She doesn't make a lot of noise."
"Well this mission is sorta depending on being convincing."
Bucky opened the door to the safe but all you found was a gun case and a few items of jewelry. No, your treasure wouldn't be so easy to find. Both of you rose from your crouched positions to resume your search.
"What if she doesn't like it?" Bucky mumbled.
"Like what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone low.
"You know… sex."
You stopped looking around to stare incredulously at Bucky through the darkness. "Are you shitting me right now? We're supposed to be looking for the intel, not discussing your sex life."
You continued your search, grumbling quietly under your breath, trying not to let his words get under your skin.
"Do you like that kind of thing?"
"Jesus Bucky! I think that’s between me and the people who actually want to be with me!"
Oh how Bucky wished he could tell you he was one of those people! He didn't ask any more questions, both of you searching in silence until Bucky discovered a sealed case with a fingerprint locking mechanism. "Got it!"
"Here Fitz-Simmons’ print scanner should sort this in a jiffy." You handed him one of your friends' inventions.
It did, Bucky flicked open the case, as you glanced anxiously at the camera app on your phone as someone walked past the front door. "Hurry!" you whispered urgently.
Bucky ignored you, connecting a memory drive to the computer in the case.
"Fuck, there's a password."
"Move," you pushed him away, shoving your phone into his hands. "You keep watch, I'll do this."
One of the things you’d taken from your past experiences, working with Agent Daisy Johnson, watching her hack into anything and everything. There wasn’t a firewall she couldn’t crack, and you’d picked up a thing or two about breaking encryptions. As you bashed away at the keyboard, Bucky watched the camera for signs of Nadal, every now and then glancing at you. His mind was reeling ever since he had heard you moaning, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end. Oh how he longed to hear you make those sounds again, preferably for him. He wanted to be the one who made you scream. He had often wondered how you would look, under him, coming undone for him, but he had never once considered how turned on he would feel hearing you.
Bucky had thought that ‘moving on’, getting a girlfriend, being in a relationship would help him get over his thoughts of you. And there were times recently where he thought he had made the right decision. You had been more closed off to him than ever and he couldn’t lie to himself, it hurt. But on reflection, the closeness of your friendship had been far more rewarding than anything he had ever experienced before. He couldn’t help but glance over at you, admiring how you worked, the concentration and determination to complete your objectives. The way your tongue stuck out on the side, between your teeth when you were so focused made him smile.
"Cricket," Bucky murmured, putting a hand on your shoulder. "They’re back."
"I’m not done! Go stall!"
Bucky dropped the phone and was out of the window in a flash. If you had the time, you would have taken a moment to marvel at the swiftness and elegance of his movement, but you had a task to complete and limited time to do so. It hadn’t even been a minute when you heard Bucky’s voice outside the room, engaging with Nadal. You shook your head as they discussed the food choices and what kind of delicious options he could choose from to feed his brand new wife. Your heart clenched as your ring glistened in the light of the laptop screen.
"Five… four… three… two… one. Done!"
You slammed the laptop shut, locking the case and putting it back in the exact position you had found it. With your memory drive in hand, you braved the leap back to the honeymoon suite. You could still hear Bucky outside with Nadal, so stripping off your t-shirt and leggings, you bound over to the door, opening it a fraction.
"James." You stuck your head out of the door, making sure to reveal enough skin to make your ruse believable. "I'm hungry."
Bucky turned around to you and smirked. "And I've never been more thirsty, baby. Now get back in bed and I'll be right in."
Mission accomplished!
Now, the only thing left to do was to make a getaway without arousing suspicion. You started stuffing your belongings into a bag in case you needed to run. Bucky came back inside a few moments later.
"Time for the moment of truth." He went over to his bag and grabbed the gun he had stashed inside. "Ready?"
You slung the bag across your back, handing Bucky the drive to pocket. When you first started working together, you had decided that he would be the one to carry the intel. Bucky was the one more likely to survive if anything went wrong. He had been reluctant to agree, swearing that he would never leave you behind. And until you met Priya, you had believed him.
Both of you stood, frozen, waiting for a disturbance, signs of discovery of your trespass, but nothing came.
"So, thoughts on the exit strategy?" you asked.
"Ideally unseen."
"Kinda hard In a place with so many people."
Bucky looked at you for a suggestion.
"I have a thought," you ventured.
Bucky cocked his eyebrow in question.
"Want to go down to the beach for a midnight skinny dipping session with your wife?" You offered your hand to him.
He took your hand with a smile. "Sounds like an excellent idea, Mrs. Road. Good thinking, Doll."
His hand in yours made you smile for a moment, that is until the last word slipped from his mouth. Bucky hadn’t called you Doll since he started dating Priya. Your mind was sent reeling, had he meant to call you that? It made you angry and upset but you had a job to do, so you turned your face to hide your feelings and opened the door.
Expect the unexpected: it had been drummed into you in the academy induction. The second you had stepped out of the door, you dressed in a skimpy bikini and Bucky in floral swim trunks, you ran head first into the enemy.
"Oh! Mr. Nadal! I didn’t see you there!" you gasped dramatically. "Why are you awake at such a late hour?"
"I could ask you the same thing, my dear."
"Well, my Jamie isn’t really a risk taker. Sometimes I have to convince him to take a few risks," you whispered loudly. "He promised to take me skinny dipping on the beach, but he was a little embarrassed."
"I can’t imagine that Jamie has anything to be embarrassed about," Nadal responded.
Bucky blushed, rubbing his neck. He chuckled bashfully, "I’m not sure I know how to say no to her."
"No one should say no to such a beautiful woman." Nadal’s eyes roamed over your body.
"If you will excuse us, sir. I have to show my husband how to live on the edge." You smiled, dragging Bucky away.
As you rounded the corner, Bucky dropped your hand. You glanced up at his face as he strode purposefully to the car.
"Hey Buck, wait up!" you hissed.
Except he didn’t slow down, ignoring you completely. You hustled to keep up with your fake husband until you reached the elevator to the parking garage.
"What the hell, Bucky?" you cried as you got in the car after him. "That didn’t look like a very romantic getaway!"
Bucky started the car, pulling out and headed in the direction of the quinjet. You sat in a sullen silence as Bucky drove wordlessly staring only at the road ahead, jaw clenching, one set of white against the steering wheel while the other hand had created a dent in the leather upholstery.
"What is your problem?" you demanded after sitting in silence for fifteen minutes.
Bucky didn’t respond.
"God, you’re such a child!"
Bucky scoffed. "And you’re a fucking brat," he spat.
You looked at him, shocked.
"I knew you had a problem with Priya. But you couldn’t just come out and say it. You said you were happy for me, but then you come out with this shit. You said you were still my friend, but I can see how you judge my relationship. Not to mention all that crap back there, acting like a fucking pornstar. Not all of us need to act like dirty little sluts to get off."
Bucky slammed on the brakes, stopping on an unlit lane. You clawed at the door handle, stumbling out of the car, your breathing shallow and labored. You felt the sensation of bile rising in your throat, but you had nothing in your stomach to throw up. No one had ever spoken to you this way before and you never imagined that the man you loved so dearly had the capacity to hurt you so deeply.
Bucky jumped out of the car straight after you. He regretted every single thing he had said as soon as he finished. He thought about reaching out to touch you but wisely decided against it. "Oh God, Cricket, I’m so sorry. I… I only said those things because I was angry and I knew they would hurt you. Please, I didn’t mean any of them." He knew he had been wrong as the vitriol left his mouth, but once he had started, he couldn’t stop. Every negative emotion, every insecurity, every doubt that he held close to his heart had slipped out in the most malicious way. His parents had brought him up to be polite to everyone, the army had taught him to exhibit control, and HYDRA had forced him into submission. Bucky was an expert in suppressing his feelings, but you had tested his patience and pushed every single one of his buttons until he had exploded.
There was no denying the sincerity of his apology, not that you registered any of the words he had said. Your mind was lost in a world of pain. You pulled the sheer cardigan that covered your shoulders tightly around your torso, shaking almost uncontrollably, both from emotion and the drop in temperature. It was killing Bucky to see your reaction, he wanted nothing more than to hold you close, to comfort you.
"Cricket," he whispered your name sorrowfully. Just as he was about to call you again, his ears pricked up slightly. There was a sound in the distance, a vehicle that was closer than it should be. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, catching a flash of a headlight beam. His heart rate picked up, anxiety increasing. Would Nadal have had you followed? Bucky peered into the darkness. There was no reason that anyone should be using that country lane at such a late hour.
"Cricket!" He grabbed your shoulders. "Get in the car, we have to go!"
Bucky’s voice felt far away but his hands on your arms were solid and forceful. He guided you back into the car and even though you wanted to shake him off, you knew he was doing the right thing.
"Cricket! They’re coming! Can you hear me?" Bucky spoke quietly but the urgency in his voice was evident.
You dragged yourself out of the well you’d fallen into, instead of drowning in the dark pit of misery, you decided to act. You sniffed back the congestion building in your sinuses and wiped the tears from your eyes, you grabbed the bag with the drive filled with intel. You needed to transmit the information back to headquarters so that they could make use of the passwords before everything could be changed. You picked up your cell, dialing Tony’s number.
"Tony! We need your help, now!" you put as much urgency into your voice as you could, before he had the chance to engage in his quips.
"What’s up? What did you and the Manchurian Candidate do?"
"We got the data, but we need to transmit it to you. They might be on to us and we don’t want them to have the chance to change their codes before we have time."
You could hear Tony typing even as you’re talking, wasting no time in setting up a secure connection for the data transfer. The pounding in your chest and ears now didn't have anything to do with Bucky’s outbursts. He was driving at an almost break neck speed, taking turns faster than normal and braking hard into unexpected turns. He had flipped off the headlights to make the car harder to spot, but the darkness, and the bumpy ride, as well trying to read the tiny writing on the screen was making you feel extremely queasy.
Bucky’s eyes flicked between the road, the rear view mirror and you. He was naturally concerned about you but he believed that you wouldn’t let your emotions get in the way of the mission. But that didn’t stop him from worrying.
"Cricket? We’re almost there."
"Almost done." You closed your eyes as the world started spinning and waves of nausea washed over you. Travel sickness wasn’t a problem you suffered often.
Bucky pulled into the small concealed opening which led to the field where you’d parked the currently cloaked quinjet. As soon as the car had stopped, Bucky shot back to the gate to close it, looking for signs of the enemy. You were left in sudden silence, no longer did the hum of the car engine soothe your thoughts, there was no other task at hand to distract you from the inner turmoil your body was suffering. The dizziness you’d been feeling earlier only intensified and you scrambled out of the car to escape the feeling of suffocation.
Unfortunately, the fresh night air did nothing to quell the throbbing in your temples or the saliva that was pooling in your mouth no matter how many times you swallowed. You knew your body well and you were loath to what was about to happen next. Supporting yourself against the hood of the car, you planted your palms on the metal to ground yourself for the inevitable. The acrid taste of bile stained your mouth as you heaved. A small sob escaped as acid in your empty stomach was expelled. Your whole body trembled in an effort to stay upright.
Bucky was at your side all of a sudden, his strong hands holding you up. And for a moment you melted into him. Letting him take care of you, letting him lead you into the quinjet, letting him wrap you in a warm blanket. You wanted your best friend back, you wanted your Bucky, the one who you could laugh with, the one who always took care of you, the one who made you feel special. He was the one person you could be yourself with. You missed the emotional intimacy you shared with him. The distance you’d put between him and yourself was making you physically ill.
You could barely focus on his face or the words he was saying to you or the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Bucky held up a bottle of water to your lips and you took a sip but it was all you could handle. Exhausted from the emotional stress, physical exertion and throwing up, your eyes drifted shut sitting in the co-pilot’s chair and you answered the call of Morpheus.
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Tag list: @samodivaa | @scoonsalicious | @literaryavenger | @noonespecial90 | @browneyedgrli | @vicmc624 | @cjand10 | @capswife | @julvrs | @ordelixx | @sashaisready | @sebastians-love | @thealloveru2 | @belleofthebooks | @missvelvetsstuff | @angelbabyyy99 | @rabbitrabbit12321 | @love-isnt-greed | @hhiggs | @winters1917 | @blackhawkfanatic | @calwitch | @learisa | @daybleedsintonightfa11 | @eviltinkerbell14 | @torntaltos | @terry2227 | @behindmygreyeyes | @lillianacristina | @mostlymarvelgirl | @soelstress
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes angst#my best friend's girl
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
the sweetest con
cowboy like me chapter fifteen
well. this is it. we made it, kids.
thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.
warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end
word count: 10.8k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡
“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”
“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”
You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”
“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.
“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.
Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.
It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.
Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”
“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.
Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.
Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.
She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.
Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.
That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.
It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.
The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.
“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.
“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”
Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”
She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”
“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”
“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.
“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”
“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”
You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”
Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”
“Hm?”
“What you just said.”
“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”
“Something a mom would say.”
“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”
The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.
You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.
“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”
Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.
What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.
He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –
No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?
He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.
It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.
Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.
You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.
Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.
His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.
Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.
You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.
“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”
“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”
“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”
Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.
Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”
Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.
“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.
Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”
Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.
You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”
“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”
You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”
“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”
You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?
Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”
You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”
A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”
You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?
“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”
“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”
You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.
He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.
“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.
“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.
Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.
“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.
She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.
When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.
There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.
The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”
“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”
“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.
Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”
“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”
He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.
Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”
“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”
He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”
“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”
“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”
“That’s okay.”
“Late one again tonight.”
“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”
“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”
You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”
And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.
He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.
He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”
You nod. “Miss you, too.”
“Let’s talk soon, alright?”
“Yeah.”
And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.
The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.
“Well?” Sarah asks.
He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.
“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”
“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”
You shrug. “I guess.”
Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.
“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.
“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.
“Nice. She paying?”
“Obviously. Mom duties.”
You kick the door closed on their giggles.
Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.
Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.
Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.
The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.
All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.
“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.
Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”
“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”
“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”
Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.
You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”
He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.
Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.
“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”
And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.
Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.
Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?
“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.
It feels like – you.
How did I ever know anything before I knew you?
“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.
You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.
He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”
“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”
He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.
A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.
“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”
“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.
“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.
You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.
Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.
Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.
He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”
“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”
“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”
“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”
Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.
“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.
“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”
“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”
You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”
He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”
“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”
He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”
You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.
You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.
You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.
“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.
“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”
His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”
The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.
A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.
“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”
“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.
“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.
“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”
She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”
Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.
“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”
“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.
You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.
She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.
And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.
The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.
Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.
“Hi, hon.”
Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“’m good.”
“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”
You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.
He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.
The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”
It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.
He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.
But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”
Your head angles. “Are we?”
His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”
“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”
“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.
You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”
“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”
You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.
He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”
“Huh?”
He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”
Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”
His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.
“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”
“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.
“As what type?”
He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”
“He’s not.”
You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.
“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”
You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.
Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.
“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”
Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”
“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”
He grimaces at the thought.
“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”
He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”
The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.
I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.
The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.
You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.
And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.
All over again.
“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”
You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”
Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.
“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.
“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”
“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”
“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”
“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”
Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.
He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”
And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”
“You love him. You do, don’t you?”
Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.
“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”
Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”
He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”
“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”
He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”
You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.
“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”
“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”
“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”
The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.
“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”
A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.
But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.
“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”
You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”
A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.
“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”
He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.
“Can’t hold her back forever.”
“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”
You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”
“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”
Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”
It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.
Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.
“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”
“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”
Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”
You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.
“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”
“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.
The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.
They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.
You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”
And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.
In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.
But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.
A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.
He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.
She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.
She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.
They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.
They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.
They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.
Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.
I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.
Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.
Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.
It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.
Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.
Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.
Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.
You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.
“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.
“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”
“Talk to me. Tell me.”
“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”
He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”
Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”
“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”
You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”
“Joel –”
“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”
“I don’t want to leave you –”
“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”
Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.
Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”
“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”
“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”
You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.
“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.
You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.
Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.
And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.
“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.
He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.
Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.
His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.
“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”
Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.
And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.
You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.
“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”
You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”
Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.
You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”
“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”
“What the fuck are you –?”
“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.
You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”
Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.
Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.
Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.
“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”
He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.
Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.
Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.
You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.
The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.
“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”
His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.
“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.
His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”
“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.
Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.
The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.
“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.
You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.
“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”
Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.
“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.
You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.
Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.
You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.
Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.
Joel.
Home.
You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.
You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”
He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”
“And you’ll be there?”
He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”
It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.
“That what you want?”
Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”
“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”
In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.
It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.
Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.
Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.
I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.
#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller smut#cowboy like me
877 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞
pairing: jason todd x fem! reader
summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.
word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this)
warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.
a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist
You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.
Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.
It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..
And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.
In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.
At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.
Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.
Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.
He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.
Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.
You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours.
Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.
“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.
You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.
. 8:24 PM
hey, how are you feeling?
. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it
. not really kill for it
. yk...
🤣
You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.
“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.
“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply.
“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.
“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.
“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”
You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.
“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”
“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.
Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.
Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.
“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.
“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.
“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.
Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”
You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?
“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time
“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.
“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.
Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”
“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.
“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..
“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.
“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.
“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”
“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”
“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.
“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.
“I’ll get it done,” you said, following his move. “Eventually.”
Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.
“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.
For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.
Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.
When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.
“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.
Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.
And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.
“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”
Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.
Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?
“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”
Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.
“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”
“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.
He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.
His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.
“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.
“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”
“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”
Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.
Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment.
The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up.
You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.
Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.
You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.
“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.
“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”
“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”
Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.
“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”
“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.
“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”
You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”
“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”
Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.
You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.
“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.
“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.
“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.
“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”
Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.
“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working.
Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.
“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”
“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.
“That’s different.”
“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.
“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.
Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.
“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.
“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.
It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.
He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.
You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.
“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”
“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.
“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.
There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.
The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.
“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”
“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.
You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.
He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby.
All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.
“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”
It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.
His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.
You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.
“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.
“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”
Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.
“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.
“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”
Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”
Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”
“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”
Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.
The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.
Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.
You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.
Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.
But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.
Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.
“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with.
Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.
“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”
Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.
“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”
You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly.
What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.
“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”
The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.
You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.
“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”
With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.
“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”
“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.
Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.
“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.
“I better head home.”
“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.
“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.
Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.
“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.
“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.
“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.
“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.
“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you.
Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.
Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”
It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses in the increasingly chilly days of September.
“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.
“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”
You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.
“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”
Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.
And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.
“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another.
The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant.
“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”
One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time.
At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.
A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.
Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.
You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”
It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on.
“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.
It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.
But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.
All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.
A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.
It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.
Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.
In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.
Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.
“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”
“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.
No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.
“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.
“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”
“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.
“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”
You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.
“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”
“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”
“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”
“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.
“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.
“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”
“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”
“In your room.”
Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.
You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition.
Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.
“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”
His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.
“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.
You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.
Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.
“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”
Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”
“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”
Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.
You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”
“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”
“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.
“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.
“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.
The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.
“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”
Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.
“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”
“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”
“Daddy, I-I…”
You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”
His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.
“Get your things and get away from this house.”
You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.
Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.
“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”
“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”
“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”
You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”
Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.
“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”
Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away.
You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.
Great. Just fucking great.
.
.
tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona
#jason todd au#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#jason todd x yn#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagines#jason todd blurb#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x female!reader
419 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lover Boy
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
Warnings: just pure fluff i think (very corny, very cheesy but i think it's deserved)
Words: 6k
Synopsis: Ghost wants to do things the right way…
Ignore how cringey the photo is I’m struggling
Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist
You are currently reading chapter 7 of The Roommate Series
The first thing you noticed when you pulled the fresh and clean laundry out of the dryer was Simon’s jacket that you had snagged off the floor shortly after he had left early in the morning just a few days ago. You had debated on whether you would be able to handle washing it but the thought of leaving his bloody clothes in his hamper, sitting there as a reminder of what could’ve happened, made you want to throw up.
You had spent the last few days working the blood out of it, his shirt unfortunately unable to be saved, because you were determined to save this one piece of clothing of his. You weren’t sure why, you knew that he most likely would’ve tossed it, you’re sure he's done that with many of his clothes for the same reason, but you didn’t want it to come to that.
The jacket itself seemed pretty worn and though this was the first time you had gotten a proper look at it, your recognized that this was the jacket he always wore when he left to go to work. There wasn’t much to it, it seemed like a pretty standard coat, rain resistant that had a hood and enough layers to keep him warm, and it even had velcro patches on the arm where you had to rip off a UK flag from.
You inspected it, making sure that the stain was truly gone and nearly smiled to yourself when you saw that there wasn’t a trace of it, before your finger poked through a hole on the fabric.
Your stomach dropped and you dared to look at the hole as you fought back against the pit in your stomach.
Part of you couldn’t believe that he had been stabbed with the full intention for him to not be able to walk back through your front door. There had been so much blood from something so violent, so traumatic and yet you were holding the jacket as if that were something completely normal.
It was normal. Normal for Simon but something completely alien to you.
Over the past few days, you hadn’t exactly been skirting around the topic of his job but you certainly didn’t bring it up even though you had a few questions. You knew how tense it made him when you asked, how panicked he got for a reason you didn’t want to ask, so for his sake you didn’t say anything.
It didn’t bother you not knowing, not in the sense that it would break up the friendship you had because you could very well live without the details. Still, that didn’t mean you weren’t curious and since he would be home for a while, you couldn’t help but think about it.
You glanced back at your room with a soft smile on your face as you stared at the closed door.
It was one of those rare moments where you had woken up before he did and it was only because he was still recovering from his injury. You would’ve stayed in bed with him, honestly it took a lot of self control to not go back to sleep in his arms when you had woken up, but you had planned to get most of your chores done so you could spend all of your time with him this weekend uninterrupted.
This was the last load of laundry you had to do and if you folded them quick enough then you could crawl back into his warmth before he woke up.
You placed the jacket into the laundry basket with some enthusiasm, the promise of falling asleep or even laying with Simon again enough to make you want to do your mundane chores.
Just as you were about to walk into the living room you felt your shirt being lightly tugged to stop you and the ghost of a touch against your lower back which caused you to shiver.
A smile spread across your face and you turned around to see Simon.
He had just woken up. His hair was messy and his eyes were still bleary as he rubbed them, a look that a child who had just woken up set on his face as he stood in front of you bare chested but still bandaged up. You were surprised you hadn’t heard him, he wasn’t exactly as light footed as he usually was at the moment, but you were happy to see him nonetheless.
“Good morning.” You spoke lightly.
“You weren’t in bed.” He grunted and you raised the laundry basket up for him to see.
“Thought I’d start early.”
He eyed the laundry basket and you could see the thoughts racing through his mind: You shouldn’t be doing the laundry now that I’m here. I wonder if I could take the basket and fold it myself. I can’t believe laundry stole her away from me.
His eyebrows knitted together when he saw his jacket and he picked it out to the other clothes, inspecting it carefully as he made it look like a normal sized jacket in his hands. His eye went serious when he stuck his finger through the hole in it before he glanced at you.
“You didn’t have to wash it.” He said but you gave him a soft smile.
“I’m just glad I got the blood out.” You walked into the living room with him in tow as you set the basket on the floor. “Your patch should be somewhere in here.”
You searched around for the patch and when you turned around to give it to him, he was already folding the laundry. You weren’t as surprised as you thought you should’ve been considering the past few days had been a fight against him trying to do things around the house instead of resting.
At every turn, he was trying to sweep the floors or washing the dishes or he was trying to fix something before you shooed him away. You practically had to push him back into his room or back onto the couch with threats about calling Price, who had messaged you yesterday asking about Simon’s recovery, to get him to stop pushing himself.
You had never seen him so restless before. You were worried that maybe his mind wasn’t exactly in the right place, that maybe he was fighting off the urge to hide away in his room but you also had a sneaking suspicion this was his attempt at making it up to you.
Making up to what, you weren’t entirely sure.
“Maybe I should tie you down to get you to rest.” You teased and didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a glint in his eyes. “Simon.”
“Didn’t say anything.” He didn’t look away from you as you noticed the faint hint of a smile on his features.
You couldn’t help but chuckle from the comment you made even as your face went warm. However, instead of dwelling on it and subjecting yourself to Simon’s flirting, which had been directed towards you more often than you expected these past few days, you decided to focus on the laundry. You wouldn’t get anything done today that you wanted to if you let him and you wanted to get the laundry put away.
You sat down next to him on the couch and smiled when you felt him press his thigh against yours. You put more of your weight against him in return and watched as his eyes softened while he continued to fold.
A smile pulled at your lips as you set the patch down.
“You know if you had waited, I could’ve made breakfast.” You teased and he hummed.
“I could fold while you make breakfast.” He countered and you shook your head.
“You’re allergic to giving yourself a break.”
“Slept pretty good past few nights.”
You gave him a look but he didn’t seem very phased, in fact he was a little smug about it which only made you playfully roll your eyes. You knew it was a losing battle, one that you had only won once a few nights ago, and it made you wonder if he was this stubborn with his coworkers.
He bent down to grab the last of the items that needed to be folded and his eye twitched. You watched him fight the urge to put a hand on his side and you bit the inside of your cheek.
Simon had been recovering well considering he didn’t rest nearly as often as someone should for being stabbed and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was because he was used to still being on the move despite any injuries he has received. The thought made you feel sick but you could only assume that the military was that brutal, especially when you assumed that’s where he got his scars.
Before you didn’t really think about them, it wasn’t your business, but now you wondered how many of them had happened in the same circumstances as his current injury. How many of them had been near death experiences? How many of them caused him to nearly bleed out? How many of them were close calls?
You heard your name being called and you blinked a few times before you realized you had been staring at his bandages. You looked up and met his eyes, watching as he gave you a sad look before he very gently took your hand into his.
“Feeling better today.” His eyes flickered down to your hand where he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles. “Just sore.”
You nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t lie to you about that, and gave his hand a quick squeeze. You let out the breath you had been holding, feeling a little less uneasy, though you found yourself glancing back at some of his scars, particularly the one so close to his eye.
You didn’t want to think of how that one happened.
The laundry was folded in no time and before you could even stand up to put it away, Simon had pulled the basket away from you, forcing you to make breakfast instead. Though, you were sure when he was finished he would make you sit so he could cook instead.
Just as you pulled out the skillet, he walked into the kitchen and stepped into your space and looked at you expectantly while he held his hand out.
“You know I cook everyday when you’re gone.” You raised an eyebrow and watched him scowl.
“Now I’m home.” He argued and gestured for you to give him the skillet.
You handed him the skillet before you pulled out the food from the fridge, avoiding the arm that he was about to put out to stop you from going back to the stove. You watched the inner turmoil inside of him, the urge to fight you about this butting heads with the urge to let you do as you pleased before he conceded and let you stay beside him.
You gave him a triumphant smile that caused him to scoff before the two of you began to cook together.
“So what do you want to do today?” You wondered as you added a pinch of spices into the breakfast. “We could go on a walk or stay in if you’re not up for anything outside.”
Simon was silent for a moment and you glanced at him to see that he had a very concentrated look on his face as he stared at the skillet. He almost instinctively leaned closely to you, your shoulders pressed against each other as his knuckles turned white, and you couldn’t help but lean into him as well as you waited patiently for him to speak.
When you put pressure against him, his eyes darted towards you before he looked away from you quickly. He shifted on his feet and let out a short breath before he looked back at you with hidden fear in his eyes.
“Was thinking maybe we could go on a date.”
You blinked a few times as you stared at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything as the words failed to come to you. You couldn’t quite believe how forward he had just been about it, considering the most forward he had been was when he pinned you to the counter just a few nights ago, but this was entirely different than that.
This was a date, not your first ever, but the first one you would have with Simon.
The emotions bubbling up inside of your stomach were almost too much for you as the giddiness surged through your veins and made you feel hot all over. You could hardly breathe, like all of the air inside your lungs had been stolen as you struggled to even think of a reply.
“Yes! I would love that.” You grinned after a moment and couldn’t stop.
Simon let out a deep breath and his once tense shoulders relaxed as he nodded, looking incredibly relieved by your answer before he ran a hand through his hair. He still avoided looking at you as the tips of his ear turned red as he focused on cooking breakfast instead of letting it burn.
“Great.” He said and you waited for him to say more as he plated the food made for the both of you.
Normally you would’ve been patient, knowing that Simon took his time to think of what to say, but you were too excited about the thought of going on a date with him.
“What are we doing? What did you have in mind?” You couldn’t help but stare at him with wide eyes as he sat across from you.
“Dinner. At a restaurant.” He looked almost unsure as he stared at, gauging your reaction to his suggestion as if his life depended on it.
You couldn’t help the grin split across your face even though you were quite surprised by the fact that he wanted to take you out. You were expecting him to suggest making you dinner inside the apartment, much like how his birthday had been spent, which would’ve been perfectly fine for you, but this made you even more excited.
You didn’t even care what restaurant it was or even if the two of you didn’t get any food, you just wanted to go out with him.
Simon’s face fell with relief and he couldn’t help but smile as well, which you were sure made you both look like idiots. He let out a short sigh and began eating and you started talking, a lot more than usual, but he didn’t say anything to get you to stop.
You were too excited to really care anyway. You had thought a few times in the past about whether anything could come from being romantically involved with Simon and you thought about it even more since the night he had kissed you. You wondered if there would actually be something since he had never once talked about dating someone before or even looked interested in someone in the three years that you had known him.
Before you had wondered if maybe he just wasn’t somebody who wanted a partner and though it was a hard pill to swallow you had decided that whatever would happen would happen. It made your chest warm now that you knew he did want something, that he was trying to have something even though maybe he had it before.
It was hard for you to wait for this evening, in fact it took everything in you to not tell him to just take you out right now.
One look at Simon said he was feeling the same.
You don’t remember a time before this moment where he looked this happy. Even though he wasn’t smiling as big as you or talking all that differently, you could see how much brighter his usual tired eyes were and how his shoulders had relaxed significantly since he had come home.
He glanced up at you from his plate and your eyes met briefly but it was enough to nearly knock the wind out of your chest.
You always found comfort in his dark eyes. You knew that he had seen things that many others haven’t and yet he always managed to look at you softly. It had become something that you always looked for and even in this moment you looked for it, but you didn’t find it.
Instead you saw only what you could imagine was pure adoration. His eyes were incredibly warm even for someone who always gave you that safety. You knew he wasn’t someone who was very affectionate, even recently as your relationship changed so you never would’ve expected him to look at you any different. You tried to write it off as your mind playing tricks on you since you were overjoyed about going on a date with him, but when he spared you another glance as he took both of your plates to wash them, there was no mistaking it.
All you could see in his eyes was love.
~
You lost track of how many times you looked at yourself in the mirror, checking to make sure that your entire outfit and your makeup looked perfect. Never in your three years of living with Simon had you ever been worried about your appearance, even after you figured out your feelings for him, but when you needed that confidence, it was nowhere to be seen.
A dinner date. An official one, one that you had been properly asked out on by the very person you were in love with, which not only made you feel like you were on top of the world but had caused you to put some unseen pressure on yourself.
You didn’t want to let him down, you didn’t want to disappoint him and yet you couldn’t help but feel incredibly foolish for feeling so nervous about a simple dinner date. It wasn’t like you had never eaten dinner with him, in fact he was really the only other person you ate dinner with other than the occasional going out with friends, so in your mind there was no reason why you should be freaking out.
However you couldn’t help the fact that you saw every imperfection with your outfits to the point where you had changed at least four times already. You were trying hard to not work yourself up and as you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but think you didn’t look that good.
You glanced at the clock and clenched your jaw.
There wasn’t that much time left and you didn’t want to make him wait but you were too conflicted about your outfit. You let out a short huff and weren't to change again when there was a knock at your door that had you holding your hands tightly together.
You should’ve known that he would want to go early just in case there was an emergency or some crazy reason why you both wouldn’t be able to get there on time.
“Hold on!” You called out and made sure that you looked presentable.
You tried not to be harsh on yourself since you wanted to have fun but unfortunately, your mind wasn’t having it. Instead of showing that however, you opened the door with a smile, one that grew at the sight of Simon on the other side of the door.
He was dressed up in a black button down shirt that you didn’t even know he owned but looked quite nice in nonetheless. He had cut his hair and even shaved off the stubble on his face, making himself look more put together, though you wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t since to you he looked pretty every day.
Despite that, the effort made your heart swell, especially when you caught a whiff of cologne, that you also didn’t know he owned, mixed with his regular smell which had all thoughts pushed out of your mind.
Fuck, he smells really nice.
Simon stared at you and stepped closer to you, leaning into your space and taking over your senses with him. You could feel his warm breath on you as his eyes bounced around your face, spending just the right amount of time on the details he wanted to look at.
He was breathing slightly heavier and you saw his arm twitch as he nearly brought his hand up for a second before he swallowed hard.
You waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything at this point. You wanted him to reassure you that whatever was going in your head was a lie, that the weather was nice, or that his shirt was scratchy. His silence never bothered you, even now, but you desperately wanted him to say something just so you could find enough courage with his voice to push away your nervousness.
“You look nice.” You breathed out and watched as his eyes flicker to your lips. “I didn’t know you owned a shirt like that.”
Simon cleared his throat and absentmindedly rubbed a hand across his shirt as he took a step back. He nodded and it looked as though he were struggling to find the words as he looked at you so instead he put his attention to the door frame beside him.
“The old man got it for me.” He glanced back at you and he seemed to lose his voice. “You look…lovely.”
“Yeah? You think so?” You gave him an unsure smile because even though you didn’t want to make it seem like you were fishing for compliments, there was still that part of your mind that couldn’t stop thinking poorly.
“Yes.”
He looked sincere and serious as he stared at all of you. You had rarely ever seen him this serious and you wondered if maybe he had seen the insecurity written across your face or maybe in your eyes no matter how hard you tried to hide it. The look on his face made you sigh softly before a genuine smile spread across your face and you felt the ugly thoughts wash away from your mind.
“Thank you.”
You grabbed everything you needed and made sure that your outfit was put in place before you walked to the living room with Simon in tow. You went through a checklist with him, one that you knew wasn’t necessary since he had most likely ran through it multiple times in his head but you did it anyway.
You were about to walk out of the door when he stopped you.
“Shoes.” He gestured to your feet and you looked down at your feet with raised eyebrows.
“That would’ve been embarrassing.” You laughed and went to put your shoes on before he stopped you.
Simon didn’t say anything to you as he kneeled down and began to put your shoes on for you. You stared at him dumbfounded as your heart fluttered for a moment while he made sure they were on correctly and comfortably.
He gave your ankle a soft squeeze when he was finished and set your foot down before he stood up. He gave you a quick glance before he grabbed what he needed after taking your wallet from you since he insisted on paying. He brushed his knuckles against your arm as he stepped past you and opened the door for you.
Your eyes softened and you couldn’t help but place a hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze as well, before you stepped outside with him right behind.
The ride to the restaurant wasn’t long but the both of you talked the entire way. It was easy conversation and for a moment you were content with just spending your time with him speaking about whatever came to mind. There was nothing different about it when you normally spoke to him, especially now since he had been home for longer than he had been before.
When he parked at the restaurant, you gave him an unsure look as you saw that it was one of the more expensive ones in town that you had always wanted to try but never had enough money for since you were a college student.
You couldn’t say anything as he helped you out of the car rendered speechless by the fact that he took you here for your first date.
You entered the restaurant, followed closely behind by two other patrons, and made your way to a booth towards the back.
The dimly lit restaurant was beautiful in your opinion and you wondered if maybe he had been here before or if this was new for him. You were still speechless about everything until you opened the menu and saw the prices, which nearly made you grimace.
“Simon, are you sure?” You asked softly as you gave him an uncertain look that had his eyebrows knitting together.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He stared at you and studied your face as if he were gauging to see if you needed to leave.
“It’s a little expensive.”
His eyes softened as he set the menu down for a moment and placed a hand on your wrist before giving you a gentle squeeze that had you letting out a sigh.
“I’ve got the money for it.” He reassured you and made sure that your worries were gone before he went back to looking at the menu.
You hummed, a question popping into your head but you were unsure if you should ask it. A server came and took your orders while you ruminated, wondering if you could say something or if it was better to leave it alone. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, not during a dinner where the two of you were going to enjoy delicious food and each other's company.
Simon tapped your foot with his and when you met his eyes, he gave you a look. His face had turned serious and it was easy to tell that he knew what you were thinking about.
His shoulder did tense, but instead of looking angry or nervous, he gave you a short nod for you to go ahead and say what you wanted to.
“So you get paid well at your job.” You began, almost skirting around the question which you knew he didn’t like, but you decided to anyway.
“Not that much, enough to pay rent and eat.” He shrugged and rubbed his thumb across his water glass. “Sorry to crush your dreams.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes at his teasing, watching a small smile pull at his lips as his eyes flicker to yours. You scolded him lightly and though you wanted to tell him that you could care less if he had money or not, that you didn’t even question him about what his job was for three years, you decided not to.
Instead, you gathered enough courage to ask the real question on your mind, one that had been in your mind since John, Kyle, and Price had showed up at your shared apartment. It made you a little nervous as you fidgeted with your discarded straw wrapper.
“What rank are you?” You asked, chuckling nervously to yourself as that didn’t really sound right coming out of your mouth. “Is that how it works?”
“I’m a lieutenant.” He was straight to the point with a serious look in his eyes and you nodded slowly with indifference.
“And that’s good?”
Simon raised an eyebrow and you gave him a sheepish smile. It was clear you didn’t know as much as he assumed and you watched his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. He shifted in his seat slightly as he stared at you, looking for something in your eyes but when he didn’t see it he continued.
“Means I’m good at my job.” He said matter of factly and you felt your chest warm at his confidence. “I can tell Johnny and Kyle what to do when Price can’t.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re bossy.” You teased, more of his behavior making sense to you now that you knew, and he sent you a look.
“I’m not bossy.”
It was your turn to send him a look as you raised an eyebrow, watching as he didn’t concede on that blatant lie. Simon just as stubborn as he was a little bossy, but he was never forceful or mean and always seemed to have the best interest in mind, which you always thought was him just being willing to do everything, which was still true, but now it was because he was used to telling people what to do.
Luckily for you if you told him to stop he would. You weren’t sure if John or Kyle had that luxury.
“You are a little bit.” You said but you didn’t make it sound like a bad thing which made him sigh with relief. “Especially when you want to do everything in the apartment.”
“That’s what I did before you moved in.” He told you and you shook your head.
It was a bad excuse.
When you had first moved in, when he was home, Simon would do everything around the apartment because of that. He had a routine he told you about and how he stuck to it even with you added to the equation, but after a year or so of you living with him he had dropped it.
This was something different.
Whether it be because he wanted to make up something to you or for another reason you weren’t sure, but you knew that he was doing this out of routine.
You were about to ask him why as your food was served and nearly did before he stopped you.
“I like…taking care of you.”
For a moment it was like the world had stopped. You stared at him with wide eyes as your entire body grew warm and you bit on your bottom lip. You blinked a few times, unsure of what to say as he stared at you with worried eyes as if he had said something wrong. You were so overwhelmed by the good feeling that washed over you, having never expected him to admit that outloud, that you were holding yourself back from rushing around to the other side of the table to kiss him.
You wanted to. Your hands itched and suddenly your legs went restless as you felt the urge to shower him with as much love as you could before he got tired of it.
Simon pulled his hands into his lap and looked almost embarrassed for having said it but he didn’t look away from you.
“You shouldn’t have to do those things when I’m back.” He said softly and you managed to pull yourself out of your shock to give him a sad smile.
“You shouldn’t overwork yourself.” You countered, knowing how hard his job had to be, and he frowned.
“You do everything when I’m gone.”
“And I’m okay with that.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue with you but didn’t say anything. You saw that look, the one full of guilt he had given you the night had come back home and you felt your heart ache ever so slightly.
You scooted out of the booth, ignoring the confused look on his face, as you pushed your plate to his side and scooted in next to him. You gave him a warm smile as he made room for you, breathing in the good way he smelt, before you pressed your thigh against his in a way to comfort him without overwhelming him.
“We can do stuff together.” You suggested, though there was little room for negotiating, and began to eat your food. “It doesn’t have to be all on you.”
Simon was silent for a long moment as he stared at you but you didn’t mind. You could tell he was thinking as the guilt didn’t necessarily disappear from his eyes but was lessened as he put more of his weight against you.
He let out a soft sigh when your eyes met with each other and you watched them soften again as he got that adoring look that made you feel like you were on top of the world.
He began to eat as well, staying quiet for a few moments before he hesitantly placed a hand on top of your thigh that made you shiver.
“Spend more time together.” He nodded and it made you smile as you placed your hand on top of his.
“Doing the little things.” You added with a soft voice rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.
“Normal things.”
The two of you ate and talked for a long time, you weren’t sure how long you had been in the restaurant but neither of you had cared in the slightest. It didn’t matter, not to you as you felt incredibly happy to just be with Simon. The food was so good that you both ended up taking leftovers after you had joked he had to take you there for every date from now on, though you were sure he’d really do it if you wanted him to.
You held onto his hand as you walked out of the restaurant, accidentally bumping the patrons who had walked in after you, and didn’t let go until you were in the car. You smiled the entire way back home that your cheeks hurt by the time you were getting ready for bed.
The two of you went through your regular routine and you were so ready to crawl into bed beside him you nearly skipped everything entirely.
You felt Simon place a hand on your lower back when you were drying your face off from washing it and when you looked up from the towel to give him a smile, he gave you one back.
You were about to ask him if everything was okay when he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, causing you to lean into him.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered in your ear as he caressed your cheek.
“I just washed my face.” You giggled and he hummed as he pressed another kiss to your cheek.
“Doesn’t matter.”
You pulled back and shook your head as he continued to caress your face. You leaned into his touch and watched as his eyes flickered to your lips which made you give him a coy look, knowing exactly what he was thinking about.
“There something you want?” You teased and he scoffed as he glanced up into your eyes.
“Heard it was bad to kiss on the first date.” There was a glint in his eyes as he stepped closer to you.
You raised an amused eyebrow and gave him an expectant look as you waited for him to close the gap between the both of you. When he didn’t you pursed your lips in a fake pout when you realized he was waiting for you to tell him he can kiss you.
“Well, I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” You faked a sigh. “Maybe I want one as well.”
“Be kinda bad if I didn’t then.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Simon pulled you into him and pressed a tender kiss to your lips. He sighed when your lips met as he wrapped his arms around you to keep you secure to chest while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He very gently bit your bottom lip as one of his hands moved to your hip and he stuck his tongue inside when you let him.
You could taste every word that he said through the kiss, every feeling that he must’ve had trouble saying during the date and it only made your heart swell. You kissed him back, hoping that he would know everything you wanted to tell him too.
The way he made you feel like you were everything, the way things always felt good when he was home even when it was the bad days. It took everything in you to not utter those three words when you broke apart from the kiss…
I love you.
Link to part 8
A/N: I’ve been mean with the angst so I figured the best way to balance it out would be give y’all a little date. Excuse the poor dialogue i tried to write flirting but i have no flirting skills
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
Tags:
@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @alastorhazbin @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepsel @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod ghost x reader#ghost x reader#mw2 ghost#ghost mw2#cod ghost#the roommates series
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Unknown Pleasures Ch.1
You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?
Warnings: Minor angst
1.2k words
Chapter links
The hum of the engine filled the car as the song stopped and Denki continued driving down the road. The last few weekends had consisted of Denki riling up whoever he could to come out on an adventure in his new car.
You sat in the middle back seat between Hanta and Katsuki, leaning your head against the headrest you let out a heavy sigh. A wave of relief washed over you finally being able to take your mind off responsibilities for a moment.
These random weekend adventures always lifted a weight off your shoulders and allowed you to enjoy your youth.
In the front seat, Hitoshi shifted uncomfortably. Hitoshi was a new addition to your usual cast of shenanigans. Denki had quickly befriended him much to the dismay of Katsuki who detested anyone new.
"What's Kirishima doing tonight?" Hanta asked curiously. Denki fiddled with his phone at a red light attempting to change the song.
"Oh, he is busy with Ashido~," Denki said in a sing-song voice.
"Tch- that's why you picked up this mind freak?" Katsuki huffed, making his disdain for a new face heard.
"Hey play nice blasty!" Denki called back to him.
Katsuki grunted and you giggled pinching his cheek, "Come on don't be rude," You teased.
"Cut it out!" Katsuki yelled smacking your hand away.
The light turned green, and Denki shoved his phone into Hitoshi's hand. "Why don't you be DJ man?" Denki suggested as he focused back on driving.
"You want me to choose a song?" Hitoshi clarified.
"Yeah, go ahead! I want to hear what you usually listen to!" Denki said encouragingly.
Hitoshi fiddled with Denki's phone until selecting the song Atmosphere by Joy Division.
"Oh! I love this song!" You exclaimed and began to sing.
Hitoshi's eyes wandered to the rearview mirror where he caught the reflection of you singing. The calm smile that painted your face as you sang the words perfectly caused his stomach to flutter.
However, the euphoria your playfulness gave him came crashing down when he noticed how your eyes wandered to Katsuki. Your eyes danced as they admired his face as if you were waiting for Katsuki to acknowledge you.
But what if you knew he looked at you the way you longed for Katsuki too?
His stomach only soured the more he observed the interaction. Katsuki's gaze stayed out the window completely indifferent to the softness of your expressions and the longingness in your eyes.
As if your soft features and carefree personality weren't enough to do him in, your voice was intoxicating as well. Hitoshi was sure he could spend a whole day listening to you sing his favorite songs.
Denki's voice infiltrated Hitoshi's daydream shattering his lovely image of you singing just for him.
"Alright, we're here!" Denki announced.
"About fucking time- had enough of being in this stupid car," Katsuki exclaimed and threw open the door exiting eagerly.
Hitoshi's eyes followed your figure as you quickly jumped out after Katsuki. The way the moonlight hit your skin as soon as you stepped out and your features bounced as you happily sprang in excitement forced him to suck in air to ground himself.
"You ready man?" Denki asked, noticing Hitoshi's slowness.
"Yeah," Hitoshi answered, forcing himself to blink away his desires and exit the car.
You five began to walk up a hiking trail. Denki had claimed the view had to be amazing at night, and hiking was one of the only things he could get Katsuki to agree to come to.
Hitoshi was new to the group and hung back observing the four of your interactions. It didn't take long for him to notice your gaze never left Katsuki. He was always in your line of vision and most of all he was the main person you responded to in the conversation. The other two boys might as well not have been there at all in your eyes.
Eventually, the conversation pushed you out as the three boys got into a heated discussion regarding something pointless.
Hitoshi quickened his pace, taking this opportunity to speak more with you.
"Hey," He called out to get your attention.
"Hey general studies~," You teased.
Hitoshi would have corrected you that he was enrolling in the hero course now, but your teasing caught him off guard and it took all his concentration not to be flustered by your comment.
"How are you enjoying the hike so far?" You asked.
"It's fine-," He shrugged his shoulders." So- what usually happens on these night outs?" he asked.
"Hmm- well usually we try to get in as much trouble as we can before Bakugo yells at us to go back," You giggled.
Hitoshi's nose scrunched up at the sound of how you sang out Katsuki's name. Your crush on him was all too evident.
But why?
What did you see in that belligerent blond?
“Are you excited to be in the hero course now?” you asked, snapping Hitoshi out of his thoughts.
“Yes of course. It’s all I’ve ever wanted… I’m especially excited to get to know everyone more.” He stated.
“Oh, that’s funny~ last I remember you said you weren’t here to make friends.” You teased.
Hitoshi flushed slightly at your comment, “Yes, I did say that- however, I find myself particularly excited to get to know you more. Speaking of that- would you like to go out to eat sometime?” He asked.
His words took the breath out of your lungs and froze your footsteps. Hitoshi stopped and turned to face you, taking in your shocked expression. You had never been asked out so straightforward before- nor did you expect it from your new classmate. And then there was your feelings for-…
Hitoshi spoke, bringing you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“It’s Bakugo, isn’t it?” He asked simply.
His words sent you into even more peril. In the brief time Hitoshi has spent with you he had picked up your crush on Katsuki. Was it that obvious?
“Is he your boyfriend?” Hitoshi asked further.
You stuttered like an idiot not knowing how to form a sentence after being so taken off guard. “He- well no he’s not but- I uh- I don’t-,” you tried to get out anything that would make sense. Thankfully, Hitoshi hated seeing you in such discomfort.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain, I think I understand. However… if you’re ever tired of waiting for him to appreciate you like he should- I can assure you I’d do a better job.” He spoke.
Your eyes searched his, completely overwhelmed by his boldness. His expression was genuine, calm, and serious. Hitoshi had every intention of laying out his affinity for you honestly and politely. It was unlike anything you had experienced before- and left you speechless.
“The hell are you two doing back there?” Katsuki spewed looking back at you both. In the fleeting moment you two had stopped to speak, the three boys had made some considerable distance.
Hitoshi let out a disgruntled sigh, the angry chihuahua's temper poked at his nerves. It was past cruel that such a vulgar man would have your affection. However, as Hitoshi averted his gaze from you to Katsuki he saw for the first time a quick shimmer of possessiveness in the blond's eyes.
Did Katsuki have some feelings for you after all? Or was it just his ego that appreciated your attention? Whatever the case, the tension that held between the two students was not going to be the last.
Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee
#Hitoshi is simping hard for us#bnha shinso hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi x reader#mha shinsou#shinso x reader#shinso x y/n#Shinso angst#bnha shinsou#shinsou x reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#bnha x self insert#bnha x y/n#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#mha angst#bnha angst#bnha fanfiction#mha#my hero x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero fanfic#my hero acedamia
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty eight : a place for us
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧
pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 8.4k
summary : the not so secret happily ever after.
warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore
a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.
☆
You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him.
Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on.
You haven’t had sex.
Not since everything happened.
You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work.
You just want to do something nice for him.
He does everything.
He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg.
Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking.
So you try. All day.
Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.
“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you.
“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings.
“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach.
“You’re not.”
“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck.
“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice.
You wait a moment in the silence.
“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again.
“I swear to the Maker-”
“Okay! Sorry!”
Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax.
“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there.
“You’re sure?”
“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?”
“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.
“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you.
☆
You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.
Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy.
Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days.
You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree.
So you have to compromise.
At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing.
The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now.
The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults.
The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council.
It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you.
It’s different.
It’s happier, it feels safer.
It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it.
And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester.
You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up.
You’re just so kriffing horny.
Morning, noon, and night.
Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done.
If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you.
Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use.
It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester.
You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile.
“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy.
“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”
“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy.
“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him.
“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg.
“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently.
“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.”
“But-“
“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready.
You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts.
He took a lot of showers.
And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change.
You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh.
You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked.
So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you.
For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge.
You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall.
Without his helmet.
You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about.
His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft.
“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”
“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day.
You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.
“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.
You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly.
Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought.
You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs.
“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.
When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference.
You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top.
Maker, maybe you are showing.
You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip.
“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs.
“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”
“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?”
“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter.
“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer.
“No, you just relax today.” Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house.
“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head.
“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“
“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look.
“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth.
“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug.
“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.”
“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink.
“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom.
“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle.
You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago.
The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines.
“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work.
You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself.
Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.
He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave.
“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down.
“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod.
“Perfect.”
Except it isn’t perfect.
The bastard remained unconvinced.
And you remain frustrated out of your mind.
He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to.
Princess,
Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty.
He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats.
The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved.
She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring.
Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished.
Love, Lysa
You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls.
“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes.
“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks.
“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look.
“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice.
“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”
“Fifty.” You shove his arm.
“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor.
“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin.
☆
When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur.
You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you.
You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point.
By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you.
“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure.
“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it.
Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before.
“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.
“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is.
You stay in his lap.
Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.
You fall forward into him, and he flinches.
He never flinches.
You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him.
“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact.
“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours.
“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.”
“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off.
Silence.
Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not.
“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning.
“Din that has noth-“
“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”
It makes you want to cry.
To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again.
“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.
You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect.
“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.
“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you.
“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing.
“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top.
“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“
“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.
“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.”
You do, terribly.
You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.
“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand.
“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you.
He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you.
He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat.
“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod.
“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper.
“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain.
“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you.
Has anyone ever told him that?
“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.
“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you.
You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes.
“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut.
“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.
He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.
He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips.
He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with.
He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you.
“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy.
He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair.
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves.
He’s perfect like this.
Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more.
“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again.
It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months.
Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now.
You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.
He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin.
And you are more than happy to indulge him.
☆
The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could.
You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left.
With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it.
It’s seemingly a couple of things.
You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy.
When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.
But he’s timid.
And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often.
And then it clicked.
He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult.
You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about.
You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair.
“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look.
“Why would I do that?”
“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”
“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.
“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it.
“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well.
“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands.
“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.
You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone.
“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?”
His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.
“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands.
“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”
“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry.
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not with me.”
He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat.
“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.
“Of what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy.
He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes.
“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.
He chews the inside of his cheek a bit.
He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.
“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you.
“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”
A pang of sorrow hits your heart.
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now.
“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”
“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.
“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.”
“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.
“You talk to him all the time.”
“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck.
“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.
“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his.
“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”
“What else should I tell him about?”
“Anything.”
He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.
“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.
“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”
“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips.
You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read.
He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach.
☆
Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world.
The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.)
A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand.
Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.
Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.
“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him.
You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him.
When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes.
He is just a little copy of your riduur.
Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.
“He’s perfect.”
“He’s perfect.”
You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you.
Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.
☆
You go on a lot of walks.
It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.
People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.
He really does.
He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.
Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)
You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus.
And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him.
He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours.
You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life.
You finally found your peace.
Your freedom.
Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it.
Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race.
You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth.
You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again.
Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns.
On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing.
You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure.
You endure for Din.
You endure for Grogu.
And you endure for Arin.
Din always says he was born to love you.
You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father.
Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood.
That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside.
“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.
He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers.
“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.”
He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you.
He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.
“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you.
“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress.
“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.
“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease.
“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth.
You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room.
Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes.
“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy.
“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear.
Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead.
“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead.
“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep.
You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace.
“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump.
“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.
“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other.
“I love you.” He mumbles.
“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time.
And you go to bed.
In your perfectly sized bedroom.
On your perfectly sized mattress.
With your Din.
☆
a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.
i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!
#lincolndjarin#the mandalorian#best kept secret#bks#din djarin#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fanfiction#mandalorian smut#din djarin smut#pedro pascal#din djarin/reader#din djarin/you
476 notes
·
View notes
Text
- Money, Power, Glory pt 3 -
Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader
Genre: suggestive, maybe even a little fluffy
Summary: the way you both feel for each other seems to change a little and, after once again staying over at her place, she makes a way too appealing proposition. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N =56, R=24), making out, suggestive themes, extremely brief oral (R receiving).
A/N: this story contains mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Chapter 4 is already in the works and it will be a bit deeper. Let's not talk about how the Christmas special is going because it's currently not going…anyway. Again, thanks to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link ♡ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
Masterlist
Isn't it crazy how fast time passes? Well, it certainly was to you. You just couldn’t believe it had already been six whole months since your first encounter with Natasha and saying that your life went upside down thanks to her was an understatement.
On one hand it felt as if it hadn't been a day since the first time you'd stepped into her elegant home, but maybe that was only because of just how much time you'd been spending with her. Hours soon turned into evenings, which turned into nights, days and even whole weekends. She definitely seemed to like the thought of having you always ready for her to enjoy and, having the financial means to do so, asking you to spend prolonged periods of time with her, sometimes not even engaging in sexual acts for some parts of your encounters, slowly started becoming the norm. Of course she would've gladly booked you even just to watch you sip on a drink and read a book in a bikini by the pool at her beach house while she was stuck on a stupid work call, but she knew that even if her intentions were ever to be pure, they would've immediately taken a turn once she'd be in your presence. You wouldn't have been opposed to the idea either, after all Natasha's presence was slowly becoming something you simply didn't like being without and spending more and more time with her, even without doing anything at all, only kept sounding more appealing as time went on.
You soon realized that you'd just added a regular to your customers list, despite the older woman never clearly stating so. In fact, she seemed to be quite adamant in declaring that your meetings were strictly a means for her to destress only once she needed to. Maybe she was truthful and her life, which consisted pretty much only of her job, was, after all, more stressful than you thought. But something in you was telling you that it wasn't completely true. If that something was just a hopeful part of you talking, you didn't know.
What you did know pretty soon, though, was that she wasn't going to be any regular client, you just knew something different was going to happen with her, you could feel it in you, how different playfully flirting with her was, how real your nervous and timid stance was, how real your orgasms were, how real your eagerness at answering her calls was, how you found yourself thinking less and less about the money that came with her. She was as intoxicating as the most expensive top shelf liquor there was, of which she probably owned at least one bottle, and you didn't think you could've ever been more addicted to her. Of course, no matter what, her bottomless fortune was still incredibly appealing to you. How could it not be? After all, beautiful things require a lot of assets and you've always liked beautiful things, clothes, shoes, jewelry, trips, Natasha. Thankfully, your job and your clients' "generosity" had done wonders over the years at satisfying your cravings, not just through their payments, but with little gifts and rewards here and there. You weren't a sugar baby, not at all, but those kinds of people were power addicts and what better way to assert your dominance than to show off your American Express to a pretty girl and then fuck her brains out, or at least try.
It had happened again and you had spent yet another night over at Natasha's house and the more time that passed, the more you convinced yourself that she really didn't need you to placate her anger anymore. You knew by then what she was like when she needed to unload some stress and what you had been seeing recently just wasn't it. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she was still perfectly able to leave you limp on the bed even without being rough at all, but it was interesting how she apparently didn't want to admit that maybe she just liked to have fun together simply because.
The ache you felt through your whole body as soon as you woke up in her unfortunately empty bed was clear proof of just how easy it was for the older woman to completely wreck you without even trying. You would've gladly spent the entire day under the warm, soft covers that smelled like her until she came back home late at night, but your rationality slowly pushed your body out of the small piece of heaven you had no interest in leaving. Getting out of her illegally comfortable bed and readying yourself after such a night ended up being way harder than you expected, but you were finally able to join her in the kitchen surprisingly early, even though you were still only wearing a button down shirt, making you not truly ready but still giving you some more time to spend together before she had to go to work and you had to go back home. Your usual bad morning mood was immediately lifted as you were greeted by the back of her tall, built frame wearing perfectly tailored pants and a shirt tucked in that hugged her arms in the most delicious way possible, giving you a perfect view of her upper body clad only by a thin layer of expensive cotton thanks to the suit jacket left over the back of a chair. Maybe you could've gotten used to such beautiful sights blessing your eyes first thing in the morning.
She inexplicably looked effortlessly hot even as she simply blowed a silver strand of hair out of her face, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, that she then laid over her shoulder, and rolled up her sleeves, showing off the watch that was probably worth at least two years of your apartment rent and her slender, veiny hands. She simply looked otherworldly and you couldn't hold yourself from silently pressing your front against her back and untucking her shirt to let your hands rest on her bare stomach, hearing her lowly chuckle at your usual morning clinginess. You stayed silent for a little while, simply soaking in her presence, when you suddenly realized what you'd just walked in on.
"You know how to turn on a stove?"
You would've expected an unimpressed look if she was facing you, but her fake laugh was basically the equivalent to that.
"Ha ha. You know, I haven't always had private chefs."
You knew, of course you did, you were just messing with her and she secretly loved it.
"Did you send them away?"
"No, they're still here, in case I mess this up."
"Is the Natasha Romanoff capable of messing up something like scrambled eggs?"
She didn’t answer your question, no quick remark, no teasing, which told you that yes, she was absolutely capable of messing them up. You didn't press her, though, you were technically still on duty, even though you had a tendency of forgetting it while you were with her, and the first thing you always wanted to do was make sure to avoid at all costs any possible chance of a negative outcome. It may have sounded stupid, but those people were paying you a whole lot of money to have a good time and if something so meaningless such as talking about not being able to cook scrambled eggs could've led them to be in a bad mood then it simply wasn't a topic worthy enough, not even for friendly banter.
"Well, you definitely didn't mess it up last night…my legs are so sore and I need to be at the gym in an hour!"
Your whining as you held onto her tighter amused her, as flashes from the night before, with your arms around her and your nails on her back, made her immediately turn off the stove to turn around and finally kiss you for the first time that day, savoring your content hum at the feeling of her plump lips languidly moving against your own. You had a strange effect on her, like no other woman before, and she could barely wrap her head around it. Any time she touched you in any way, any time she talked to you, any time she was in your presence, her heart seemed to do a leap in her chest, giving her a sense of euphoria she usually felt only after a successful day at work. You were younger than her, so much younger, 32 years younger to be exact, but you strangely felt like the only woman she'd ever been with who could really be at her level. She knew she had to have you for as long as she could and you didn't seem to be too much against the idea, as you started to make more and more time out of your schedule to be with her whenever she wanted, a privilege none of your other clients ever had. Of course your agent was very happy with the new change, but she, like everybody else, only thought of it as a way for you to make even more money, Natasha was the wealthiest of your clients after all. Deep down you knew, though, that it wasn't the only reason why you kept spending more and more time with her. You genuinely liked her and the endless hours you devoted to her were making you the happiest you'd been in a while.
"I'm going to Cuba for work for the weekend, there's a free seat on my plane."
You found yourself whining and chasing after her lips as she broke the kiss to speak, but soon grew intrigued by her proposition, knowing how little work her weekend work trips actually had, usually only one or two phone calls while you sucked her off while still in bed.
"You're asking for a bit too much on such a short notice now, Ms Romanoff."
You were teasing her, making her beg for you to go, even though you knew you would have agreed way before she had to resort to begging, but that didn't mean that there wasn't some truth in your words. Given the amount of time you were spending with Natasha you often had to occupy your weekends with your other clients, who now had to book their meetings with much more notice to guarantee themselves a spot with you. You'd even lost Wanda Maximoff, one of your first ever customers, because you "even dared suggest" to move your weekly meetups from Friday to Saturday, but, as much as it pained you after everything you'd done for her for literal years, you knew that Natasha's money would've still been way more than what you needed to survive.
"I'm offering you a weekend of relaxing, squandering and fucking in Cuba, doesn't sound too bad to me."
It did not sound bad at all, it sounded like the best time you could've ever had and it pained you knowing that you had to give it up to instead spend your weekend pretending to laugh and acting like you'd never cum harder in your life with some "limp dick", as Natasha liked to call your other customers.
"Well, I have clients eagerly waiting for me on those days."
Even as you spoke those words surely, there was still a little voice in the back of your head that kept chanting over and over for you to fuck it, leave everything behind and hop on her yacht to go wherever the hell the woman you l-liked wanted you to go. It didn't happen every single time, you eventually giving in, but way more than you'd like to admit and once again you could hear that voice getting closer and closer, making it impossibly hard for you to resist her temptation, even more so at the sight of her beautiful eyes slightly darkened by hidden jealousy.
"If you blow me on my way to work I'll give you more money than all of those limp dicks together will over the fucking weekend…and of course I'll pay you for Saturday and Sunday."
Why did she have to say something like that? Why did she have to speak to you in that way, with her lips almost touching yours and her hands possessively grabbing your waist and pressing you flush against her front, unknowingly making you feel her bulge so damn well. Of course your slight shiver didn't go unnoticed by her and seeing her pupils dilate as she eyed your lips and the top of your chest only made your breathing all the more shaky as your mind finally settled on the only important person to you. You were going with her, fuck everybody, no amount of money would've been worth more than her right now.
"Now I'd be dumb if I turned down such a tempting proposal."
Of course she didn't need to know just how eager you really were and how you would've screamed YES from the tallest building in the city, not only would it have inflated her ego even more but, more importantly, she would've known just how bad you really had it for her.
"Hmm and you're not dumb, right? No, you're the smartest whore in New York City."
If only she knew how hard you would've slapped anyone else for calling you that, but coming from her only made the name sound like the best compliment you could've ever received.
Her tense expression seemed to have relaxed in the slightest at the confirmation that she was your choice, that maybe at least a part of you genuinely liked her enough that you were willing to cancel on your other customers at the last minute only for her. And just like that, she was hit by it all again, that deep need to have you, carnally and platonically. She once again felt almost overcome by it and could no longer keep herself from taking you again, you were like her own drug and you couldn't keep her from kissing you with so much passion and need that you felt like you would've never been able to stay away from her. God, how blissful it felt, how much did she get off of the power she had over you. She could've easily spent the rest of her life savoring all and every little part of you. You consumed her too much and she always felt like she needed more and more of you.
The thin layer of cotton of your shirt suddenly felt like the thickest brick wall there was and, after taking way too much time undoing your top button only, she firmly grabbed each side of your shirt and ripped it open, making every single button pup and roll over the floor. Your shocked, but secretly pleased, expression went completely unnoticed by her as she ogled at your chest, looking even more delicious to her thanks to the deep red lingerie you wore over it.
"And the hottest"
"Natasha!"
She didn't even lift her gaze to speak or acknowledge you, simply looking at your assets once more before bending over to kiss and suck the skin not covered by expensive lace, taking your breath away and making you completely forget about your famous "no marks" rule you barely cared about anymore with her.
"I'll buy you a new one"
She barely stopped her assault on the tender skin to mumble what tried to be words of reassurance before she started to push you backwards until you were pressed against the kitchen island. You barely noticed her hands sneaking down your body and only realized what she wanted to do when she was already lifting you up to make you sit on the marble counter, pushing you to lie down on the cold surface and hurriedly kissing down your front while taking off your underwear.
"Hell, I'll buy you fucking Max Mara"
Her raspy voice slightly muffled by the skin of your inner thigh as she propped your legs over her shoulders made your center tighten around nothing for just a second, before she dove into your pussy like she needed it to survive.
How the hell could you ever have thought about not choosing her?
.
.
Part 4
.
.
Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fluff#black widow#black widow x reader#black widow x female reader#black widow smut#black widow fluff#marvel#mcu
783 notes
·
View notes
Text
My version of the wardrobe template! yay!!
I had a LOT of fun doing this and feel like I could elaborate a bit more on each of those.
It's already linked up here, but here's once again a > link to the post.<
Anyway! More about these designs below!
So first, for WKX's template!
- Chapter 2: Grey robes
I had already made my design of those for the full TYK lineup I made a while back. I really, really like those, and took inspiration from some of the robes SHL!WKX wears in the show for the shapes.
- Chapter 69: dark robes with dark red belt
I expected to like that style for him, but not that much! I had seen a tutorial on how asymetrical hanfus were worn by archers in the past and that inspired me, purely on a fashion level of course. I like how intimidating he looks with those and enjoy the touches of blue in the inner layer of the robes.
- Chapter 75: dark red robes
The GVM robes! which I also designed a while back when researching for the illustrations of the Mt Fengya battle scenes that I wanted to make. I reworked them just a little bit and got rid of some details that I didn't like anymore. I tremendously pleated skirts for WKX so I went at it once again. I also used shifts in hues to make it look like it could have been drenched in blood.
- Extra 5: deep red robes
For the reminder (since apparently some people are not aware of extra 5's existance), this extra is set 5 years post-canon. I wanted WKX to wear something that looked comfortable for traveling but also practical and fashionable. The teal jacket is of course another nod at SHL since the red and teal combo was an absolute banger. Let's say I didn't want WKX to just sport an all-red look. Furthermore, the teal really works to adorn the red hues.
- My personal favourite
I actually don't really know whether those are my actual personal favourites, but I've come to LOVE WKX dressed in red and white thanks to @kwehxing's designs. I think it really suits him and on top of that it avoids the question "is this Hua Cheng" LMAO--okay jokes aside, I combined most of the shapes that I really like for WKX (wider shoulders, wide sleeves, and long robes with pleated inner robes) and I find him very elegant like this.
Now, for ZZS!
- Chapter 1: sapphire blue scholar robes
Those had already been designed before as well! They're my go to generic TC!ZZS robes, haha. I was a bit extra with the blue colour here, but oh well. I'm quite obsessed with the silver brocade cynching his waist, haha.
- Chapter 2: stolen farmer robes
A classic as well as far as I'm concerned--of course, inspired by his hobo fit in SHL because it was quite efficient. I'm forever fond of my scruffy hobo!Xu and his toes poking from his sandals.
- Chapter 18: luxurious robes from the Gao family
Those were a new design! Which I had a lot of fun coming up with. Putting ZZS in a different colour scheme was also really nice. For those who don't remember, ZZS feels quite ridiculous when he sees himself in a mirror wearing those fancy robes while being so emaciated and still sporting his hobo mask. I wanted to give this "out of place" feeling; and also work on a very "wuxia" style for the robes, since this is jianghu and they were provided by Gao Chong.
- Extra 5: black robes
I'm incredibly fond of this design. I worked quite a bit on it, since I wasn't sure of where I wanted to go. My main guidelines were: practical and cool. I really like ZZS having a lot of room to move so ideally not too much fabric in the way, and I think he also needs arm braces to be rid of annoying sleeves. Of course, him looking much healthier and having a dynamic ponytail really works to "complete the look", and I find that he looks really cool there haha.
- My personal favourite
This one has been refined over the months, but it's definitely, overall, my favourite look for him in terms of shapes and construction. I like that the robes are short, I like the more fashionable jacket. I'm especially into the "pants tucked into the boots" silhouette, as well as the little ribbons keeping them tight around the ankles. I'd say that this leg shape + short robes + a bun (or sometimes a ponytail) is THE ZZS design combo for me, haha. It looks practical and fun and adventurous, just how I like it.
To conclude the whole post, I had more fun doing this than I even expected, and needless to say that I'm very excited to see other versions of them following this template. It was a good opportunity to try and project what the characters look like throughout the book, and a fun design exercise as well. I actually don't really like doing character design usually, but for characters I'm obsessed with, it's of course a much nicer experience.
Anyway, thank you for reading!
279 notes
·
View notes
Text
All Work, No Play: hour one
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader
Summary | You meet Jackson at the bar in the hotel you’re staying at and decide to be brave and try something new; a one night stand. But it doesn’t go the way you think.
Warnings | NON CON 18+, sexual content, fingering, vaginal sex, dubious consent, threats of anal rape, degradation, humiliation, misogyny (like so much lol), choking, hickeys, cunniligus, crying, edging, stalking, voyerism, breeding, unprotected sex, emotional manipulation, putting misogyny again lol, objectification, face down ass up🤭, dehumanization, threats of murder and torture, I think that’s everything skdjdk.
Words | 6.5 k
Notes | READ THE WARNINGS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO VIEW. The last thing I wrote that was this intense was maybe the beginning chapters of exposure therapy or the dark!jason series💀
Ao3 link | <3
Fic Masterlist
Main Masterlist
This is the last warning, if you keep reading and find something you don’t like, that’s on you. I have it clearly written what’s in this fic, if you choose to ignore it, don’t be a bitch about it and comment hate or report it ❤️
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
“Can I sit?” Your head snapped up, finding a man standing behind the empty seat next to you.
“Yeah. Go ahead.” You said awkwardly, clearing your throat and putting your attention on your drink as he sat down.
“I'm sorry, I'm not usually this forward, but I was wondering if I can buy you a drink?” Your eyes widened and you turned to face him, not expecting that question at all.
“Um- sure. Thanks.” You gave him a small smile, feeling your cheeks heat up when he returned it. He called the bartender over to order his drink, then looked at you expectantly. You ordered, then finished off the rest of the drink you already had— two shouldn’t be too bad.
“I’m Jackson.” He said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You told him your name in return and he muttered it to himself, testing it out.
“What brings you here?” You asked, turning toward him to give your full attention.
“Work. You?”
“Work.”
“I have to say though, this trip is turning out to be much better than the others.” He gave you a small smile and you tried not to get too overwhelmed with the butterflies in your stomach as you stared at him, wondering almost anxiously about where this was going.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“This time a beautiful girl let me buy her a drink.” You averted your gaze as your face heated up, not used to such sudden compliments like that.
“I guess I could say the same then.”
“I don’t believe that.” He scoffed playfully. “You must have men practically lining up to buy you drinks.”
“Nope… Just you.” You said, embarrassed. Thankfully, the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, giving you a break from his attention. “So how long are you staying here?” You asked, changing the subject.
“I should only be here one more night. Maybe two depending on how tough the job is.” He shrugged.
“Oh okay. I’m flying back over the weekend so I’m here for a few more days.”
“Do you have any personal time or is it all work and no play?” The way he said it made it sound like an innuendo… but you weren't completely certain if it actually was.
“Well I have enough to sit at a bar and talk to a stranger.” You smiled behind your glass as you took another sip.
“I see… And what about going someplace quieter with a stranger? Do you have time for that?” He said lowly, making arousal pool in your stomach as his eyes darkened slightly.
“I think I could spare a bit. It depends on what this stranger wants to do.”
“I’m not sure it would be appropriate to say in the middle of a hotel bar.” You eyed him curiously, deciding what to do. You’re not a one night stand type of girl, but he’s hot and you’re a little pent up.
“Then I guess we should go somewhere you can tell me.” His lips curled into a smirk and he immediately reached in his pocket to pull out his wallet and place some cash on the bar for your mostly untouched drinks.
He stood and held a hand out for you to take as you got to your feet, letting him lead you over to the elevator. On the ride up, you tried not to let your nerves consume you, but you weren’t doing a very good job of that. The doors opened and he led you to his room, using the key card to open the door, then holding it open for you to walk in first. You looked around the room, finding no luggage and the bed perfectly made as if it hadn’t been slept in yet.
“How long have you been here for?” You turned to face him as he placed his key card on the dresser and you waited somewhat impatiently for his answer.
“A few hours. I mostly just have to work tonight.”
“Oh… Do you need me to go then?” You asked, not understanding why he would invite you here if he had to work.
“Of course not. How would I get any work done if you left?” Your brows furrowed as you replayed his words in your head, still not understanding.
“Um… I— What?” You laughed awkwardly.
“I'm gonna be honest, I thought I’d have to try a lot harder to get you to my room.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, but he ignored you.
“I mean, I know you pretty well by now and I didn’t think you were the type to do one night stands.” You stared at him in confusion, but your stomach was twisting with a sense of complete and utter dread that something bad was about to happen to you.
“I’m a little tired actually, I think I’m just going to go to my room.” You said, tentatively walking forward, but he remained between you and the door, blocking you.
“But the night’s just getting started.”
“Jackson, please move.” You said quietly, gaze shifting between his face and the door. He took a step closer, making you stagger back as he approached.
“Now that we’re somewhere quieter, I guess I should tell you what I want to do. Or… not what I want, but what I’m going to do.” You were quickly nearing the wall behind you as he kept moving closer. When your back hit it and a small gasp escaped you, he placed both hands on the wall on either side of your head, trapping you.
“I need something from you. Depending on your attitude, I’ll either take it, or you’ll give it to me willingly. One of those options will be significantly more painful for you and fun for me.”
“Please let me go.” You whispered, not able to maintain eye contact. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then suddenly grabbed your cheeks to turn you toward him, making your eyes snap back to his.
“Beg if you want, but you’re not leaving here any time soon. Not until I get what I want.” He said lowly, words sounding like they once again had a different meaning.
“What do you want?”
“Two things. We’ll start with the fun one first.” The hand on the wall dropped down and he snaked it back up your thigh, under your dress. “Which pair did you wear, hm? I hope it’s that red set. The black one’s cute too though.”
“What?” You said through a breath, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about. The lacy one that you seem to love so much. You take so many pictures of you wearing it and I know you don’t have a boyfriend so who are you sending those to?” He said teasingly.
“How do you know that?” You whispered, heart pounding in your chest.
“Same way I know that you like to walk around your apartment naked.” Your stomach twisted at the smirk on his face.
“I- I don’t understand…” He shushed you before you could finish. Not that you could formulate a response anyway.
“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it. For now, let’s do what we came up here for, yeah?” He wasn’t asking you, he was letting you know what was happening, but you weren’t about to go down without a fight.
“You’re fucking psychotic if you think I’m doing shit with you.” You spat, pushing his hand away when it started moving toward your underwear.
“Baby… don’t be like that.” He cooed mockingly. “I know how pent up you are so stop being a stubborn bitch and just enjoy it.” He warned, tone significantly harsher than before.
“Fuck you.” His hand suddenly moved from your face to your neck, squeezing tight enough to make you raise your hands to claw at his arm. You thrashed around in his grip, prompting him to place his leg between your thighs and push his body against yours, mostly immobilizing you.
“Keep this up and I’ll torture you to get what I need, then kill you and fuck you— in that order.” You let out a strangled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut. “Do you understand?” You did your best to nod with his grip on your neck.
“Yes.” You managed to force out through a wheeze.
“Good.” His grip loosened significantly and you took in a huge breath, chest heaving to get the much needed oxygen. “Where do you want it? Against the wall? …On the bed?” He asked coyly. Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him, desperately waiting for him to just say that this was all a joke and he didn’t mean any of it. But he never did. “Bed it is.” He answered for you.
Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you from the wall and pushed you back toward the bed before practically shoving you onto it. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at you on your back, propped up by your elbows to look up at him.
“Strip.” He demanded, eyes focused only on you. Hesitantly leaning up into a sitting position, you started with your heels, unbuckling the strap then dropping them to the floor— only debating for a moment if you should throw them at him or try something else, but you didn’t want to take any chances. Moving on to your dress, you pulled the zipper down until it loosened and took a deep breath before moving the straps so that the dress fell to around your hips. You lifted your lower half off the bed a little to slide it the rest of the way off, then waited.
“Please don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you. You know what I want.” He said, all but rolling his eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, you reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra, discarding it to the growing pile on the floor. Your underwear was next, slowly sliding them off and keeping your legs together before covering yourself with your hands.
“Fuck they’re even better up close.” He groaned, taking off his suit jacket. “Do you know how many times I jerked off just watching you walk around naked? You should really learn to close your blinds, you know. Sure people from the street can’t see you, but I could see you perfectly from the roof on the building across from yours.”
“Why are you doing this?” You whimpered, watching as he unbuckled his belt before taking it off.
“People pay me to.” He said with a shrug, making you scoff.
“People are paying you to rape me?”
“Of course not. That’s just a bonus.”
“You’re sick.” You hissed.
“Maybe. But what does that make you?” A smirk was making its way on his lips.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I can see how wet you are.” He said plainly, gaze dropping to your legs.
“You’re fucking delusional.” You spat.
“Am I?” He walked over to pick up your discarded— damp— underwear, holding them up for you to see, making your face burn. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve been told I’m conventionally attractive and I know you’re into this, even if you won’t admit it.”
“Into what? Being raped?” You scoffed.
“Not to that extreme. You want to be forced— dominated against your will. You want me to take what I want from you and trust me, I have every intention of doing that.”
“Look I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just,” He was on you in a second, roughly shoving you so you were laying down, then holding you there with a hand wrapped tight around your throat.
“I can’t what?” His voice was low and menacing, a warning. “Hm?” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to panic as your head was starting to feel light again. “That’s what I thought. If you’re done with your tantrum, let’s get started.” You glared at him, teeth grinding together painfully. Despite everything, the fact that you just gave in so easily was what made you feel the worst. You barely put up a fight… and you know why. Because he’s right. You came up here with him because you thought he was attractive and wanted to fuck him. It’s not like you can just turn off that attraction.
“Please let me go.” You whispered, eyes brimming with tears of humiliation.
“No.”
“Then just fucking get it over with already! Do you want help? Is that it?” You reached for his pants and started working on the button, but he released your neck to pull your hands away, holding them in one hand above your head. When you swallowed thickly and turned away from him, he grabbed your neck again, but didn’t squeeze as hard as before.
“I watched you for weeks. I’m not about to rush things now.” Your eyes fluttered shut and you willed the tears away. You let out a stifled sob, biting your bottom lip when it started trembling again. His mouth was on yours suddenly, pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you tried to flinch away from him. His hand snaked down from your neck to grope your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers in a way that was bordering on painful.
He trailed kisses over your jaw, down to your neck, then sucked the skin into his mouth, only releasing you when he was satisfied with the darkness of the bruise. Moving to a new place, he did the same thing, leaving hickeys all over your neck and down your chest before sucking your nipple into his mouth. You tried to stifle the gasp, but he heard it anyway. Once he deemed your nipple hard enough, he moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. His hands were pawing at your body, groping your breast and gripping your side to hold you still as you squirmed. He pulled up, looking at you through his lashes with slightly parted lips as he panted.
“Ready for the fun part?” He smirked and you thought that meant he was going to fuck you, but he kissed down your stomach until he made his way to your legs, settling between them. He pried them apart even more and eyed your sex eagerly, making your cheeks heat up.
“What are you doing?” You choked out and he tore his eyes away from your cunt to look at you.
“You thought I’d watch you play with this pretty pussy for so long and not enjoy it?” He scoffed. Before you could protest, he was leaning down and licking a long stripe up your slit. Biting your lip, you swallowed down the moans threatening to escape. He focused mostly on your hole, lapping up your arousal and fucking you with his tongue, all while groaning against you.
Moving up, he sucked your clit into his mouth and swiftly pushed a finger inside, making you jolt. Your lip was aching because of how hard you were biting it but you couldn’t risk letting out any moans.
“Please,” You whimpered, trying to push yourself up the bed. In retaliation he inserted another finger, then wrapped his other arm around your thigh, pulling you down onto his hand. “Please stop.” You cried. If anything, your begging made him work harder.
“Why? Getting close?” He smirked, barely pulling away from your clit to speak. You shook your head with a whimper as the tears finally started to fall. The thing is though… you were getting close. It’s been so long since you’ve been with another person, let alone someone this talented.
“Stop...” You whined, bringing your hands down to push at his head.
“God- I can fucking feel you clenching down on my fingers. You are close aren’t you?” He looked up at you through his lashes with a glint in his eyes.
“We can’t have that though.” He said, removing his fingers and pulling away from your clit. “Not yet.”
“Why are you doing this?” You whispered, staring at his figure that was blurry with unshed tears.
“It’s nothing against you. The job leaves little time for.. personal activities… I saw an opportunity so I took it.” He all but shrugged. Instead of giving you a chance to respond, he pushed his fingers back in and sucked your clit into his mouth again. As his fingers curled against your walls in places that previous partners— and yourself— haven’t even discovered, you couldn’t hold back the sounds anymore.
“There you go.” He cooed. “Just give in and I’ll make you feel so good.” He mumbled against your clit before flicking his tongue against it.
“Stop.” You whined. In response, all he did was force another finger inside. You don’t know how he knew, but the second you neared the edge again, he pulled back, making you whine.
“Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked, slowly curling his fingers against your walls, but keeping his mouth away from your clit. “No boyfriend, no one night stands… Just you and your vibrator.” He chuckled, making your face heat up. “You really like that thing. It’s cute.”
“Fuck you.” There wasn't even a hint of malice in your tone. Just pure embarrassment and need.
“Yeah I bet you want that too. Don’t worry, there’s no fucking way I’m leaving here before getting my cock in this tight little cunt.” You let out a choked sob and turned your head to the side as your hips started moving against his hand. “I could feel you clench down on my fingers… dirty girl.” He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, then leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth again.
As you squirmed under him, you gripped the sheets hard enough to make your fingers hurt so that you wouldn’t move your hands to his hair— knowing you would try to pull him closer rather than push him away. He continued the assault on your cunt, his mouth and fingers creating utterly vulgar sounds that completely filled the room, adding to your humiliation.
He slowed to a stop again and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from protesting. Once he knew your orgasm had faded, he slowly curled his fingers against your walls as his other hand reached down to pull out his phone. He eyed it, then set it on the bed next to your thigh.
“If you give me what I want, I can speed all this up and give you what you want.”
“You’ll let me go?” That made him chuckle.
“That’s not what you really want.” The worst part is that it wasn’t… You wanted your orgasm that he’s been teasing you with for the past few minutes.
“You still haven’t told me what you want.” You said, changing the subject.
“Right to business then. Alright.” He removed his fingers suddenly and your hips flinched forward, chasing the pleasure. “I need to know the code to disarm the alarm at your work.”
“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t have access to that.” You said nervously, making him sigh.
“Please don’t waste my time. Tell me and I’ll make you come. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to resort to more… unconventional methods.” You tried not to scoff at that— how is this not already unconventional?
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m not going to do anything. All I have to do is to get you to talk, by any means necessary, and I’m very dedicated to my job. That’s why I stalked you for a couple weeks— to get to know you.” Your breath caught in your throat at the admission. How did you not notice that you were being stalked for weeks? “Unfortunately your family isn’t in the picture and you don’t really have friends— you definitely don’t have a boyfriend. All of that really limited my options. Luckily I like a challenge.” He smirked and you waited anxiously for where he was going with this.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tortured people before. But after watching you for so long, I knew I needed to do something special. You deserve so much more than just water boarding or a beating.”
“You’re fucking sick.” You whispered, trying not to cry at the fact that this was not his worst.
“I could’ve threatened to rape you instead— obviously I still would’ve done it after I got what I wanted— but I had a feeling you’d respond better to this. So, you give me what I want and I’ll make you come, it’s as simple as that.”
“Fuck you.” You spat, making him chuckle and check the clock on the nightstand for the time.
“I’m trying to be nice, sweetheart, but if you don’t give me what I want… I will hurt you.” He condescended. “And not in a normal way— no, that would be a missed opportunity.” He leaned over you until his breath fanned your lips. “You don’t give me what I want, and I fuck your ass instead. No lube, no prep, just my fat cock splitting you open until you beg for mercy.” He said lowly. You tried not to show any outward signs of fear, but judging by the look on his face, you knew you were unsuccessful. “And I won’t give it to you. I’ll keep fucking you until you eventually pass out from the pain, but even then I still won’t stop. You’ll tell me everything I want to know and more, just to have the slightest chance of me stopping.” Your body trembled as you stared up at him, watching his gaze move all over your face as he studied you.
“Now,” He whispered, “are you going to give me what I want or am I going to have to hurt you?” Your brows furrowed as you thought, trying not to cry. Maybe he’s bluffing? “Is this really worth getting raped in the ass over?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. When you remained silent, paralyzed in fear, he hummed and pursed his lips, then leaned back up. He flipped you onto your stomach and when you heard the zipper on his pants go down, you started thrashing. He placed a firm hand on your upper back to hold you down as he freed his cock.
“Wait!” You yelled, when you felt his length brush your ass. “Wait— please, I- I’ll tell you, just please don’t.” You cried, anxiously awaiting his next move. “Please— I’m sorry, Jackson. I’ll tell you.” You rushed out, breathing growing more labored as panic and fear consumed you.
“If you lie, I’ll know, and I’ll do it anyway.”
“I- I won’t, I promise.” You whimpered as he picked up the phone, then a moment later, held it to his ear.
“Yeah.. Are you ready for it?” You listened anxiously. “Go ahead.” He said, talking to you now. You told him and he repeated it back into the phone. “Good. Alright, let me know.” He tossed the phone back onto the bed.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You were starting to relax now that the threat wasn’t there anymore, but calming down made you feel all of the other emotions at the same time— anger for being stupid enough to fall for his charm, shame for enjoying the way he was pleasuring you, guilt for betraying your work so easily, and worst of all, desperation. You were desperate for more, and both of you knew that.
You let out a choked sob and he removed his hand from your back but you didn’t move, you just buried your face into the sheets and cried.
“You’re a crier?” He said, almost disgusted. “Those are the worst people to work with— actually I shouldn’t say people. It’s the women who cry, and usually before I even get to the fun part. The men that do cry at least wait until after they’ve been tortured for a while.” You couldn’t respond, not when you were focusing so hard on trying to take in oxygen through sporadic breaths with your face in the sheets. You were just glad he wasn’t pushing on your lungs anymore.
“God- will you quit it already?” He snapped, making you flinch. He suddenly leaned over you, his cock laying heavy on your ass. He brushed your hair back to see your face, then roughly grabbed a fistful to turn your head enough to make eye contact. “As long as you didn’t lie, you have nothing to worry about… So what’s the problem?” You knew he wasn’t genuinely asking.
“I- I,” You couldn’t hold down the sob crawling up your throat. “Please don’t. Please— I gave you what you want.” You whimpered, making him raise his brows, as if to say, really?
“Have you ever been raped before?” He suddenly asked, making you let out another quiet sob.
“No…”
“You’ll live.” He shrugged, as if that made it better. “Sure you’ll think about this every day for the rest of your life and you’ll hate yourself for craving it again, but you’ll survive.” You let out a stifled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut. “You won’t even hate me more than you’ll hate yourself, you know why? Cause all I did was give you what you want. You’re the sick fuck who actually enjoyed being raped.”
“Please stop.” You whimpered, wincing when he tightened his grip on your hair.
“I bet you really do want me to rape your ass. Are you just being coy, baby?” He cooed and you violently shook your head to disagree. “Let me ask again.” He reached down and shoved two fingers in your cunt. “Do you want me to rape your ass?” He repeated, barking out a laugh when you sobbed harder, but clenched down on his fingers. “God you’re fucking disgusting. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. I mean, who would want to date a girl who practically belongs in a brothel for fucks sake?” He started moving his fingers inside you, making you choke on a moan.
“Actually— not even that. You’re not worth any amount of money. You belong on the streets, just a free use whore for anyone who needs a warm hole to fuck, isn’t that right?”
“Fuck you.” You muttered weakly.
“Did I strike a nerve?” He cooed mockingly, curling his fingers inside you just a little bit faster. “Surely with a body like this you must be used to people objectifying you by now.” You weren’t. At least not to your face.
“How’d you even get your job, huh? You fuck your boss?” You bit the inside of your cheek to try and ground yourself, not let your emotions consume you. “Did this run through little cunt get you a promotion? Even if it didn’t, I’m sure the only reason you were hired was so that your coworkers could have a pretty little thing to look at everyday.” He snickered. Even though you knew that everything he was saying wasn’t true, tears were still brimming in your eyes from his words.
“Sluts like you are the worst kind. No one likes it when you play hard to get, that defeats the whole purpose of being a whore.” He removed his fingers from your cunt, making you hiss at the sudden loss. When he leaned back up and picked up his phone, you didn’t turn to face him, you just remained still.
“Lucky girl. Thank you for your cooperation.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Now that business is done, I’d say we’re long overdue for some pleasure, wouldn’t you? Get up on your knees.” He moved off of you to let you rise up, but quickly stopped you. “Did I say on your hands? You don’t deserve to be fucked with dignity.” He roughly shoved your head forward until you landed against the mattress with a grunt. “You deserve to be fucked like the whore you are. Now stick that ass up, you don’t want me to tell you again.” You adjusted your position on your knees and felt the bed shift as he moved behind you.
“Jackson, please.” You whimpered, turning your head to the side so he could hear you. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore. He ignored you and lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the thick head through your folds, spreading your arousal.
“You better hope your whore pussy isn’t too loose because if you can’t make me feel good, I’ll have to use a different hole.” As if to emphasize his point, he placed the tip of his cock against your asshole, making you stiffen. He quickly went back down to your cunt, then applied some pressure. When your walls finally gave in to the intrusion, you cried out at the stretch and tried to move away, making him grab your hips to hold you still.
“Ah, ah, ah— keep that fucking back arched.” He placed a hand on you and pushed down until your lower back was bent uncomfortably. “That’s it. Good little slut… Ready for more?” Before you could answer, his hips were snapping forward until he was flush with your ass, making you all but scream at the sudden force. Because of his hand holding you down, you couldn’t move away and the pressure of his hips against your ass was bending your back almost painfully.
“Huh… Tighter than I thought it’d be.” He said, almost to himself. And you had to keep from saying ‘no fucking shit’ because of the way he was stretching your walls to their limit. He started up a slow, but hard pace, dragging out, then snapping back in. Each thrust made you scream and he moved his hand from your hip to push your face into the sheets.
“Jesus- shut the fuck up already. You may want everyone in this damn hotel to know that you’re being fucked stupid right now, but I don’t. My line of work requires discretion.” Your moans quieted a bit and he let go of your head and leaned back up.
“And just so we’re on the same page, sweetheart, if you attract any attention and someone comes to the room, I’ll kill them and then you. I don’t need you alive for this part so you better do everything you can to convince me not to break your fucking neck.” He growled and you let out a muffled sob. His thrusts sped up, and you bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood so that you’d stay quiet.
“God- you fucking love this shit, don’t you? I might even have to keep you as a full time fuck toy.” You whimpered at the horrible thought, even though it made your clit throb. “Yeah I bet you’d like that too. Wouldn’t have to worry about anything else but pleasing me— no job, no social life, I’d take the burden completely off your shoulders and let you live the way you were meant to; as a worthless little fleshlight, desperate for cock anywhere you can get it.”
You’ve never been talked to like this before. Sure, past partners have indulged in some of your kinks, but never to this extent, and never this well. You could feel your mind slipping away from you too. The longer he fucked you, the harder it was to remember why you didn’t want him to.
“Are you on birth control?” He suddenly asked. You were confused about why he would care about being safe now, when you’re already in the middle of the act.
“No…?”
“Of course you’re not. God it’s like you’re fucking begging to be knocked up.” You suddenly realized how this night was going to end and it was like a bucket of ice water was poured on your head.
“W-wait,” You started lifting yourself into your elbows, but he placed a hand on the back of your neck and forced you down, keeping you there as he shushed you.
“There's no need to panic. It’s your own fault for not protecting yourself.” You let out a choked sob and he pushed you down harder into the bed to muffle your sounds. “And anyway, this is what you were made for so how about you just stop fucking whining and be a good little breeding bitch.” You were crying again now, almost hyperventilating into the sheets, but he didn’t let up, he just held you down harder and fucked you faster.
“I can’t say I necessarily want kids myself but maybe every nine months I’ll auction you off to the highest bidder— let you really fulfill your life’s purpose.” You couldn’t tell if this was a meaningless threat or not. “I’ll still whore you out during the nine months though, don’t worry. I’m not completely cruel.” He snickered. His thrusts were growing more erratic now and his breathing was getting more and more labored.
“Don’t you like that idea, baby? I’ll strap you down to a breeding bench and let all of those disgusting men that you pretend you’re above have a turn with whichever hole they want. You’ll be so fucking covered in come by the end of it that you won’t even recognize yourself.” He roughly grabbed your hair and pulled your head back uncomfortably, making you cry out. “I’d still have my fun with you though, don’t worry. No matter how many cocks you take in those pathetic little fuck holes, you’ll still be mine.” The softness of his tone was a harsh contrast to his words, making your head spin. The speed in which he pulled out and flipped you over made your head spin even more though. He leaned back over you and grabbed your cheeks with one hand while the other positioned his cock at your entrance again, pushing back in.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He said quietly and your brows furrowed as you looked away. “Tell me, baby. Tell me this whore body is mine to use however I want.” You whined loudly and he gripped your face tighter.
“I’m yours.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling. He jerked his hand back and slapped you across the cheek before placing it on your neck and squeezing hard. You looked away from him as a scared whimper escaped you.
“What was that?”
“I’m yours! I- I’m yours…” You sobbed out. His lips curled up into a satisfied smirk.
“Tell me you’re only good for being my cocksleeve.”
“I- I’m only good for being your cocksleeve.” You whimpered.
“Tell me you’re my breeding bitch whose only purpose is to make babies and take cock.” He growled, grip tightening on your neck. You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, then shook your head. “You know it’s true so fucking tell me.” He warned, pushing down on your windpipe until you gasped for air.
“I’m your breeding- bitch whose only purpose is…” You were actually struggling to breathe now, barely able to get the words out, but he didn’t seem to care, “to make babies and take cock.” You wheezed, making him loosen his grip. You gasped in a breath as your chest heaved.
“That’s right. Now… I know I said if you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want… and I can feel how your pathetic cunt’s about to cream all over my cock, but… like you said, your only purpose is to make babies and take cock. Breeding bitches don’t need orgasms.” The choked sob you let out was probably the worst part of all of this because it was genuine. You really were getting close and you were looking forward to that release— for one moment to just forget what was happening.
“No- no, please.” You whimpered, eyes filling with tears for an entirely new, more humiliating, reason. “Please, Jackson, I’ve been good. I- I did what you said— I gave you what you wanted.” You cried, bottom lip wobbling.
“I know, honey.” He cooed condescendingly. “Other than the insolence and fighting back, you’ve been so good, haven’t you?” Your frown deepened at that.
“Please, I’m sorry— I’m sorry, just please let me come,” Your voice had a whiny edge to it that you couldn’t control.
“You poor thing… Look at me, baby, there you go.” Once you were staring into those hypnotizing blue eyes, he continued, voice much lower now. “I want you… to remember this moment. I want you to remember the way you begged your rapist to let you come.” You swallowed down a whimper, throat bobbing under his hand.
“The next time you think you’re anything more than a pair of tits and a set of holes, think of this moment.” Your brows furrowed and you bit your trembling lip, trying not to cry. No matter how much you wished to deny it though, his words had you barreling toward your orgasm. “Do you understand?” He asked softly and you nodded, making his grip tighten on your neck.
“Yes.” You whispered, voice shaking.
“Good. Now I’m tired of listening to your fucking whining.” He said, pulling out, then flipping you back onto your knees and pushing your head down as he filled you again. He was chasing his orgasm now— his thrusts growing more frenzied and desperate, quiet grunts getting just a little bit louder. He brought his other hand up to join the one on your back, using it to hold himself up and keep you down at the expense of your lungs and breathing.
“God- I can feel your pathetic little fuck hole clenching down on my cock. Are you close?” All you could do to respond was make a muffled noise against the sheets. “You better not fucking come.” He spat. “You don’t want that pretty neck broken do you?” He asked, softer, making you let out a loud sob.
He was pounding you ruthlessly now, hips smacking your ass so hard you’d probably bruise. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust made you jolt each time and it was getting harder to stave off your orgasm. His movements started to slow but became rougher, almost pushing you forward from the intensity. When he finally stilled with a low groan, you whined and shifted uncomfortably. You could feel hot come filling you up with each twitch of his cock and every time he tried to push a little deeper, your back arched even more, to the point where it was starting to hurt, rather than just feel uncomfortable. He let out a heavy breath and pulled out, then sat back on his heels as he pulled your folds apart.
Hour two
(I know it’s cut kind of awkwardly but this one shot turned into 18k words so I had to cut it somewhere skdhdk)
I have some questions rq. Pls answer🙏🏻
I was maybe thinking of saying “hour 1” etc instead of “part 1” for each part since.. yk it takes place over the course of serveral hours lol. Is that dumb? Should I just keep it as “part 1”?
Also I chose the title when the fic was only the length of part 1 and im not sure if I should keep it or not so lmk if you think I should make it something that relates to the whole fic rather than just one comment in the first part lol
Taglist (join here)
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @halleysc6met @babaohhhriley (didn’t let me tag ->) @deceitfuldevout @crunchsworld @bluujaiwrites @idkdudsworld @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @aviamulier @xxorazz
410 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh Baby, You - svt smau
The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.
Genres: smau, romance, drama, comedy, angst, single parent au
Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab they/she reader x mystery member(s)
Warnings: coarse language, conversations about sex, mentions of pregnancy, mama/mom/mother is used to refer to reader's parental status sometimes, infidelity, light alcoholism, miscommunication as a plot device, some of the teenies are not so nice at times, slut shaming, angst, everything is unrealistically dramatic because this is basically a kdrama in text/twitter form. warnings may be updated as they come, but I will label chapters properly if it's anything major
Note: unfortunately, I did have to make the mc for this series have female reproductive organs because, well... that's the plot. I couldn't find a good way around it :( if anyone reading this is discouraged, please know that pretty much every other fic I've ever posted is gender neutral. So, if you think you might've liked this smau, please check out my masterlist! hopefully there will be something you like there :) ALSO! if anyone makes fun of Orion's name just know that it's the name of a precious baby cousin of mine and if you bully smau Orion you are bullying irl Orion!! do not touch him!!!
(new!) Updates will post when I have the time and motivation
The taglist is full! Leave a comment under the post linked here if you're not on the main taglist to be notified when Oh Baby, You is completed.
Profiles I: Orion's Prettyboy(gn) Posse
Profiles II: Wonwoo's Famous Friend and the Other Guys
Profiles III: Gyu and the Rise of Capitalism
1. Everybody Loves Vernon
2. Tens Among Tens
3. Grown Ass Men
4. I Hate This FUcking Family
5. The Ones Keeping Secrets
6. A LITTLE Curious
7. You Go Girl Get His Ass
8. The Calm
9. The Storm
10. It's Been a While
11. Fucked Up Coincidences
12. Not... a BAD Guy
13. Still So Affected
14. Just My Type
15. Nothing to Hide
16. Fists Up
17. Act Natural
18. Girl, They Blocked You
19. Plot Relevance
20. Actually it is a Date
21. It's All Pretty Confusing
22. Scripted
23. All it Takes is a Smile
24. Yoon Jeonghan is Watching
25. Completely Surrounded
26. No Such Thing
27. What Does That Mean
28. A Name I've Heard Recently
29. Can't Risk It
30. Errand Day
31. One Day at a Time
32. Confrontation
33. Not Looking to be a Parent Any Time Soon
34. What if I
35. For This Little Guy
36. Get Blocked
37. I'll Take Care of You
38. Messed Up, Stupid, and Jaded
39. You Fucked Up
40. That's For You to Figure Out
41. Need to Try Something
42. Recovery Mission?
43. Your Everything
44. You're Cute When You're Like This
45. Not Sponsored
46. This is Nothing
47. Promise? Promise
48. Hhrk
49. A Busy Afternoon
50. Cherry
51. Don't Freak Out
chapters loading...
OBY Ask the Characters Game
#seventeen smau#jeon wonwoo smau#seventeen social media au#svt smau#svt social media au#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo imagines#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt x reader#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#wonwoo smau#wonwoo social media au#jeon wonwoo social media au
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Congratulations, first of all, for reaching the milestone 💐💐💐 you deserve every single follower, and then some. Your art is always so pretty and I love how you bring us along during your process.
Secondly, would you like to make art based on this fic of mine? I'm thinking right at the beginning, when Eddie falls to his knees on stage and he and Steve have their "moment".
Thank you for hosting this fanart party ❤️
Steve tilts his head, and Eddie prepares for a kiss. He gets no lips, only tongue; Steve licks his mouth, from one corner to the other.
🎸🎸🎸
@2btheanswertothequestion
This one was SO MUCH FUN TO DO. I had trouble finding good references for the ambiance, but I love the result. Please, go read the fic, it's so good.
I know that I don't know many of the users that sent me requests a few weeks ago, but I've got a tiny story to tell about this one (I'm getting to know you little by little and I'm falling for every single one of you, you talented fuckers). They are the reason I am in Tumblr. It happens that I created an account many months ago, and didn't know how to use this, I just clicked "follow" to the tags and the blogs ST/Steddie related that posted fics and arts, and on my way to work, in the bus, I read the first chapter of a fanfic that made lose my stop (literally, I got late to the office that day).
Sad thing is the next time I opened the app, the fic was gone. I just remembered a few things and god knows that the search bar in this site works... well, works. Sometimes. I couldn't find it. I made it my personal goal to actually find this fic again, and this user, whose name I didn't catch because, again, I didn't know how to use Tumblr. This user pulled a full Cinderella on me, reading with intent every fic until the shoe fit. And I found it by mere coincidence, because they posted the third part, and I was like "WAIT IS THIS IT?". And it was it.
In the meanwhile, I actually completed my account, like you know, trying not to make it look like a bot (that I learned that it was a bad thing that could get me blocked), I put a profile picture, I made it decent, I learned how to use Tumblr (a bit). So, you see. This user, my beloved @2btheanswertothequestion is the one to blame that I actually stuck in this place. If you're wondering which one was the fic that got me so hooked up it was November Paramedic. (Here the AO3 link). Go read it, you're gonna love it.
(I'm kinda mad that they didn't asked me to draw the actual picture of the calendar, though. I have some ideas, I might draw it the future, because when I say that I hold this fic very close to my heart, I mean it.)
I really, really hope you like it, I worked hard on it and I did this with every bit of love stored in my heart ❤️❤️❤️
#inklessletter#trust the process#fanart#steddie#steddie fanart#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#st art#st fanart#digital art#artists on tumblr#concert#kissing#ink's art#final art#2btheanswertothequestion#fic#fic rec#sorry it took so long#it looks hot tho#piercings suit them so bad
860 notes
·
View notes
Text
cybersex | camgirl! x skz
prologue . chapter II
MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. content warnings will include the following for this chapter: mentions of body image issues, girl x girl sex, mentions of sex toys, female masturbation, reader is actually bi but i did not explicitly state it in the chapter, it's a pretty mild chapter
genre: skz x camgirl!reader, use of she/her/hers
wc: 2.2K
Chapter 1
It had been about 6 weeks since you had done the first live-stream, at the start, it was mainly about getting comfortable in front of the camera. Sana, being your mentor through this, started off by bringing you onto her stream. With Mina’s permission, Sana proposed the idea of allowing her to guide you through the first live. Mina trusted both of you deeply, she always understood that while this started off as a hobby for extra income it had become a job for Sana. In the same breathe, they would never compromise their relationship or boundaries. Mina expressed she was completely okay with it, she had even extended her offer to join you for this if it made you more comfortable as she often did join Sana in her streams as it brought even more views and money.
Clothing was the first obstacle. The idea of going full frontal made the idea of jumping into a frozen pool more appealing. So to get you to dip your toes in the water, less was more. It was all about a tease. Sana had gotten you to wear a black slip dress, no bra but panties were optional. As for your face, you had found a black lace masquerade eye mask that complimented the dress well. Similarly, Sana often had a white lace masquerade mask with bunny ears that stood tall, a lot of her viewers liked the mask even after her face reveal, it played into her branding and persona.
Sana had brought you into her cam room where she prepped you both for the live-stream. She went over all the rules and safewords, reaffirming you could stop the moment you felt uncomfortable or didn't want to do it anymore. She made sure you were familiar and settled in your headspace before beginning, you allowed her to do your hair and makeup a slow guide to calm the nerves. For Sana, these were opportunities to take her out of reality, into a space where she had control and power. It was her way of artistry, of performing, this was her stage and where she felt empowered. You had agreed to make the live no longer than an hour, so that’s where it would begin, you sat in front of Sana situated between her legs. Positioned perfectly behind the camera was a TV screen-sized monitor where you could see yourselves and the chat, comments rolling in once the camera was turned on. Mina sat in for the live quietly to take control of the live setup so she could immediately shut things off if you gave the signal, she often did this when Sana was soloing her streams.
Although you feared you’d back down the minute the camera turned on once the compliments rolled in, you felt the adrenaline pumping. It was a head rush to see so many gawking and begging to see more of you, it didn't matter who these people were or what they looked like. It was a rush you had never felt before. So there it was, your close friend feeling you up, kissing along your neck as you guided yourself through an orgasm with your legs spread in front of the camera for all her followers to see. By this point, the other two present in the room were shocked but turned on by the show you put on. All they could focus on was your moans and whimpers, it was almost angelic and the scenery was just as heavenly. Prior to this, an account was set up for to continue with this if things worked out. Mina had taken the initiative to pin your username that would link your account, amassing two thousand followers 20 minutes into the stream and by the end, you would walk away with a total of four and a half thousand.
Once the live had finished, you felt a little embarrassed by how quickly you felt you escalated things but Mina & Sana had reaffirmed there was nothing to be embarrassed by, they were proud of how well you had done. With the gifts and donations that you had accumulated from that first live you were able to start saving for your own equipment. You had decided to solo two more lives that week, getting more comfortable and only ever masturbating/teasing for the duration to situate yourself with things you liked and disliked. At this point, you were beginning to question if you even needed your waitress job. Thus began your search for your own apartment. You had maintained a consistent amount of streams twice a week for an hour over the next four weeks, allowing you to spend time apartment-hunting.
“You know, if I had known this little hobby would drive you out of my apartment, I would have never gotten you started,” Sana spoke as she made her morning coffee while you sat at the breakfast bar eyes lasered into the apartment listings. Sana enjoyed having you in her apartment but understood the importance of having your own space to continue doing these lives. “What am I gonna do with you gone?” she asked pouting as you hadn’t even so much as glanced at her.
“Please stop acting as if I’m dying or never coming back,” You grumbled as your eyes began to strain from the laptop's brightness. “You’ll still see me at work and I promise to come over all the time to continue to annoy you every waking chance I get.”
The apartment scene hadn’t been as glorious as it was. Luckily for you, a listing had just opened for a building not too far from where you lived. It was an open floor-plan apartment, with big arched windows and exposed brick walls. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an air conditioning unit, and hardwood. It was an interior designer's wet dream. The rent was just in your range and it was a second-floor apartment with a small balcony. You had arranged to see the apartment that day and were pleasantly surprised to find you could see the place in the next hour with only a 15-minute commute from Sana’s place. Apartments like these were hard to come by, the fear of not having a backup option ate away at you which is why you still sat at the computer. You slammed the computer deciding to just scout out the building now would be better instead of sitting here
“Well, I am off to see this place, do you want to come with?” You asked Sana as she sipped away at her coffee.
“I’d love to but I promised to take Mina to the farmers market this morning, she’s finishing up as we speak. Call me right after though and we’ll grab lunch together.” She kisses your cheek disappearing back into her bedroom. You hum in agreeance heading towards the door, you feel a familiar nudge at your leg only to find your fur baby. Jiji was your gorgeous white and grey cat that you found on your way home after a particularly terrible shift, she had always been there to get you through the hardest times.
“And you, my little muffin, I will see you later. Mommy’s gonna get us a nice big place for you to run and terrorize all on your own. Get you a nice big tree and the biggest fluffiest bed imaginable.” She purrs pleasantly as if she had a complete understanding of the promises you just made her.
After giving her a shower of kisses, you headed down the street to find the building. It was about 3 blocks over, it was a relief to know you could stay in an area that was still familiar to you. It was a quaint area, well-kept. There was a coffee around the corner you frequently passed on your way to work but never found the time to stop in or bothered to visit when the one closer to you had always just been across the street. You leaned against the brick wall that stopped at your hips
while waiting for the relator. Your ears perked hearing someone come out of the building. As you turned to peak at the stranger, you were met with two familiar but unexpected faces instead.
“Fancy seeing you here, stalking us?” Seungmin was the first one to say something as they came down the stairs.
“Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you two before this very moment,” You said as they now stood at the bottom of the stairs. Seungmin and Jeongin were two waiters from the restaurant you worked at. You were always friendly with both of them, but your friendship never went beyond the walls of the restaurant unless it was a particularly rough night and you all went out to the bar down the street for some after-work drinks.
“Are you wait for someone?” Jeongin asked. He always had such a cute that was simultaneously sharp and made him look older than he was. Seungmin on the other hand had a very boyish face, he was cute like a puppy but something in his mannerisms always said that he wasn’t as sweet as he may look.
“Sort of, I’m waiting on a realtor to tour an apartment here.”
“The one on the 2nd floor?” Seungmin asks in a higher pitch than you anticipated.
“Actually, yeah. How’d you know?” You ask as Jeongin mutters a ‘damn’ under his breath.
“We were looking at it ourselves, we wanted to upgrade the living space. It’s incredibly nice though, it’s big, and the rooms are huge too for an apartment like that. Hard to come by.” Seungmin says as he slaps a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. “You and Sana moving out together?”
“Oh no it's just me! I figured It was time to give her and Mina a space to themselves.” A half lie but truth be told, they did indeed need their own space.
“But it’s a two-bed-” Jeongins question gets interrupted by the realtor announcing himself.
“Hi, so which of you was touring the apartment today?” It is a short, stout man who speaks up his suit was a beige two-piece completed with a white button-down. You raise your hand in response. “Perfect! Follow me then.”
“Well, I’ll see you guys later!” You waive goodbye to them, Seungmin smiles with a waves, and Jeongin does the same with a look of confusion.
You followed the realtor up the stairs to the building entrance where he punched in the code. As you entered, someone from down the hall emerged from their place. He was tall with dark hair, he was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt, and his hair was pulled into a half ponytail with some strategically placed strands pulled out that perfectly showed off the ear piercings. He had a smock thrown over his shoulder, his eyes met yours as you passed him to the stairs, there was no denying how stunning he was. The stranger offered a wink as he walked out the door. Something in your gut told you that wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.
The tour of the apartment wasn’t very long, the photos online did not do the place justice. There was plenty of sun beaming through the window, the kitchen was painted a deep green that perfectly contrasted with golden wood and white wall accents. The master bedroom had plenty of space, the bathroom had a claw foot tub perfect for decompressing and aftercare pampered baths. You signed for the lease once you had your fill of the place were given notice that you could move in a week from that day.
—
A week came by faster than you anticipated, you had hired a moving company to move everything for you. Work at the restaurant was slammed, you were covering as many shifts as you could to give you extra cushion to take the following week off to unpack and rest. The next time you had saw Seungmin and Jeongin, you gleefully told them about taking the apartment, and they generously offered to help you with the move-in process. You declined their offer but warmly invited them to your house warming.
Fortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot, Sana had owned most of the furniture so you had free agency to decorate the place as you pleased. Part of the move-out was agreeing to share custody of Jiji, while she was your fur baby, she was also Sana’s. You had agreed on a week-to-week schedule, this was your off week while you prepared the place. In the hunt for the most lavish and aesthetic cat furniture, you bought and assembled a cherry blossom cat tree with a matching pink cat cave for your sweet girl. After a grueling 5 days of unpacking, readjusting, and shifting, you had finally completed the place.
Ordering so many toys, furniture pieces, and equipment for the 2nd room made you feel a little crazy. You prayed none of your new neighbors saw the number of packages that came over the days concealing the assortment of sex toys, lingerie, and camera equipment. Your camgirl room was finally complete and you had promised your viewers a special show for the long wait.
—
cybersex masterlist
a/n: apologies for the delay in upload. i'll have chapter 2 later tonight with the good spice. comment below or send my an ask to be added to the taglist !🤍
taglist (2/30): @skzooluvr @breadpuddingboys
#skz smut#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz hard thoughts#skz x you#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#jeongin x reader#hyunjin x reader#hyunybunnywrites#bang chan x reader#changbin x reader#lee know x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#han x reader#jisung x reader#skz fluff#jeongin smut#hyunjin smut#jeongin hard thoughts#skz x reader smut#hyunjin hard thoughts#cybersexseries
177 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
imageclassified
Untitled
cryptid-deer
CryptidDeer
restolinreviews
Restolin Hair Growth Supplement Review 2021
kokonoesweeb
Kokonoe's Weeb
occasional-owl
Dylan