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beardedjoel · 9 months

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closer | part twenty

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: joel wants to repair things, and you aren't so sure if you want them to be fixed. if you've learned anything about joel, though, it's that he's very persistent. 11.7k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), more angst!, mutual masturbation, phone sex, joel is out here TRYING his hardest a/n: this chapter is super long, i'm sorry if it feels a bit of a mess i just had a lot of ground to cover, and if i'm honest i was really nervous about this after the last chapter hoping i could live up to everyone's expectations and desires for this next part! i really hope everyone enjoys it, there's a lot to unpack here!!! as always comments and reblogs are so appreciated, i love you all!

Everything fuckin’ hurts.

Those are Joel’s first thoughts as he wakes the next morning. Emotionally, physically, all of it. Sleeping on a couch at his age wasn’t doing him any favors, so he tries to stretch out all the kinks and soreness riddling his body now when he sits up.

He glances at your bedroom door, still tightly shut from last night. and wonders if you’ll ever emerge this morning, or just try to wait it out until he leaves.

Joel lost count of the amount of times throughout this mostly sleepless night on your couch that he did the same thing, glancing at your door and itching to get up and go open it. Just wanting to comfort you, to talk to you, to say everything that was on his mind. He doesn’t even know if it would even be fair to you to try after what he’d done last night, not even including the shit he pulled this past month. In fact, he feels like he doesn't know much of anything these days.

This last month had been the absolute worst of his entire life. Worse than when Betty had left him, worse than when they’d had their relationship ending fight and she told Joel he ruined her life in as many words. He had nobody to blame but himself in this situation, where with Betty at the least she’d had her own hangups that led to where they’d fallen apart.

He thought he’d learned from it, from the horrible way things had ended with Betty. He’d learned to encourage any girl he’d be lucky enough to have in the future more, to never let them think they could be held back by someone like him. He’d thought he was doing that for Betty before, but by not wanting to leave Austin, not leave everything he’d built there, he was suddenly her villain after years of resentment, and it hurt even now to think of someone he’d cared for so deeply looking at him that way.

Betty had shattered him, through and through, he knew that, and now you were paying the price. Now you were looking at him that way, and it was worse than he could have imagined.

Joel runs a hand over his tired face, ruminating on everything that had led him right here, to sleeping on your couch instead of happily in your bed with his arms wrapped around you. He didn’t know if what he was doing was the right thing, it sure as hell hadn’t felt like it. But how could he let you resent him someday, just like the woman he’d thought loved him before had? He feared that now everything he’d worked to avoid was coming true anyways, that there wasn’t a chance in hell you could ever forgive him.

He felt like he should stand by what he did, breaking things off with you. That was what he should do - for your sake, and for his. Things still hurt now, but if you were ever going to be able to live the life you deserved, he still wondered if he needed to stay out of it for that to happen.

Maybe. Maybe not. He went back and forth countless times a day ever since he’d left your apartment that night before he was too exhausted to think anymore, then crashing into bed and finding that sleep didn’t come easily to him most nights.

He had to do something, some kind of olive branch. It felt pathetic, but all he could think of right now was to bring you coffee and a breakfast sandwich, the one thing you’d said always cured yours and Sofia’s hangovers. If last night was any indication, you seemed like you’d be needing it. Joel quietly creeps over to the side table next to your front door, where you’d haphazardly tossed your purse last night and digs through it, grabbing the keys to your apartment before heading out.

Google told him there was a place relatively close by, only three blocks away that had both of the things he was looking for. With a black coffee for him, an iced vanilla latte and breakfast sandwich for you, he headed back, practically sweating with how much he was rushing to get back before you woke up. If you woke up and saw him gone… his heart sank at the extra pain that might cause you to think he’d just left this morning without even bothering to talk at all.

Joel breathed a sigh of relief when your bedroom door was still closed as he passed into the entryway of your apartment. He set down your food and drink on the counter and perched himself on the edge of the couch, drinking his coffee and tapping his foot nervously. He’d decided somewhere between his walk to the coffee shop and back that it was time to lay it all out there for you, to try to fix some of this damage.

He was ready to do whatever it took to start fixing things, if it was possible. That horrible night, anger and fear had clouded his thoughts to a point where he wasn’t thinking straight, he just knew he needed to run away from what he feared. It turned out to be the biggest mistake he could have made, and he was miserable.

Even if you wouldn’t have him back (he expected that much), he could say his piece and offer apologies for all the stupid shit he’s done. When he hadn’t seen you it was easier, of course, to try and stay away, not say all the apologies he knew were necessary. But now that he was faced with you in the cold light of day, he knew that it was the right thing to do.

When shortly after, he thinks he hears noise from inside your bedroom, he stiffens and tries to steel himself for whatever uncomfortable conversation could be coming. You crack your bedroom door open slightly, just enough to peer out and see that Joel is still here, sitting on your couch with a coffee in hand, a cup you recognize from your favorite nearby shop.

Joel’s heart thumps hard in his chest as you emerge, having changed into a pair of pajamas and cleaned your face of all your smudged makeup, looking tense. You stand near your doorway, leaning back against the wall, folding your arms across your chest.

He clears his throat, willing his voice to come to him. “Mornin’,” he croaks out, voice still a bit hoarse from the early morning and not having spoken much for the day yet.

You purse your lips slightly, beginning to fiddle with your hands in front of you anxiously and looking in his direction, but not quite at him.

“Er, good morning,” you say, your bottom lip going into your mouth as you chew relentlessly at it. “Look-” you start, but Joel starts speaking at the same time, creating an awkward interruption between the two of you.

“Got you some breakfast,” he says, gesturing to the counter. You turn around to see the latte and small bag housing the breakfast sandwich and your lips twitch slightly, but you will yourself not to smile. “Breakfast sandwich, the hangover cure, right?” Joel adds, and you huff a small chuckle before grabbing everything off the counter and sitting down at the kitchen table. This way, you can face Joel but not have to invade his personal space too much.

“Thanks,” you reply, digging into the treats Joel had brought you. “Really needed this. I drank too much last night… I don’t think I can do that again.”

Joel passes you a polite smile and understanding nod, his hands now in his lap, balled into fists. “Y-you were gonna say somethin’, but would it be okay if I speak first? You were right last night, we should talk,” he asks, and you perk up a little, peering at him skeptically.

“Oh, sure… okay,” you say, bracing yourself for whatever you might hear next. Some chastisement, some extra damage to inflict on you, most likely. Joel seems much calmer than last night, though, and it gives you hope this could be a much better conversation.

“I… I’m sorry. Last night was a mess,” Joel breathes. “Shouldn’t have come just to yell at ya. I wasn’t gonna, was gonna leave you be, figured it was just drunk calls or somethin’, to be honest. My worries got the best of me, thought maybe you were in trouble, like with Vince… I should've just called ya back like a normal person and avoided this whole fuckin’ mess. Should’ve… done a lot of things,” Joel breathes out, a pained expression on his face before he continues. “Like called you or messaged you in the last month for starters. I’m real sorry about that, hope you know. I know that just sayin’ it once doesn’t mean much, but I had to.” Joel’s eyes cast down about halfway through his speech, flicking back and forth from the floor to your face, trying to read any kind of reaction or emotion from you.

You sit, stunned with a piece of the breakfast sandwich still in your mouth. You have to force yourself to chew, bringing yourself back to reality as you process what Joel is saying.

“Thank… you for saying all of that,” you start, taking a long pause to try to get your head on straight. It’s too fucking early to be having this talk, but you know you need to power through it. “I know I should have just left it alone too, but you can’t blame me for wanting some kind of answers or closure from you, right? After what you did? Why in my drunkest state I resorted to spamming you like a crazy person?”

“I know… I know…” Joel says quietly before putting his head in his hands for a moment. “Not crazy at all, don’t say that. I understand, and I -” he takes a deep breath, having a hard time putting his feelings into words.

“I should have called. The next day. That night, even. You don’t know how close I was, wasn’t like I walked out and felt all peachy, forgettin’ you existed or somethin’.” Joel thinks quickly about how he’d lose count if he thought about all the times he almost called you, had a message ready to type just to not know what to say in the end.

You stiffen at his irritation, and Joel’s eyes flash to you, noticing the change. “Sorry… shouldn’t be gettin’ so defensive like that. I’m just angry with myself,” he says.

Your brows pinch together a bit, having not considered that as a possibility for some reason. “You are?” you ask as soon as the thought pops into your mind.

Joel’s eyes widen, not believing that you’d believe he couldn’t possibly be angry with himself in this situation. “‘Course I am, sweetheart,” he says softly, before catching himself. “Sorry, again, Jesus, I’m screwin’ this up, callin’ you those names and stuff. I’ll stop that, promise,” Joel rambles on, swallowing hard before he continues. “I’m very angry with myself. Least I could’ve done was given you a call, but I was feelin’ hurt, and I let that stop me from thinkin’ about how you were feelin’.”

“Yeah, you did, Joel,” you say plainly, taking another bite of your breakfast and trying to keep your face neutral. The last thing you want right now is to show him how badly it broke you, how badly it’s still breaking you right this minute to have him sitting in your apartment after a month of nothing from him. You want him to see that you won’t just immediately fold under him again, that you want to have time if you two could possibly repair any of this. You’re suddenly glad that last night didn’t go the way your drunk self had wanted it to - you’d have slept with Joel in a heartbeat then and would have been in a much worse position this morning.

“Just wanna own that, y’know. That I fucked up there,” he says with a nod, more to himself. “And lots of places.”

“Well. Thank you for doing that.” You know your tone is cold, but you’re afraid to not put some distance between the two of you right now, afraid of what thoughts could come spilling out from your mind if you let your guard down. His face is scrunched up in an emotion you hardly ever got a chance to see on him, his eyes bloodshot and beard overgrown. Now that you see him in the light of day, he kind of looks like hell, if you’re honest. You feel a twinge of pity, and while you’re not usually one to ignore that kind of thing towards someone you care about, for your own self preservation right now, you do.

“Not to assume, or anything, but I’m sure it hurt you. Just ‘cause I was hurt, shouldn’t have hurt you too. I wanted so bad to avoid all my shit from the past, and yet I’m in the same situation… seein’ the way you’re lookin’ at me right now.” He breathes out a long sigh, full of hurt that he hurt you. “I’m real proud of you for everything with the job, and I regret not bein’ able to say that.”

Well shit, now you are going to pity him a little bit. Just a little, you think, that’s all.

You aren’t able to contain the small, reserved smile that pulls at your lips when you hear his words. You’d never doubted that Joel could be sorry for the way things had ended up, but hearing him say so much, be so vulnerable with you, it’s a big start. He’d completely shut down that night in a way you’d never seen him do before, and slowly but surely, he’s opening back up for you.

“Thanks, Joel. I really… appreciate that. I know this has been… well, fucking awful. I know I have my part in this too, but I hope you understand now that my decisions were mine, and not yours to make. I was trying… to keep us together because that’s what I wanted.”

Joel nods quickly, his head bobbing, shaking his already sleep riddled hair everywhere. “‘Course,” he says. “I was afraid if I didn’t do what I did that it would end up bad, and well, it did anyway. Don’t know what I was thinkin’... truth is I wasn’t… thinkin’, that is.” He lets out an exasperated chuckle, one where you know the situation isn’t funny at all, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

“I know, Joel. I get it, what you were trying to do…” you say absentmindedly, eyes drifting off to a spot just past him. You’re quickly running out of steam, feeling the emotions starting to overwhelm you, taking you back to that night when he’d left you. “It just really fucking hurts, the way you went about it,” you add on, quieter now.

“I know, honey, I know. Can’t believe how much I’ve hurt you, how bad I messed up.” Joel puts his head in his hands again, leaving it there and shaking it into his palms. You heard his voice waver on the last words, and you know he’s embarrassed, trying to hide himself from you. Joel thinks over and over that he doesn’t deserve any of it, any of your time, any of the comfort you might give him if you see he’s emotional.

You stand up, the chair scraping across the hardwood floor, piquing Joel’s attention but he still doesn’t lift his head from where it sits, hanging low into his hands. You take a deep breath, worrying you’re about to make the wrong decision, but fuck it, you can’t stop caring about this man no matter how hard you try.

“Joel…” you say quietly, approaching where he sits on the couch. He lifts his head slightly and shakes it.

“N-no, shouldn’t be comforting me,” he blurts out. You ignore him and sit stiffly next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re allowed this, Joel. I am really fucking mad at you, but you still deserve that. Let’s hug, okay? I think we both need it.“ you swallow, feeling unsure of yourself, but proud that you’re trying to set some boundaries. “After that, I think you should head home,” you add on, feeling almost pained to say it, wishing you two could sit here for hours and rebuild what you had, but you know it’ll take more than that. Most of all, it’ll just take what time does best - healing.

Joel lifts his head and turns it to the left, looking into your eyes. His are rimmed red and bloodshot as ever, all the anger you’d seen in them last night completely faded into a hopeless despondency. Despite how completely wretched with regret he looks right now, you can’t help but continue to notice how damn handsome he is. You give him a weak smile that he returns immediately. You stand, urging him up to stand with you by tugging at his hand, and he wraps his arms around you tightly, the urgency in his touch scaring you for a moment that you could fall into its trap. You’re stronger than that right now, you know. You pull yourself close and return the hug, getting a quick breath in of his scent and essence, trying to burn it into your memory before you even realize you’re doing it.

You don’t know where things will go from here, now that it feels like so much is out on the table. Joel has shown you a side you’d never expected to see after he decided to end things that night, and it’s pulled at your heartstrings more than you’d care to admit. As much as you want to just curl yourself into his arms and pick up where you left off, you want to give yourself more respect than that, feeling like you can finally be a bit stronger than the spell Joel has always had you in.

Maybe this is what he always wanted from you - this full independence from him, not taking him too seriously in your life. But why does it make you so sad now that you’ve gotten it?

“Thank you,” Joel murmurs before pulling away. “For listenin’ and not screamin’ me out the door.”

“You know I’m not the screaming type,” you quip back, before realizing the possible double entendre in the words. “I mean… when talking… when… shit, sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off, and Joel lets out a warm chuckle, the first real laughter shared between the two of you in ages. It feels so fucking good, so natural, but you push the thought away as quickly as it came into your mind.

“I got you, don’t worry,” Joel says reassuringly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping further away, making his way to your front door.

He turns back towards you, and you can see him bite his lip, hesitation written all over his face. “Don’t expect you to forgive me or anythin’ right now, but could I - could I call you sometime, maybe? Or text? Or somethin’?” he asks, and you can’t mask the way your eyebrows lift in surprise, and the way you almost immediately answer “yes”, to him. The desperation in his voice and sad brown eyes pulled at you, your heart tightening inside your chest.

“I don’t know, actually. Can I… think about it? Maybe text you first if I decide it’s okay?” you say, trying to appear more confident than you actually feel right now. You can feel yourself folding quickly, and need Joel to get out of your apartment now, or five minutes ago, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Joel nods, turning his lips down in an expression of consideration. “Sure, ‘course, whatever you need,” he replies, and you breathe a sigh of relief that he’s willing to agree to it.

“Thanks,” you say, giving him another tight smile. He dips his head respectfully before reaching for the doorknob.

“See ya,” he says, and you echo his words back, staring at the door with wide eyes long after he’s left. This is too remnant of the night he’d walked out and left you staring at the door, so you force yourself to move and be productive for the day, getting some cleaning done and rewarding yourself with a hot shower and plenty of couch time afterwards.

You have so much to think about now, and while you feel relieved that Joel had been able to start clearing the air between you two today, you feel uneasy, completely at war with yourself. The part of you that wanted him back in your life, wanted to make up for every bit of lost time was fighting hard with the part of you that felt too hurt to even consider letting him near you again.

Ultimately, you knew which side you’d choose, and half hated yourself for it.

It didn’t take long for you to decide to take Joel up on his offer of rebuilding contact between the two of you. Later that week, after spending sleepless nights toiling over it, you pull out your phone and type out a message to him while you sit on your couch, shamelessly eating cheese right off the block one evening after work. A situation like this called for comfort food in any way you could get it.

You: Hey there… I think maybe I wouldn’t mind a text here and there from you if that’s still what you want.

There it was: simple, not too eager, only inviting in sporadic contact from him, instead of a full blown tidal wave of Joel. Not even ten minutes later your phone buzzes next to you, and you find your heart jump in your throat, and curse yourself quickly for such an emotional reaction. You’re supposed to be playing it cool, here.

Joel: Thank you, promise I won’t spam you. Hope you’re havin a good night.

Joel’s message didn’t invite anything in return, it was simple and sweet, just a well wish for you. But you could help the itching feeling in your fingers as they hovered over the screen, wondering if you should say anything back. You feel a small swell of pride when you decide against it, half tempted to tell Joel your pathetic little eating situation just to get a laugh out of him. You’re not supposed to care if he thinks you’re funny anymore, anyways.

Over the coming days and weeks, you go about your life, feeling like the tiny door in your heart cracks open a little more each time Joel texts you. They’re usually just sweet little messages - nice wishes for your day or a thinking of you. Each time, you craft a delicate response to keep that stupid heart door from opening wide and letting you get sucked in again.

Joel: Hope work has been good today, know it can stress you out.

You: Thank you 😊 you too!

—

Joel: Saw your parents today, can’t believe they’re still being nice to me. They seem to be doing well and Benny seemed happy to see me too

You: They’re too nice for their own good! Benny loves you though, he was so obsessed when he stayed over your place

—

Joel: Don’t forget to eat today… I remember you said there was lots of deadlines this week and you tend to do that sometimes

You: Ugh you got me on that one. Totally was about to skip lunch… promise I’ll eat something.

Joel: You better

—

Joel: Hope you had a great week, you deserve it 🙂

You: Thank you Joel. Hope you’ve been doing okay too

Joel: I’m tryin that’s for sure

The messages carried on much like that, one every few days, until they didn’t. You both started to get a bit more detail into messages after almost two weeks of just those small interactions between you two, and you found you didn’t really mind much at all.

Joel: Started a new season of Lover’s Paradise and I still don’t understand half of what these folks are saying or doing. Need a young people translator or something. This mean I’m really getting old?

You bite back a laugh at his message, kind of loving that he’s still watching Lover’s Paradise even if you two aren’t together.

You: Tell me which episode and I’ll help you out old man

Joel: Ouch… hitting me where it hurts.

You: Just can’t help myself 😂 you need my young eyes and ears on this one

Joel: Damn right I do. Alright, season eight. No rush, but also I’m totally lost so

You spend the next hour watching the first episode of season eight, not having seen this season before. You wished that Joel was right here next to you so you two could get back into the familiar banter you’d find yourselves in when watching the show. Instead, you text him a rundown of the major drama and encounters you figured he’d have asked you about if he were right here next to you. When you finish, you find that you haven’t stopped smiling nearly the entire hour you two live-texted the show together, and force yourself to frown.

You’re supposed to still be mad at him, right?

—

Joel: Weird question… but do you have my blue Astros shirt?

You: It’s possible…

You: Oh yeah I just found it actually, I think you left it here.

Joel: Or a known shirt thief stole it like some of my other clothes

You: Who are you calling a thief? Couldn’t be me?

Joel: Judging by the amount of my shirts that mysteriously went missing after I met you, I’d say the finger points itself

You: You have no proof!

You laugh again, and realize that shit, you think you just might be flirting with Joel again. You’re not sure if you should reign it in or let things just flow naturally the way they have been. You’re being reminded how much you love talking to him and how sweet and funny he can be with you. When he responds with a photo of you, sleeping in his bed, sprawled out with the covers kicked off, clad only in one of his Miller Contracting t-shirts and panties, you gasp.

Joel: Got some proof right here.

Joel: Couldn’t bring myself to delete it, I can if you want.

You: Literally gasped… can’t believe you took that.

You: And no, you keep it. But now I’m wondering how many more of those you have.

Joel: My camera roll did seem to fill up once my shirts started going missing. Weird coincidence

You: 😠 you’re dead, Miller

Joel: Like to see you try.

Your face hurts from smiling so long from reading and rereading the messages that you consider locking your phone away for the rest of the night.

—

You wake up one morning to a text from him one morning, time stamped at 12:43am and your eyes widen.

Joel: I'm thinking of you

Joel: Sorry if that’s me manipulating or something, read about all kinds of stuff online, but fuck I can’t stop thinking of you right now. Need you to know I miss you.

There was so much to unpack there that you spent the entire morning at work completely distracted by it. The most obvious thing, the elephant in the room, was the time. That late and you had to wonder if there was a specific reason he was thinking of you, and your thighs clamped together slightly at the thought of it. Shit, you missed his body so much, all the things he could do for you and to you. Not to mention the moments after, when you’d get your best talking done, just lay and gab to each other for ages sometimes, until one of you fell asleep. It had been so blissful, but you remind yourself those days are in the past.

You kept reading the message over and over, and the thing that stuck out the most was his comments about what he had been researching online. It almost made you laugh, how dad-like that was to be Googling and reading up on manipulation in relationships, or whatever the hell he’d gotten up to. On the other hand, it warmed your heart, showed he was trying to learn about himself, about his own baggage that had led to the way things ended with you two.

You’ve spent hours poring over the words, trying to decide how you should respond, or if you should at all. It was about to open a can of worms you weren’t sure you were ready for. And yet… you seemed unable to help yourself right now.

Fuck, I can’t stop thinking of you.

The words practically swim in front of your eyes while you try to get work done on your computer, taunting you and causing you to feel an ache between your legs that hasn’t made an appearance in quite a while. Maybe it was the loneliness, the missing Joel that influenced you right now, but you sigh, taking a deep breath before picking up your phone.

You: Thinking what about me?

Before you can debate it anymore, you press send, and your hands shake slightly as you toss your phone on your desk, not even wanting to know what the response will be due to your embarrassment. Did that seem too desperate? He was the one practically saying he was touching himself to the thought of you at 1:00 in the morning, so you decide to cut yourself some slack.

You wait impatiently, and thirty minutes later Joel’s response comes through and you feel your throat tighten when you read it.

Joel: Think you can guess…

You: Can I call you tonight?

Joel: Anytime

Now that it’s out in the universe, you have no room for regretting taking this step. You couldn’t help but feel for Joel these last few weeks when you saw how hard he was trying. Everything you’d talked about that last morning you saw him had cut deeper and deeper the more you thought about it. Sure, he messed up so badly that you were still angry about it, and he had more than his share of making up to do for it. But you missed the man you’d been with, and now this version of him was slightly tainted from the nearly perfect seeming boyfriend you’d found yourself with before. But you were finding that this tainted version of Joel wasn’t too bad, after all.

When it came down to it, Joel was scared. He was afraid of your love being too much, of being someone that wasn’t worth your time, love, and energy in the end. How could he think differently when the last time he had all of that, it blew up in his face? You’d known about it from passing mentions and a few times he shared some details of that breakup, but now that you saw the effects of that past relationship, you felt sorry for him. All you had wanted was to show him how much he could mean to you, and it had backfired for the both of you.

You think you’d always want Joel. Even if you hadn’t been texting these last few weeks, even if he’d never shown up at your apartment that night when you called him over and over, you’d still want him. You’d still… love him. And it made you angry that you couldn’t stop it, couldn’t un-feel it even with how much he’d hurt you.

But he was learning. He was on Google, looking up how to be better in a relationship, for Christ’s sake. Sure, it wasn’t therapy, but he was trying things in his own Joel way, and it made your heart wrench so hard in your chest it went right down to your stomach, making you feel sick half the time.

So yes, you wanted to hear his voice tonight. And as for anything that happened after he picked up your call…that was your own decisions to grapple with later.

Joel sits eagerly at home, the promise of hearing your voice on the other end of his phone tonight almost too much for him to bear.

He was trying to be restrained, trying to keep his messages short but cordial to you, just to let you know he still cared, trying to make up for things without suffocating you. But last night he hadn’t been able to help himself when he woke up from dreaming about you with a hard on that was practically painful from the minute he’d opened his eyes. As he was palming the front of his briefs, tracing the outline of himself in his hands, he’d reached for his phone and sent you the first message.

“Fuck,” he whimpered quietly to himself as his hand snaked into his briefs and wrapped it around his throbbing cock. He missed the way your soft hands felt around it so much, the way you’d giggle for him and moan and scream his name. It was all too much, the dream he’d just had about you had been too real.

Images of you riding him flashed through his mind as he began moving his hand up and down, collecting the precum leaking out of his tip and spreading it along his shaft. He felt like some dirty old man thinking of you, his significantly younger ex, and getting off on it while you lay sleeping at home and unaware of all of it. But he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop the flashes of you that kept invading his thoughts while he built up a steady pleasure in his core.

Your perfect ass passed through his thoughts next, memories of it bouncing pleasantly as he slammed his cock into you and left you in pieces, whimpering and crying out for him. Oh fuck, his hand was nothing like that perfect, tight pussy of yours, so lacking in comparison. Joel’s breathing quickened as he got close on every thought of you he could muster up before he groaned out, spilling warm ropes of cum into his fist and laying back to catch his breathing.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have done that. He’d been actively avoiding jerking off to you out of some private respect he was trying to give you, that it would somehow be crossing a line if he allowed himself pleasure at the thought of you after hurting you so badly.

After he washed his hands, cleaned up and got back into bed, he sent you the second message of the night, remembering all of the random relationship articles he’d been reading. It started last week, when he stumbled upon some relationship forum talking about control and age gaps in relationships and it had made his heart sink when he realized he actually really was part of the problem, despite how aware he’d thought he was being.

So here he was, trying to be mindful that that first message may have been too suggestive, trying too hard to get you back on his side by manipulating you in some way. He had to find some balance - he couldn’t think every single message he sent to you was some kind of tactic, but he did need to be mindful of giving you the space you seemed to want. Every reply you’d sent to him at first had been short and to the point, still friendly but trying not to get too close again, so he wanted to maintain that energy until, or if, you ever felt ready to go further. And lately, it had seemed like you were giving more and more of yourself in the conversations, sometimes texting him back throughout the entire day.

When you responded to his late night horned up messages while Joel was at work the next day, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He was starting to worry that he’d surely screwed up this new rhythm you two had found together, steadily building up a semblance of a friendship again, and had half expected you not to even respond.

Instead you’d taken his text and ran with it, your response only having one meaning behind it as far as he was concerned. Joel found himself tentatively excited when you’d even asked to call him tonight, wondering exactly what this would mean for you two.

He could barely focus the entire evening, sitting around trying to distract himself. It was fully possible you wouldn’t call, after all, maybe you’d decide against it, and rightfully so, he thinks with a twinge of sadness. He couldn’t expect that you were ready for that just yet. His phone rings around 8:00 and Joel half jumps up off the couch, scrambling to answer it with fumbling fingers.

“Hello?” he says, his voice rough as he clears his throat.

“Um. Hi,” your little voice comes through his speaker, sounding somewhat shy. Christ was it music to his ears, though, hearing just those two sounds from you.

“Hey,” Joel replies, “Wh-what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing. I just… we haven’t talked in a while.”

“We talk pretty often, it seems,” Joel replies carefully. Not nearly often enough for him, but he’s been taking what he can get, what he feels is appropriate right now.

“I guess. Just thought I should hear your voice,” you say back, your voice slightly raspy with that end of the day tone that Joel has always adored.

Joel chuckles a little bit. “That so? Well it’s nice to hear yours.”

“You too…” you reply, trailing off into a somewhat awkward silence. “What’re you doing?”

“Watchin’ TV. Waitin’ for you to call, mostly,” Joel replies nonchalantly, having no shame in admitting just how eagerly he’d been awaiting you.

“Really? I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna… I went back and forth.”

“No no, s’okay. Wanted you to call only if you wanted to do it. Don’t get me wrong, glad you did, but if you’re not sure about all of it, s’okay.”

“I don’t know, I’m just nervous. I don’t want to get hurt,” you reply, unsure of how to explain the myriad of fucked up feelings that have been plaguing you recently. You’d let Joel back in just enough to feel deeply for him once again, and felt like you were risking everything for it. You didn’t think you could survive going through what he put you through another time, so you wanted to be sure this time that he’d stick around.

“I know, s’the last thing I want, too,” Joel says, musing on your words. “Hope you trust it’s just a phone call, nothin’ more. We’re just talkin’, no pressure. Can hang up whenever you want, in fact, and I won’t be offended,” Joel says, and you can hear that he’s nervous, that he wants to say all the right things to you so badly. “Well, maybe a little bit offended but don’t worry ‘bout that,” he adds with a light hearted chuckle.

You laugh a little, Joel’s reassuring words right now easing some of your tension. “Thanks. Just a phone call, then.”

Joel nods, giving an “mhm” into the phone for you. “So, what have you been doin’? Besides waitin’ to call me,” he asks with a playful hint in his tone.

You lay on your bed, fiddling with your hands anxiously as you crush your phone in between your shoulder and cheek. “Nothing really… just at home after work, made some dinner, the usual stuff. I…er-” you say, unsure really of what you expected from this phone call, but it wasn’t this. The way you keep trailing off suggests to Joel, being no stranger to you, that you have more to say.

“What is it, huh? You seem like you gotta say somethin’.”

“Okay, fine. Your texts… last night.”

Joel freezes up a little, feeling a slight wave of shame washing over him for what he’d done. That maybe you’d instantly realized the exact context of the messages - it wasn’t like it wasn’t obvious if you had half a brain.

“Right. Sorry ‘bout that. Was just one of those nights, y’know? Really shouldn’t’ve made things weird like that.”

“Yeah no, it’s okay, I uh, didn’t mind it.”

“Oh,” Joel says quietly, the realization fully hitting him now. The beginnings of an excited smirk pull on his face. “Did you like knowin’ I was thinkin’ of you?”

“I- I think I did,” you say simply, your voice seeming to unintentionally go down an octave. “I liked it. I mean I think of you too, seems only natural.”

Joel feels relief and too many other emotions to even begin to name at your response. His heartbeat quickens with the possibilities before you two right now, and if they’re heading in the direction he thinks it might, he worries he’s in trouble now. Once he starts down that road again, how could he ever go back?

“Why so late, huh? When you thought about me?” you ask him, silently cursing yourself for being unable to help the words coming out of your mouth right now. You know what this is leading to, but you’re not entirely thinking with your head at the moment.

“Couldn’t sleep. Woke up, actually, from a dream.” Joel wants to divulge everything, all the dirty little details of what you two had been doing in his sleep, but he wants to make sure you feel in control of the conversation more than he is, that this is really what you want.

“About me?” you ask, your eyebrows raising.

“‘Course it was, why else would I text ya,” Joel says with a chuckle.

“I dream about you too… it always feels good but kind of sad, too. Like you’re right there with me, and it’s amazing, and then...” You’re finding it easy to be so open with the phone between you two - you don’t know that you’d have the guts to say any of this to Joel’s face if he were here.

“Oh, honey… I’m sorry,” Joel replies sympathetically, his voice softer.

“I shouldn’t even wish you were here when that happens, but I do, you know.”

“I do too, it’s okay,” Joel says quietly, a soft confidence in his words.

“Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Will you tell me about your dream?”

“Honey… you really want to do this? You know this is different from the way we’ve been talkin’ lately.” Joel licks his hips nervously before pulling them into his mouth, awaiting your response.

“Yes…” you breathe out quietly. “I do.”

“You’re sure?” Joel asks, desperately hoping you two aren’t making a mistake right now. You’re not sure if you’re sure, you’re not sure of a damn thing right now other than the fact that you miss Joel fucking Miller.

“Yes, please Joel, I need you right now, haven’t stopped thinking all day about it,” you tell him, and you hear a sharp hiss through Joel’s teeth over your phone speaker.

That was all Joel needed to hear to fold completely, the fact that you needed him in any way felt like a miracle. Fuck, it got his cock hard immediately just to hear those words from you.

“Okay, baby, let’s start out nice and slow, then.” He shifts his weight on the couch, sitting back and relaxing into the cushions. You don’t answer, simply waiting for his next words with baited breath. “Tell me what you’re wearing,” Joel says, his breathing already ramping up into the receiver.

“Okay, corny ass,” you tease, and he scoffs.

“We don’t have to do this y’know, if you’re gonna be too busy bustin’ my balls,” Joel replies.

“N-n-no, sorry, sorry,” you say, trying to contain your laughter. How did it suddenly get to the point where you feel silly and almost self conscious doing any of this type of stuff with Joel?

“Now, tell me what you’ve got on, so I can picture ya,” Joel says, trying again.

“Okay. It’s those purple silky PJ shorts, you know the ones… and a little white t shirt with flowers on it.”

“How little we talkin’?” Joel asks, his curiosity piqued. He knows exactly which shorts you’re describing, he’s seen them many times and absolutely dies to see the way they hug your sweet, perfect ass. But the shirt is a mystery to him, never having seen that one before.

“Very. Think you’d like it, like everything you can see through it.”

Joel’s groan fills your ear through the phone and your breath bitches as you feel the space between your thighs begin a full ache at hearing the sound from him.

“Sounds so sexy, baby, can picture it now.”

“W-what about you? I want to picture you too.”

“I’m sitting on the couch, uh, got no shirt on and just my house shorts,” he says, and you smirk a little, knowing which bottoms he’s referring to. You would tease him often about how well you could see the outline of his dick in them, but you’d never minded the view one bit.

“Hot,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows even though Joel can’t see them.

“Wish I could take all of it off of ya,” Joel says.

“Trying to get me naked, Miller?”

“I sure as hell would be, if I was there.”

You smile, clutching the phone tightly and licking your lips in anticipation. You don’t feel completely confident about any of this, but you’re following your stupid, fucked up gut right now and this is the road it’s leading you down.

“So… your dream,” you remind him.

“Uh, alright. I mean, it was real nice. Came up to me and sat on my lap, kissin’ my neck. Felt so good like you always do, baby. Fuck, when you started grinding on me…” Joel trails off, lost between the real life memories and his recent dream.

“Mhm, always feels so good,” you murmur out, already getting quickly absorbed in his words. “Love doing that.” You let a little smile onto your face as you think of it.

“Then… well, we…”

“Joel, when have you ever been shy about this stuff?” you interrupt his stuttering.

“Dunno, since I’m not sure where things stand, I guess. Just don’t want to go too far.” He slides a hand across his chin through his beard nervously.

“It’s okay, I want to hear it…. wanna hear you say what you did to me,” you tell him.

Joel seems to get a sudden resolve, and you can practically hear it hardening over the phone as he decides to go as fully in on this as you seem to want him to.

“‘Alright then… I fuckin’ tore your little dress off of you, had you flipped onto the couch and fucked you so hard, baby, just like I know you like. Fuckin’ that little pussy until you were cryin’ out f‘me.”

You let out a small gasp at his words, practically being able to feel the sensation he’s talking about, his cock so deep inside of you at an angle like that. “Fuck…” you breathe out quietly, feeling your thighs clamping together.

“You came so loud for me in the dream, missed hearin’ that sound. Missed everythin’ about ya,” Joel muses. “Wish I could show you right now.”

“You wish you were here with me?” you ask.

“‘Course I do,” Joel says plainly, like he’s wished for it every single moment of every day since you two have been apart.

“W-what would you do to me first? I wanna pretend you’re here,” you ask hesitantly.

“What to do with such a beautiful girl…” Joel says with a little sly chuckle. “First I’d wanna give your perfect tits some attention, baby. Can you do that for me? Play with your tits for me?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly as you cup one of your breasts through your shirt, thumbing at your already hardened nipple through the fabric. A quiet sound escapes you and you arch your hips a little into the sensation.

“Good, I can hear ya enjoying that, sounds so good, sweetheart.”

“Touch yourself too, Joel,” you say hastily, your breathing already starting to get more erratic with want.

“I will, don’t you worry. Right now’s about you,” he says, trying to hold back some of the eagerness in his voice. This is all like a dream right now, the way you’re responding to him and willing to do this.

You continue touching your chest, squirming with delight and desire and waiting for what Joel has in store for you next, whining out impatiently.

“You gettin’ wet right now, hm? Why don’t you just check for me, lemme know what you feel,” Joel says.

You slide your hand into your shorts, gasping slightly at the touch in your oversensitive, aroused state. When your fingers swipe through your slit to your entrance, you’re practically dripping out already, the anticipation all day from Joel’s texts having done you in completely.

“Fuck, I’m so wet, Joel, I need… I need…” you gasp out as your fingers rub against your needy clit.

“Tell me, c’mon, angel, you can tell me,” Joel coos, urging you on.

“Need your cock,” you whimper, picturing the girthy length of him you’d gotten to shatter your world so many times.

“I know, I know,” Joel says soothingly. He wishes he could run his hand over your hair right now, smooth it down and make you feel better in so many ways. “Gonna have to pretend for now. Go on and use your fingers on yourself.”

“O-okay,” you breathe out, starting to move your fingers, rubbing them slowly in circles around your clit. You exhale with a little moan, thinking about how long needed this has been for you. The times you’ve felt up for touching yourself recently it often left you feeling a little sad after, hating yourself for how much you missed Joel’s touch. But this… this was already miles better.

“Feels so good, Joel, yeah,” you say quietly, losing yourself in the pleasure.

“Yeah? Bet it does, baby. Put your fingers inside, lemme know how that is. Wanna hear everything.”

“Oh,” you moan out as you plunge two of your fingers inside, pumping them a few times to get them as deep as they’ll go before retreating them and repeating it over and over. “Joel…”

“I’m right here, honey, keep on goin, doin’ so good,” Joel praises. “You got those fingers in there just the way you like ‘em?”

“I- I do, God, Joel, I miss your fucking fingers, I c-can’t do what they do.”

“I know, baby. My big fingers fill you up so good don’t they?”

“Mhmmm,” you moan out, continuing to fuck yourself a little faster with your fingers. “Can I touch my clit now, too? Tell me,” you say airily, your pleasure steadily building from touching that spongy spot deep inside of you.

“Do it, rub that little clit, probably aching so bad f’me right now.” Joel lets out a pained groan of his own when you start to moan louder.

“F-fuck, can’t wait any longer, gotta touch myself too,” he adds, to which you give an encouraging little whimper for him. He pulls his cock out from his shorts where it’s been throbbing, aching, and dripping for you. He gathers the bit of precum leaking out of his head and rubs it along his shaft, letting out a small hiss. Hearing the sounds you’re making, even over the phone, has him practically going feral with need, and he can’t wait another second to start finding some relief.

“Please. Wanna come together, Joel.”

“Okay, we’ll make it happen. Keep touchin’ that pretty pussy for me, don’t stop,” Joel says urgently, and as he lets out a small whimper, you can only assume means he’s starting stroking himself with the same urgent energy.

“I’m s-so close already, thinking of you,” you say, fingers moving faster as you keep your phone balanced on your shoulder while you bring your other hand down to rub your clit rapidly, your climax building up quickly in your core, swirling warm and tingly deep inside of you.

“Me too, so fuckin’ close, could make me come in a second flat with those pretty little noises you make,” Joel says huskily, and you think you can hear the sloppy sounds of flesh slapping on flesh from his end of the phone. It makes things even hotter for you, only intensifies your pleasure that he’s so undone for you right now.

“Fuck, I- I’m coming Joel,” you manage to stutter out before your clench around your fingers, your cunt pulling them in tight where they’re brushing against your g-spot still as your other hand rapidly and desperately rubs your clit through the waves of your climax. This release feels so damn needed right now, it feels like it’s going on for ages in the best way, spark after spark skittering across your skin as your entire body arches up into your hands. You’re moaning loudly, barely hearing Joel’s nearly pained sounding grunts on the other end.

“I’m comin’ too, baby, yes, f-fuck,” Joel groans out while you’re in the midst of crying out, and he comes hard into his hand, so much better than the high he’d had last night. Knowing you were right there on the other end, getting off on your memories of being with him was fucking Joel up hard. He slumps back on the couch, breathing heavily as you feel yourself start to come back down to reality.

“Mmm,” you murmur quietly into the phone as your entire body relaxes onto your bed. “Needed that,” you say dazedly, half forgetting that what just happened was with Joel, someone you weren’t even certain you should be doing this with.

“You did so perfect, honey, such a good girl,” Joel says lazily before you fall into silence, the both of you just breathing into the receiver for a few moments. You’re starting to feel a crushing guilt weigh on your chest now that you’re fully coming back down from the high that has been Joel, and you wince a little.

“Shit, Joel… was this stupid of us?” you ask him suddenly into the silence.

“Probably, honestly,” he says with a chuckle, not seeming to realize the mini crisis you’re starting to have on the other end. “But if you feel okay, I feel okay.”

“I dunno what I feel, now. I- I - shit…” Your thoughts are swirling through your head, full of both regret and joy, the two living together and battling it out for which one will lead your next decision.

“Take your time, s’okay. That was a lot. Made me feel a little unsure of myself, too,” Joel replies, clearly having sobered up at your tone.

“It did? You never feel that way… doing this stuff,”

“Different this time cause… well, I know I didn’t deserve it,” Joel says sullenly, and your eyebrows pinch together tighter as you consider his words. Joel isn’t one for self deprecating talk, typically, especially when it comes to intimacy. You’re feeling a little pull to comfort him, unsure if like he said, he deserves it. Shit, you’re a mess.

“N-no, it’s not that, I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t ready, but now I…” you stutter out, losing your words.

“Not so sure now, right?” Joel asks sympathetically, and you sigh, long and drawn out.

“I just give in too easily to you, Joel. You hurt me so badly, and here I am, calling you like this, letting you call me baby and all that shit, fucking myself to your voice, when you didn’t talk to me… like none of it even mattered to you! I shouldn’t have done this, I shouldn’t have…” you shake your head, swiping a hand across your face and through your hair in frustration. Apparently tonight the regret is winning, you think irritatedly.

“What do you need from me? Y’know I’m never gonna say I regret doin’ this tonight. But I know I have more makin’ up to do to you than one phone call, that’s for damn sure. Regret every minute I spent bein’ a stubborn asshole thinkin’ I was doin’ right by you if I just ignored it, let you move on.” Joel lets out a breath and clutches the phone against his ear, desperate to be closer to you. “J-just tell me how I can make it okay for you, honey. Y’know I’ll do anythin’… anythin’ at all if it means you’re okay. Don’t care what it means for me, just can’t stand hearin’ you hurtin’ anymore because of me.” Joel’s voice cracks throughout his speech, desperate words flying out of his mouth to try to comfort you. He’s always seemed like a problem solver to you, the one who immediately needs to get to work, to solve things right away, but you both know this isn’t one of those cases.

Your breathing steadies a little, finding you’re calming down at his words. “Maybe let’s slow it down a little. This kind of freaked me out,” you say, “I can see you’re trying really hard Joel, I do see it, but is it for real, you know? Or is it just some way to ease your conscience?”

“My conscience’ll be wrecked no matter what, darlin’, so honestly that’s out of the question. Wrecked it for good the minute I walked out your door. All I want now is to do right by ya, whatever that means. Show I’m more than that one stupid fuckin’ night. I can do slow, if that’s what you need,” Joel says, and while you do believe it, your relationship never did anything remotely slow, you think nearly with a laugh.

“You’re more than that night, Joel, I’ve always known that,” you say, taking a pause for the words to sink in “But slow, yeah, slow sounds good for right now.”

A few weeks later, you and Joel have reverted back to your texting relationship, with a few phone calls sprinkled in, and you’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore at this point. You’ve never felt more confused or conflicted about anything in your life. There’s a part of you that wonders if giving in and telling Joel you want to try things again would be sacrificing whatever self respect you have left. But he’s admitted more than anyone that it was a huge mistake, and has shown he regrets it time and time again. He’s been consistent, not pushing you right now to go further than you want, to give more than you can. It’s all very unlike Joel, who loved to be in control of your relationship before, of the way you two behaved together. From the start, he was always the one guiding you, teaching you about so many new, wonderful things.

It had to be killing him, that he didn’t have that right now. That everything was on your terms. But he stayed patient and kind, responding to your messages always with the same energy, always open to going only as far as you wanted to take things on the phone together.

He was trying so damn hard, and that made it so damn hard for you to resist what you knew was inevitably coming.

You’re musing on all of this as you drive to your parents’ house one evening to have dinner with them. You haven’t spent nearly as much time with them as you normally would, but they’ve been understanding given everything you have going on. It doesn’t help that their next door neighbor was someone you’d tried to avoid seeing for a while, and even now that things are moving in a good direction, you don’t know if you can handle unexpected run-ins with him just yet. You need your decision to be final the next time you see Joel in person.

Your parents have been kept as up to date on things as you’ve been comfortable sharing, and have been nice enough to come your way most of the time, or meet you out for dinner somewhere so you could actively avoid Joel. You knew they had a lot to say about it but they were holding their tongues for the most part. They had mostly expressed that while they didn’t love how hurt you’d been, they knew you were smart enough to make decisions on your relationship with Joel going forward. It was nice to hear they trusted your intuition, when you weren’t even sure you trusted it yourself right now.

When you’re on your way to your car after visiting with your parents for a few hours, you steal a quick glance at Joel’s house, feeling the temptation to go knock on his door creep up. He doesn’t even know you’re so nearby, and you’d hoped he didn’t happen to notice your car parked outside. You realize how pathetic it is, how much you’re avoiding Joel right now, but you know deep inside yourself that the only reason you are is because you know the minute he’s in your eyesight, you’re going to lose all control. All your logical thoughts and wishes to build things slowly will go out the window, and you’ll end up back in his bed, wondering if it was the right choice.

You hear someone call out your name as you’re walking to your car, lost in these thoughts, and you whirl around to see Tommy walking to his own truck, parked on the street outside of Joel’s house.

“Oh, hey, Tommy. It’s been a while,” you say genially. He opens his arms wide for a hug, and you find you don’t mind it at all, settling in between his arms for a quick, tight squeeze.

“Sure has, how you been?” Tommy asks you, with a slightly sad, knowing look in his eyes. You swallow hard, unsure of where to begin on that answer, but you find yourself wanting to answer simply.

“Honestly… I’m alright. Well, just okay,” you admit to him.

Tommy nods understandingly, but before he can comment on the status of things between you and Joel, you butt in again.

“Hey, how’s… Maria, right? Are you two still seeing each other?” You’d remembered hearing about a few dates Tommy had gone on while you and Joel were still together, and the look on his face had told you just how smitted he was with the women. He lets out a little chuckle and his smile grows almost automatically at your question.”

“Yes ma’am, she’s good as ever. Thanks for rememberin’.” He shoots you a grateful look and you smile back.

“Listen -” he cuts in before you can switch topics again. Your face falls, his tone telling you this isn’t about to be pleasant to hear.

“I know this ain’t your responsibility, necessarily. But it’s Joel’s birthday on Friday. We’re all takin’ him out after work, the usual spot, Murray’s, you know the one. I think it’d mean a lot if you came.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your breathing go a little unsteady. “I- I - don’t know about that. I haven’t seen him in…” You crinkle your brown, trying to think of how long ago that had been when Joel was sitting in your living room, pouring his heart out to you. It feels like a lifetime ago, now.

“Not one for beggin’, usually, but please think about it. I shouldn’t even say, but sweetheart, he’s miserable right now. You ain’t seen him the way I have. He’s practically sick over this, pouring over everything he says to ya, every memory, everything he could’ve changed. Can tell he’s in his head and he’s a fuckin’ mess.” Tommy’s eyes peer off past you in the distance while he shakes his head. “He told me some, not everything, and ya should be mad at my prick of a brother, but I know he’s tryin’.”

You let out an exasperated chuckle. “He is trying, I know. I see it, Tommy. Thank you for telling me all of that, it’s hard to see what he’s going through, exactly, I guess. Only showing me what he can over text, you know?”

“I know, he’s stubborn like that. Doesn’t want you to feel any pressure, he’s said that much. So unlike him,” Tommy muses with a little smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll think about Friday,” you tell him, deciding you owe it to both of them to at least consider the possibility of showing up for Joel’s birthday.

Tommy lights up a little, a small smile curling his lips upwards. “Thank you, sweetie. Just even considerin’ it, big step in my book. Appreciate you hearin’ me out.”

“Of course, anything for my favorite Miller brother,” you tease, and Tommy gives you a little howl of laughter, his cheeks reddening.

“Never lettin’ that one get back to Joel if I know what’s good for me,” he replies, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ll let ya go, but see ya Friday… maybe?”

“See you, Tommy,” you say before turning and making your way back to your car. You sit with your lips twisted to the side, thinking over what Tommy had said for a few minutes before starting your car.

You had a few days to think on your decision, and truthfully, you had already gotten Joel a birthday gift. A few weeks ago, you’d seen the perfect thing for him and couldn’t resist buying it, and the fact that his birthday was coming just happened to be great timing. You didn’t have a plan on when you’d give it to him, but Tommy’s offer had given you a reason and a little push to maybe finally take that leap. You knew it would be important for Joel that you show up that night.

When Friday night rolls around, you’re a nervous wreck. You’ve had several days to think, and you’re still landing somewhere on the unsure side of things, and you start to think that maybe you never would be sure when it came to seeing Joel after so long apart. As if on autopilot, you grab your keys and get in your car, flying down the highway before you can even second guess yourself and turn around.

Just keep driving, you assure yourself over and over. You can always decide along the way how you want to go about it, picture the hundreds of different ways this could go tonight, the thought of what you might say to Joel when you finally look him in the eyes.

You pull into the parking lot of Murray’s, the bar that Joel and his crew frequent after work, and find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t make yourself get out of the car. You watch the now darkening sky change past the bar, shrouding the exterior as the glow of the lights from inside spill out. You can’t see much through the bar’s windows, but you know he’s in there, hopefully having a great time. You worry at your lip with the opposite thought coming to mind - that Joel is sitting there waiting for you the entire night, hoping you’ll walk through the door. The thought nearly feels conceited, too self assured, so you push it away, willing that he’s having a nice time with his brother and friends. You just don’t think you can be a part of it.

You can’t just walk into a room full of people that know him, maybe even know who you are too, and try to settle things between you and Joel. It just doesn’t feel fair to either of you to make such an uncomfortable situation when he’s just trying to celebrate his birthday. You nod quickly to yourself as you make your decision, pulling the car out of the parking lot, but instead of making the turn to head back home, you go the opposite way, towards Joel’s house, once again doing it before you can think too hard about the decision.

You step out into the cooler, late September air once you park at Joel’s place, settling yourself on one of the wicker chairs Joel has on his front porch. You might be batshit crazy, waiting for him in the dark like this, but you don’t care anymore. You’re consumed by the thought of Joel coming home, finding you here waiting for him, kissing you until your lips are puffy and raw and in between your legs is aching for him. You can’t deny it any longer - you were meant to be with this man, and you’re ready, more than ready to start putting the past behind you. To try again. Even with the possibility of hurt looming again, you’ll risk it for him. You can only hope he still feels the same way.

The night stretches on, and you’re starting to wonder if this idea really is stupid, when headlights come down the street and a car stops in front of Joel’s house. Through the shadows cast by the streetlamps, you see Joel’s broad form exiting the car, and hear a faint goodbye from him as he shuts the door. You can’t gauge his mood from just his outline or the way he’s walking, and he doesn’t even seem to be that drunk if his steady gait is any indication.

You swallow hard, a nervous pit growing in your stomach as he walks up the driveway and onto the path that leads to his porch. His keys jangle while he searches for the right one for the front door, and you panic that he hasn’t noticed you sitting here yet. You shift a little in your seat, gearing up to speak to him, which gets his attention. He jerks his head in your direction, but freezes when he sees as much of you as he can through the dark, and you know he recognizes that it’s you from the look in his dark eyes.

You clear your throat, putting on your best smile for him.

“Hey stranger…” you say quietly. “Happy birthday.”

taglist: @paleidiot @mumma-moonchild @soph55 @chicville03 @joelsversion @feliciab1990 @fellinfromthetop @gossipgirl-03 @sarap-77 @blueseastorm @akah565 @pattwtf @scarlettthefierce

sorry if ur tag doesn't work idk why tumblr is like thisssss

#fic: closer #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

You saved me

masterlist

summary: when you are taken, your mothers do anything in their power to get you back, even if it means hurting you in the process.

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Maria x daughter reader

warnings: death and injury

genre: angst

words: 1455

a/n: this is trash and I apologize. I had no idea where I was going with this but I just really wanted to post a blackhill x daughter story

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has been three days since you’ve seen your mothers. Three days since you’ve slept in your own, warm, comfortable bed. The room you were locked in really was nothing in comparison to the comfort your mother’s had offered you over the years.

Three days ago, you woke up like any other morning. Your mom, Maria, had already gone off to work, having mission reports and other important SHIELD business due by the end of the week. Your mama, Natasha, however, was at home, waiting to welcome you with a nice breakfast when you woke up. When you did wake up, your mama was kissing your cheek, saying she was just called into work.

You stretched a little before sitting up, giving your mama a hug before she left. Slowly, you got out of bed, putting on some sweatpants and your mom’s oversized t-shirt before making your way to the kitchen. Once you opened the fridge, there was a plate filled with your favorite breakfast you knew Natasha had prepared. Grabbing the plate and settling on the couch, you watched some tv before your show was interrupted.

The tv had gone out, same with the lights and the digital clock. At first you were alarmed, but soon you settled on the idea that it was just a power failure. Someone must be messing with their electricity, you thought. It was unusual for the entire apartment block to lose their electricity, especially since your mothers had made sure everything would be up and running if something fails. They said it was for maximum security, which made you think. If the electricity had gone out, would the extra security on the door have gone out too?

You got up from the couch, walking to the door to check it. However, when you got to the front door, it was opened slightly. There was no possibility that Natasha had left the door open, so there must be someone in the apartment. Almost immediately you reached for your phone, wanting to call one of your mothers.

Before you could even unlock the phone however, you felt a pinch in your neck, and you lost consciousness. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation. Locked in a tiny, unsanitary room. There was a chain attached to the wall that was attached to a cuff on your ankle, ensuring you wouldn’t be running away anytime soon.

You wondered how many days it had been already, not having much sense of time in the dark room as there were no windows. You wondered how long it had taken for your mothers to notice you were gone, whether they finished their work day and were expecting to come home to you being asleep on the couch. You wondered if they were worried.

There was a man that would occasionally come into the room. He would check your temperature, take some blood and sometimes inject you with something. The injections left your arm a little sore, but in general they weren’t hurting you.

After the first time he came in, you fought against him, not wanting him to come any closer with his needle than he already was. After a guard was brought in however, you realized your mistake after the few hits he had delivered to you. Your upper lip was cut, and you had a cut on your temple. The blood that had trickled down had already dried, but the cut was still sensitive.

You heard some commotion outside the room, and wondered if it was the man that came back to take more of your blood. It wasn’t, and instead the cell door was opened by another man. He looked way taller and stronger, and looked nothing like the doctor that came in these past few days.

Before you got to question him though, you were pulled from your sitting position, the man standing behind you and looping his arm around your neck, pulling you against his chest.

You struggled to breath a little, and wondered what was going on when you saw a familiar redhead stand in the door opening, a gun being brought up to your temple.

“If you try anything, she dies,” the man said, loading the gun to prove he meant his statement. Your mama’s grip on her gun didn’t waver. Instead she kept it pointed right at him, knowing she could kill him if she had too.

“You don’t want to play this game,” she told him, loading her gun as well. The man pressed the gun against your temple a little harder. “Leave this building and she lives.” “I can’t do that,” your mama told him, taking a step closer. You could hear the bullet next to your head fall into the chamber, knowing he was going to shoot. Before you could feel his bullet pierce your head however, you heard another gunshot.

You opened your eyes when you heard a body drop, turning around in shock to see the man on the ground. You turned to your mama, who rushed to your side with a worried look on the face. It’s then you released the pain you felt in your shoulder.

Your mama had shot the man fatally, through you. He had stood behind you in a way that ensured she couldn’t shoot him, so she shot him through your shoulder.

You grasped your shoulder, grimacing as you felt the blood soak your hand. “Nice shot,” you told your mama, who had reached her hand out to cover yours, helping you keep pressure on the wound. She smiled at you and pulled you into a hug, sighing deeply.

After a few seconds she pulled back, cupping your face in her hands. “We have to go,” she told you, grabbing her gun and standing in front of you. “Mom,” you warned, signaling towards your ankle. Your mama grabbed the keys from the man’s corpse, and made quick work releasing your ankle.

She held her gun up high and exited the room, making sure you were following close behind. Soon enough you were standing outside, the Quinjet just a few feet in front of you. You followed your mother as she guided you to it, your mom already on board. The moment she saw you she jumped up from her seat and engulfed you in a hug. “You’re hurt,” Maria said as she inspected your wounds. “I’m okay,” you reassured her.

Maria helped you sit down as Natasha went to grab some supplies for your arm. When you sat down Maria sat on your right, pulling you into her and holding you close. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed your mothers warm hug. Her smell and her comfort you missed so much.

Natasha sat down on your left, carefully pulling the shirt down to get access to your wound. You were still wearing Maria’s oversized shirt, making it easy for Natasha to pull it down and give attention to your wound. Not a word was said, but you knew you were safe in your mothers arms.

You arrived back at your apartment about two days ago, and even though your mother had Tony up the security on your home, Maria nor Natasha would leave your side.

While you were enjoying the attention and nurturing they gave you you also felt kind of suffocated. You understood their behavior though, not expecting it to go away anytime soon either. You were currently laying on the couch, your head resting on Maria’s lap and your legs resting on Natasha’s.

“We love you, you know that,” Natasha suddenly said, breaking the silence. You looked at her a little confused. “Of course I know that. I love you too,” you told her. She looked at you with regret in her face. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said, suddenly getting tearful.

You turned to her completely, feeling Maria’s hand on your back as she helped you sit up. She scooted closer to your mama, crawling up her side and laying your head on her shoulder. “You didn’t hurt me mama, you saved me. Please don’t feel guilty,” you told her as you closed your eyes and held her tight.

You felt Maria rub your leg in a comfortable motion. She didn’t want to interfere in the moment you were having with your mama, but she did want to let you know she was there for you.

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha said, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “Please don’t be sorry mama. You saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for. My shoulder will heal,” you told her, and you felt Natasha nod her head. “I love you,” she told you. “I love you too,” you replied.

#black widow #blackhill #blackhill x daughter #blackhill x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #mcu #marvel #natasha x reader #maria x reader #maria x daughter #natasha x daughter #avengers #maria hill

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walli3darl1ng · 1 year

Note

How would the welcome home crew react once they meet a nezuko like reader. Like they are having a late night walk and they stumble upon reader walking around with a box on her back. And by morning they find reader's box on top of a hill but no sign of reader, but then reader opens the box from inside revealing a smol reader inside🥺

Please make it as gender neutral as possible we can't make all the genders feel left out(including transgenders, non-binary, bigender etc.)

Stop! I love Nezuko 🥹

But honestly this is adorable I can’t! Here have a cookie for requesting 🍪

I hope I did a good job! I wrote this in the blazing sun waiting on my ride 🫠

When the weather allows it, the neighborhood would have a night walk in the woods. It’s so beautiful at night when you can see the starts and watch the fireflies flicker around. It’s so peaceful.

“Ow! Barnaby!”

“Oh, sorry, Sally!”

Well almost peaceful. This clear, full moon night the neighborhood thought it’s a wonderful night for a walk and while some talk to their friends others play on the sidewalk heading in the woods. Barnaby just so happen to see something and stop mid-hop on the hop scotch and Sally bumped into him.

Sally peaks around him to see what had him so invested for him to stop the train with her, Julie and Wally walking slowly behind to see you sitting on a medium size box looking up at the night sky.

Julie and Sally thought you’re absolutely stunning. The way the moonlight cast upon you making your eyes shine, the way your hair flows softly with the wind. Even with the bamboo in your mouth you look like you came out of a painting.

“Heya! Are you lost?” Barnaby calls out as he and the two girls follow, Wally quietly trailing behind.

You turn around and watch them carefully before shaking your head at his question.

Barnaby sees that you’re choosing to not speak so he tries to ask questions that you can answer him. “Do you know where you are?”

You shake your head then pointed to the box and the ground.

“This is harder then I thought..” Barnaby chuckles.

“I think they’re saying that they’re staying here for the time being? Right?” Julie asks resting her finger on her chin in thought.

You nod your head and clap your hands as a praise. This made her smile grow and her arms flapping about as she runs over. “You’re so cute!”

“How long have you’ve been staying here?” Wally holds Julie from tackling you by the collar of her dress. “I hope not long.”

You hum and then point at the moon and hold up two fingers, indicating you’ve seen the moon twice.

“Two nights?! Why haven’t you come to the neighborhood.” Sally gasps, she can only imagine how tired and hungry you must be right now. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“We are a long way from the neighborhood, Sally. They probably didn’t know the way.” Wally reassures the star with a smile.

“Wally! Barnaby!”

“Sally! Julie! C’mon time to head home!”

“That’s Frank and Poppy.” Julie answers looking at the direction of the voices. “We can’t let them find them!”

“Why not?”

“I think because they know Barnaby or Julie will hog them.” Wally answers Sally and laughs when he sees Barnaby whistling and Julie pouting at his accusation. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Guys! Let’s go! It’s late!”

“Wally don’t make me get you out that tree again!”

“It was one time, I learned my lesson.” Wally mumbles and takes Sally to head over to the overprotective duo. “C’mon then, we can come back tomorrow morning.”

You watch this all unfold with a curious glint. Your new friend are funny, but why can’t they stay with you? Nonetheless you let them leave, waving back.

Morning soon came and Wally, Barnaby, Sally and Julie wake everyone up and take them up the hill where they found their new interesting and adorable friend. Once there they were dissatisfied when they only found the box you were sitting on last night but not you. Did you leave? Did something happen? Are you hurt?

“Well, where are they?” Frank asks looking around to find you.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Poppy questions with worry.

“No they should be here, they couldn’t just run off.” Sally walks around the box and tilts her head when she hears soft snore inside the box. Then she moves to the front and knocks on the door.

“Sal, whatcha doing?”

“Maybe they’re inside, I hear something.” Everyone gathers around and sally opens the door and to say it was a cuteness overload is an understatement!

You’re small, maybe the size of a small child, curled up and sleeping, soft snores leaving you and holding a plush.

“My doll that went missing a few days ago!” Julie points out.

“Gosh, they’re so adorable!”

“Just look at their small hands!”

“Can i squeeze them?”

“Me first!”

The loud shouting wakes you up with a yawn, in the process making your bamboo mouth piece fall and reveal your small but noticeable fangs. You rubs your eyes and look up to see the whole crew looking down at you with heart eyes.

Let’s say you’re their precious little emotional support human.

#welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #welcome home poppy #welcome home howdy #welcome home sally #welcome home eddie #welcome home fanfic #welcome home julie

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ponyosmom35 · 6 months

Text

Fight

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: simon finds out that Makarov was back, and he had information on them all, putting all of their loved ones in danger. He had to go back, despite the big wedding in a few months. Now he had to break it to his fiance.

warnings: cursing, angst, fighting, yelling, crying

Takes place hours before ' Nightmares'

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/724577494896885760/nightmares-simon-ghost-riley-x-reader-synopsis?source=share

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Simon asks as she walks into the house holding their coffees.

“Sure” she says as she walks into the kitchen where he stood. She sits at the barstool and hands him his coffee. “Whats going on, you sound upset”

“I have to leave” he admits, watching as her happiness disappears, being replaced with a hurt expression.

“What?” she asks

“There’s a mission, Price needs me to come back”

“Can’t you say no?” she asks, he scoffs and shakes his head.

“Not exactly”

“Laswell has no other options?”

“Because there is nobody else who can get this job done the way that we can” he responds, instantly getting frustrated at her reaction.

“But you said you didn’t have to go back until after the wedding”

“Can’t control the bad guys love” he says sarcastically

“Thats bullshit”

“Why is that?” he asks crossing his arms

“We’re getting married in 4 months, Simon! I need you here, I can’t do this all by myself”

“I wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t necessary”

“Jesus christ” she responds shaking her head

“What do you expect me to do about this huh? You think I should sit back and let the most dangerous man in the world roam free to do whatever he pleases? All of that blood would be on my hands, that ain’t somethin’ I’m okay with” he responds, raising his voice. He couldn’t understand why she was refusing to see the bigger picture.

“No I obviously don’t think you should sit back! I know how important you are, and I know that you’re the only ones who could take this guy down” she says, throwing her hands up in the air.

“So what’s the issue then eh?”

“The issue is that once again I have to watch you walk out of that door, and I fear that it’ll be the last time I ever see you. The fucking issue is that we can’t even have a few months of peace before you get pulled back in!”

“You knew what you were gettin’ into bein’ with me”

“You also told me that you wanted to retire, you wanted to be done with this life”

“You’re taking my words too literally love, I didn’t mean I was gonna retire right this second” he snaps

“Why say it then? Why get my hopes up, because I was under the impression that this was something you had really been considering, now you’re talking to me like I’m the fucking crazy one for wanting you to be here to plan our wedding!”

“You’re right I should’ve kept that to myself” he nods “didn’t think this would be a fight, there ain’t shit I can do about it. I go when I’m needed end of story”

“And what about me? What if you miss our wedding?”

“I can’t give you a timeline on how long it takes to bring down a terrorist, could be a week, could be months. It ain’t up to me”

“Jesus” she says running her hands through her hair angrily as tears fill her eyes and her lips tremble. “No don’t worry about me Simon, I’ll just be here at home, wondering if you’re alive or not. I’ll be here waiting for you to come home. What you’re not understanding is that I won’t be there on base to patch you up. I won’t see you everyday, it was hard enough back then, but now? You took me off the team! You had Laswell send me home! Now I’m stuck here while I‘m fucking terrified that I’ll lose you before you’re even fully mine!”

“You know why I did that! I had no choice!”

“But you did have a choice and you chose wrong!”

“I did it to protect you! you were a hostage! I almost lost you, I can’t risk that happening ever again. Do you have any how fucking scared I am to lose you? You are everything to me! I chose you always. Don’t tell me that I don’t fucking understand. I see it all perfectly clear! I don’t wanna hear anything else about something I have no control over!” he roars, his chest rising and falling as he stares at her in anger.

“I’m allowed to be upset Simon, thats not a crime” she says wiping her tears as she leaves the kitchen and runs up the steps, leaving her coffee untouched and cold.

Simon curses and runs his hand through his hair in anger. He knew he should’ve handled that better. He wasn’t even truly upset with her. What he would never tell her is the reason he’d accepted the job was due to the fact that the man they were going after, Vladimir Makarov had information. Simon refused the offer at first, for the same reason she’d been upset, their wedding. However Price showed him the intel they picked up. Makarov had names, he knew Simon and he knew her. He knew instantly what he would have to do, Price helped him with the plan. After he left for the mission, he would have to fake his death, in order to keep attention off of his lover. He would break her heart in order to save her. He knew that she’d never be safe as long as he was still ‘alive’. She’d be used against him and he would never risk that. Price expressed how delicate this mission was, they weren’t sure who to trust as there had been so much corruption. This will be for the better.

ghost master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

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porcelainseashore · 2 months

Text

The Lost Tapes (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

General Note: One-shots for my series Where We’ve Left Our Love. Encapsulated moments within the past and future lives of Leon x Reader in no particular order. Follows the Resident Evil Remake timeline.

Chapter Summary: It’s about time that you got over the loss of Leon for your own good. You’ve settled in Berlin, your dance career is on the rise and you’re looking forward to a nice dinner date, but something keeps pulling you back.

Content Warnings: Mild smut or suggestive themes, grief and mourning, suicidal thoughts, drinking, referenced drug use, and depending on how you see things, hurt/comfort or hurt no comfort.

Shoutout to RainyKennedy for suggesting the topic of Reader's grief for this one-shot!

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: All That Remains

“So, who’ve you been messaging with?” One of your co-dancers teased, as she suddenly appeared behind your back, tapping your shoulders playfully, startling you.

“Jeez!” You exclaimed, holding your mobile phone close to your chest in surprise. “Don't scare me like that!”

“Sorry,” she laughed, while shrugging indifferently. “But seriously though, who…?” She pressed on further, while circling to your front and plopping down onto a chair in front of you.

Blushing, you turned away from her prying gaze and shook your head.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it?” She squealed. “The one Silje introduced us to.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t particularly good at keeping a poker face when it came to such matters. Nonetheless, you felt a pang of guilt rising from your stomach and blooming in your chest. It had been ages since you’d been on a date. The first few times you tried, it ended disastrously, with you excusing yourself to leave before it was even over. Despite it being years after the Raccoon City incident, things were somehow still too raw and no one you had dated so far could hold a candle to him.

Leon. He was all you could think about in times like these. What would he say to this? What would he have wanted you to do? To go on, you supposed. Live your own life. Yet, nothing could shake off the unbearable feeling that what you were doing was like an immense betrayal.

Everything reminded you of him. A flash of dirty blonde tresses when you crossed the street, but when the figure turned around, it was foreign. A waft of his favorite cologne in a crowded market, but it belonged to someone else. Blue - the only color you could describe in a thousand words. Deep blue, lightning blue, everything washed in shades of blue. Like when you were on holiday and stood at the edge of the ocean, feeling the warm breeze against your skin and tasting the salt in the air. You remember getting lost in those cerulean eyes of his, reflecting the surface between sea and sky. But now, the colors of the world you inhabited just appeared muted to you.

You couldn’t even bear to listen to music both of you loved anymore. Little things set you off. Silly phrases he had once said, endearing terms of affection he had called you. You probably should’ve seen a therapist at this rate, but you just kept plodding along. Like you always did. You’d go through a period of intense grief, coming out of it safe and sound, floating in the lull of a wave, and waiting for the next cycle to start again like a rollercoaster.

During the bad times, you’d try to drown out the memories in hedonistic parties with your new lot of friends and a cocktail of drugs. You were afraid of being alone, sitting in the dark in your empty apartment, consumed by your thoughts. On the outside, you were able to keep up your façade. Your career was on the rise and Silje had helped you to settle in. However, inside, you were breaking bit by bit. It was exhausting to keep feeling things, but some part of you didn’t want to forget. You couldn’t.

Perhaps you were cursed. You wondered if it would always be like this. Being condemned to repeat the same course of events again and again, like Groundhog Day. Time heals all wounds, they said. You wanted to believe in that shabby scrap of reassurance. That was all you had to go on these days, so you latched onto it desperately, reciting it like a mantra in your head.

“Hello?” Your co-dancer called out with mild irritation. “Are you even listening?”

“Hm, what?” You replied apathetically, reluctant to drag yourself out of your ruminations and return to the conversation.

“Ugh, never mind!” She snapped, though she fell back to her spirited, carefree self once again. “When’s the date anyway?”

“Tonight.”

“You don’t sound so enthused,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow. Leaning forward, she whispered in your ear, “I heard he comes from old money.”

Your face twisted in disgust. “I couldn’t care less about that.”

She held her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just saying that he checks all the right boxes earlier, when you weren’t paying attention. This is just a bonus!”

“Some bonus indeed,” you scoffed.

Ignoring you, she continued, “I mean, he’s obviously quite the poet with those long, flowery messages he keeps sending you.” She motioned to your phone, as you rolled your eyes. “He’s also very handsome, polite, charming-”

“Alright, enough,” you interrupted, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. “You don’t have to keep convincing me.”

Grabbing your shoulders to catch your attention, she looked you dead in the eye with a knowing smile. “I’m just looking out for a friend here.” She rubbed the back of them supportively. “You said there was a guy back home you couldn’t let go of. But this is your life now - a new place, a new chapter. Don’t you think you deserve to move on?”

Did you? You weren’t sure how to answer that question.

“Maybe,” you mumbled, so quietly that you almost couldn’t hear yourself.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A lone, black satin dress hung in the corner of your wardrobe, which was as bare as your apartment. People might have mistaken you for a minimalist, but truth be told, you had been in a rush when you left your home country a few years ago, paired with a grubby rucksack which carried only the bare essentials and some memories you couldn’t let go of.

You never bothered to fill your flat up, preferring to live frugally in this respect instead. The few pieces of furniture you had were what you found in second-hand shops or from random strangers who had left their stuff on the streets ‘zu verschenken’ (to give away).

As you slipped the dress over your head, smoothening it out across your body, and applied the first touches of makeup to your face, you daydreamed about how you had even landed in this position in the first place. When Silje introduced her patron, Mikkel, to you and the rest of your co-dancers hanging around outside in the foyer after a show, he had gravitated towards you. Maybe because you were shy, or you were holding back, unlike the others, who had greeted him excitedly. Perhaps he found the sense of mysteriousness you gave off alluring.

You remember him being well-mannered and kind, not too pushy, and you talked at length about the performance piece, its symbolism, art in relation to politics and capitalism, and the like. He was engaging, and you couldn’t find any fault with him, except he just wasn’t the boy you had fallen in love with. However, you figured it was stupid to keep putting Leon on a pedestal, where other men that came after had to be judged according to such an impossible standard. So after a few drinks, you accepted Mikkel’s request and gave him your number willingly. It wasn’t long before he asked you out for dinner.

The phone on your table vibrated. You were almost done with getting ready. You smudged the rouge tint along the edges of your lips to create a softer look, before glancing at the screen of your mobile.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?’

You smiled and shook your head. He was trying to be a gentleman as usual.

‘I’m all good, thanks for the offer though.’

‘Alright, I can’t wait to see you.’

Tucking your phone into your evening purse, you draped a light shawl over your shoulders and eased your battered feet into a pair of heels. A dancer’s feet are always ugly, you remarked, laughing ruefully to yourself.

Then, you heard a tiny voice from the back of your mind pipe up, No, they’re not.

You could feel it again, that lingering pressure on the soles of your feet, as Leon’s hands worked through the knots skillfully each time you’d been so beat from rehearsals. You tipped your head back against the wall and relaxed, trying to stifle a moan.

Let it out, baby.

It was as if he were in the room with you. You shivered, running a hand over your mouth to your neck as you tried to get a hang of yourself. Shaking it off, you leaned against the cool, metallic door frame for a moment before shutting down the lights in your apartment and venturing out into the city night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Taking a huge gulp of the white wine that Mikkel had ordered to start with, you fidgeted in your seat awkwardly. Like a fish out of water, this world was unfamiliar to you. Of course, he had chosen one of the most expensive restaurants in town, detailed with pristine white tablecloths, a mind-numbing set of cutlery you had to figure out how to use, and a menu adorned with mostly French words you didn’t quite understand. People were dressed to the nines, the service was impeccable and there was even a live pianist for entertainment.

You gazed up at the grand, dazzling chandelier hanging in the middle of the room that blinded your vision. To be honest, you would have preferred a rustic, family-owned Italian restaurant. Something down-to-earth and homey, not lofty and pretentious where everyone was performing a part in this spectacle you were witnessing in front of you. Pretending to laugh at each other’s comments, clinking their glasses together, ordering wines which cost an eye-watering amount.

Leon wouldn’t have-, you stopped yourself. This wasn’t the time to bring the topic up again.

“Would you like some recommendations?” Mikkel asked, almost apologetically, as if he detected your discomfort.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, ducking your head behind the tall menu to avoid his eye contact.

Was he embarrassed by you? You were an outsider in every sense of the word. Your parents would have been pleased for you to get to know him. They would have considered him a real catch. But you weren’t them. And this wasn’t their life. You thumbed the end of the napkin resting in your lap nervously.

He stretched out his hand, placing it over yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh- What for?” You sputtered. “No, it’s fine. It’s beautiful here,” you tried to gush. “I mean, thank you for taking me to this place. Really.”

He gave you a side smile, appreciating your attempts at salvaging the situation, though he was well aware of the blunder on his part. “We could go somewhere else, if you want.”

The next thing you knew, you had been whisked off to a more modest restaurant nearby, where you instantly felt at ease. Mikkel mentioned it was no trouble at his expense, he just wanted you to enjoy yourself. It was all that mattered to him. You found him sweet and especially attractive, when he loosened up a little and the strands of his sleek black hair fell across his face.

Maybe this time you’d move on, you mused hopefully, ignoring the sinking feeling in your gut that told you otherwise.

Throughout the meal, your witty exchanges with Mikkel flowed. One drink led to another. You laughed at his jokes, rosy-cheeked and eyes glittering with amusement. The warm glow of the mood light cast shadows across the room, giving it a sultry vibe. Both of you ordered another round of drinks, and chatted merrily until it was closing time. It felt premature to end the night there and so, you allowed him to accompany you back to your place.

If you had an award for the most confusing point in time of your life so far, this would’ve taken the cake. As he kissed you against the door of your apartment, all at once you had the foreboding feeling of dread of what was to come, and yet pleasure, like you had been craving for someone’s touch for so long.

“Do you want to-”

“Mm hm.” You cut him off just like you disregarded the conflicting feelings and tepid apprehension bubbling to the surface. You weren’t going to risk giving yourself another chance to question your decision.

You wanted this. You deserved it.

Scrambling for your keys, you slotted them into the lock and stumbled through the entrance, as he shut the door behind him. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, while you made your way to the bed, falling backwards onto it, as he continued planting kisses all over your body. You shuddered, as the memories came flooding back-

The times Leon had allayed your self-doubt and comforted you with soft words and kisses…

His calloused hands, worn from police academy training, absentmindedly stroking your bare skin…

The searing heat of the sun against your face as he sucked and nibbled at the sensitive spot on the base of your neck…

Every cry and gasp you ever uttered as you felt him inside you…

“So beautiful…” Who was saying that now? The waters had been muddied and it felt like you were caught between time and space, unable to separate fiction from reality.

When you came to, you found tears streaming down your face as you grasped onto Mikkel’s shoulders in a tight embrace, stark naked, with him on top of you, groaning your name as he came in you. You turned away from him as he pulled out, lying on your side, trying to conceal your crying, along with the absolute disgust and shame you felt welling up within you.

“Are you ok?” He asked gently, trailing his index finger along the curve of your spine.

Your skin crawled, but you gritted your teeth in an effort to suppress the urge to rush to the bathroom to throw up, angry at yourself for what you had done. “Yes,” you lied. “It was amazing.”

And this time, he believed you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It took a while for you to doze off, but when you did, you were ushered into the throes of sleep.

The cyclical nature of your breath synchronized with the rise and fall of your chest, enveloping you in a blanket of peace and tranquility despite the earlier events. Vague moving images weaved through the fabric of your consciousness, out of focus and delayed, like a grainy film.

Eventually, it settled on a still figure in bed beside you. You squinted, wondering if this was another dream or if you were wide awake in bed with Mikkel again. The flicker of a set of pale blue eyes reflecting iridescently in the moonlight suggested otherwise.

“Leon…” you whispered.

He shifted closer to you, acknowledging your presence, even though he didn’t say a word.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, realizing that you lay before him completely stripped and exposed. You couldn’t hide anything from him in this state, and definitely not what had recently transpired.

“Do you hate me now?” You asked, even though you were afraid of the answer.

Brushing your cheek with the tips of his fingers, he replied without hesitation, “I could never hate you.”

“God, I fucked up,” you choked. “I just- I just miss you so much.”

Your body jerked uncontrollably as you buried your face in your hands, letting out heart-wrenching sobs. How could you? The words spun round on repeat like a broken record in your head.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and his chin resting above your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured you.

“Do you still think of me?”

“Always,” you admitted openly, as you clung to the back of his neck, inhaling sharply and savoring his unmistakable scent.

He pressed his lips upon the crown of your head, kissing you tenderly. “You can leave this behind, you know?”

“I don’t want to,” you insisted.

Even if all that remained was a figment of your imagination, or an apparition that haunted you, you were stubborn. Nothing could make you give this up. So much so that you blurted out the following statement determinedly into his chest, “Take me with you.”

His breathing stilled all of a sudden, as he understood the implication behind that sentence. You were tempted to join him, wherever he was.

Pulling you up to face him on eye level, he reproached you sternly, “Baby, no.”

He gripped your chin firmly to reiterate his point. “I mean it.”

“Nothing’s helping,” you responded listlessly, as if you were begging him to reconsider.

“Time,” he offered, peering at you sympathetically, the shape of his pupils widening as he combed through your hair soothingly.

Closing your eyes, you sighed, allowing yourself to melt in his touch, despite your disbelief. “That’s what everyone says.”

“Remember when we were at Huntington Beach?”

You blinked, gazing at him curiously. “How could I forget it?”

It was one of the most blissful days you had with Leon. A quick weekend getaway, before both you headed in separate directions to your respective colleges again. You could smell the crisp, briny sea so distinctly, as if it were only yesterday.

He flashed that wide, boyish smile you adored. “We had so much fun, didn’t we?”

You couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the memory. “We did.”

Caressing your cheek and then your lips, he promised, “That feeling… it’ll come back again. It just takes time.”

It just takes time. The very same words you had used to comfort him back in high school, telling him to let his eyes adjust to the pitch black darkness.

Although it seemed entirely out of reach for the moment, you knew that the world would open up to you at some point. You just had a ton of shit days lined up in front of you, like an endless maze, and you were growing tired of mustering the strength to confront them.

An unwanted thought crossed your mind. How long would he stay? You started to panic.

“Leon,” you pleaded. “Please don’t go.” Your eyes glistened, as fat droplets spilled down onto the sheets.

He bit his lip, and you saw that his face too, mirrored yours, streaked and wet with tears.

“I’ll be right here.” He cupped his hand over your heart, as you felt his phantom touch for the final time, before he was gone.

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you awoke, it was the brightest time of the day, with the noon light streaming into the bedroom through the gaps in your curtains. The bed was empty, but Mikkel had left you a note. In it, he apologized for leaving early as he had an appointment to attend to which he couldn’t back out of. As you had slept like an angel, he didn’t want to wake you.

Upon checking your phone, you saw another message from him.

‘Last night was special. I would love to take you out again. How about next Friday?’

You paused, re-reading the text over and over until the words started to jump and blur. Your thumb hovered over the buttons of your mobile, as you pondered your next steps. You exhaled deeply, and with a swift tap, you pressed delete.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

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igotanidea · 9 months

Text

Essay : professor!todd x student!reader part 1

A/N: this is a completely new verse, I just couldn;t stop myself, so if you ever get ideas for that one I'll take them in a heartbeat.

A/N 2 : I was wondering whether to finish it here of give you more spice, but decided to just whet your appetite for part 2 ;)

***

Do you know how they used to call her in high school?

The unsullied.

Like in a freaking “game of thrones”

All because while her friends were partying, getting drunk and scoring, she was far more focused on her education and school work. And damn, that girl was sharp. Her writing and literature skills and instincts were something people would admire if they weren’t shallow and judgmental.

Instead she got the teasing nickname and all her peers treated her like she didn’t exist.

And of course it hurt, not having girlfriends or anyone who would even try to understand why she would rather spend her time in the library in the company of Shakespeare or Emily Bronte or Charles Dickens instead of drinking and having accidental sex. It was painful to admit that she never had a boyfriend or that she lacked experience in so many social areas. But she just clenched her teeth and pushed through, telling herself that she didn’t have to have all the answers at the age of 17.

She worked hard for a couple years and that got her a scholarship and entry to the college of her own choice. And while her parents and family were pushing her to choose something big, like New York or other big city, much to their surprise and displeasure, she decided to stay in the state and attend Gotham University.

“Why?” her mother almost got a heart attack upon hearing the revelations, choking on the fancy cake served at the tea. (one more word about the girl – she came from the really fancy, new-money family, where she never fit, being way to feisty and fiery. She could never be described as a lady despite her mother’s best efforts).

“Just because” she shrugged

“watch your tone, girl.” Her father warned “never speak to your mother like this.”

“sorry, sir.” She smiled apologetically, but it was meant more like a sarcasm then a real word of remorse “ Gotham has one of the best university literature program. And since it’s something I want to pursue….”

“I think we should let her make her own choices, father. Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Thank god, for her older brother, Tom, who always had her back. He was the only person she was going to miss when leaving. But he was right. She knew what she was doing. And Gotham did have the best literature course. And that was because of one of the professors, Jason Todd.

At the young age of 26, being only a couple years older than her, he managed to finish his studies summa cum laude and having a few awards on his account decided to dedicate his life into teaching and shaping young minds. Y/N couldn’t wait to attend one of his classes.

Yeah, college was going to be life changing for her.

Only she didn’t know how much when she first stepped into the hall of residence.

***

Soon enough she found out that first years were not supposed to attend Todd’s classes. Apparently something about heavy and mature content on different levels. To put it simply, no one below 21 were allowed to engage in those discussions.

But Y/N was sly and determined enough to sneak into the evening lectures, making notes to herself and being an original thinker she got so much ideas and inspirations just by sitting in the corner of the classroom and listening. It went like that for half a year and she believed herself to be clever enough to not get notices, but apparently professor Todd was even better in the art of deception. And it all started when she lost her notebook while leaving and figured it out on the way to her room.

“Shit!” she hissed turning around immediately and looking for the lost item on the way. If it were to get into unfit hands, in the worst case – dean’s – and her secret would be uncovered , she would be expelled immediately due to not abiding the rules “Fuck!” she whispered-yelled again, having reached the classroom and still not finding it.

“don’t creep there, miss Y/l/N, come on in.” Professor Todd’s voice echoed through the empty hall and she shivered. How the hell did he know she was there? And more importantly, how the fuck did he know who she was?!

“I’m sorry to interrupt professor.” She started “I’m just …. I mean, I…..”

“Lost something?” he asked, his green eyes meeting hers and it was like a spark of electricity through her. God, was he handsome. Only now, she understood the rumours on the campus, something about girls attending his course just for him, not really for the books and stories. Shit! She didn’t really have much opportunities to watch Todd while sneaking out and watching her every step.

“Yeah, I …. I mean, I…..” she stuttered “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even be here, and what I’m writing there is just stupid and …..”

“The only thing stupid here is that no one under 21 can join my class.” Todd laughed sonorously “come here, miss Y/N, please, sit, I won’t give your secret away.”

“You won’t?” hypnotised by his voice and eyes she took a few steps forward and perched on the first desk, out of instincts waving her legs in the air in a child-like manner.

“No. Sure not. I read some of your notes, forgive me that” he apologised quickly seeing the terror on her face “and those are good. Like really good. I don’t think I have such an original thinker here in like …. ever, to be honest” he smiled brightly “how old are you again?”

“almost 20 now.” She sighed in frustration. Here she was, sitting in front of her idol, unable to get full advantage of his knowledge.

“such a shame. Would love to know your brain more.”

“Can I just have it back and be on my way? I won’t bother you anymore, I promise I don’t want any trouble." she reached for her notebook, but did it so clumsily that it made her lost her balance in the process and she started falling to the ground, when her weight overbalanced the desk. She would probably end up on the floor, if it wasn’t for Todd’s reflexes. His strong arms found a way around her waist holding her tight, her hands locking on his arms and all of a sudden feeling safe and not so eager to leave.

“You good there?” he asked as their gazes met.

“Yeah…. I…..” once again the spark flew between them. Maybe it was just her imagination but she saw something predatory and …. lustful(?) in his eyes. “I… I really should be going now, professor. It’s late and after curfew and ….. sorry.” She grabbed the book from his hands, fixed her shirt and bag and rushed out the door.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he called after her and the girl spun around to face him.

“You can keep coming to my classes. Like I said, it’s a stupid rule and your secret’s safe with me.’

“Um, yeah, sure, professor, thank you.” She mumbled and practically took off running to her room, having absolutely no idea what was happening to her .

***

She didn’t get much sleep that night, instead taking care of the urge and itching between her legs, imagining green orbs and silky voice calling her good girl and a one particular man touching her. Good thing she had a single room with pretty thick walls.

***

It became pretty clear that classes were not enough for either of them. All things considered they kept it professional for a long time, only meeting in public places, discussing some teacher-student stuff, not really making any of the stuff suspicious. Apart from some additional rumours, nothing new on the campus, they were extremely correct and hesitant to do anything stupid.

But.

Literature talks and exchanging beliefs and ideas quickly led to getting to know each other on way more personal level. She learnt about his family, his adopted father and brothers and he got the whole story of how she was treated in school and why she chose to specialise in literature.

They were getting close.

Arguably closer than teacher – student should, but the more time they spend together the less they cared.

Soon enough their meetings moved from the classrooms and campus to the outside places. And from the days to the nights, always being careful not to get caught. But the urge and the sexual tension between them was making them slip.

It was only a matter of time before someone would lose the war of nerves and needs.

***

Since the dean was tuned in to everything that was happening on the uni ground, after a couple of months Todd was called into his office and had to some heavy explanation of why he was doing nothing less but hanging out with a student that was still under the legal age. Barely, but sill.

And with the natural ease and smoothness the young professor talked and talked about y/n’s talent and insight and how she was wasting her potential while waiting to be admitted to his classes. He used some pretty convincing arguments about the fame and reputation the uni would get if she becomes the exception to the rule and get the permission to attend despite her age.

And all that seemed to convince the dean.

Y/N was allowed to attend Jason’s course.

And that meant more time spend together.

***

“I almost forgot. I got your essays graded.” He stated one Tuesday evening almost ending the lecture, holding a bunch of sheets of paper in his hands and waving it around “as usual, most of you should have read between the lines, but apart from that it’s better than before. I see some progress to some of you.” He started walking around, giving the papers to the students.

Was it her imagination again or did he really brushed over her shoulder while passing her? If it was a dream she didn’t want to wake up, feeling that familiar aching in her body. God! She was still at class, acting like a horny teenager! About the teacher! That was completely inappropriate!

“That would be all for today.” Jason stated “class dismissed.”

“But….” She objected. She didn’t get hers back.

“As for you miss Y/L/N….” he trailed, waiting till everyone left “We need to talk about your thesis. But we’re gonna need the library to prove the point. Meet me there in half an hour, all right? Take your coat with you, the night is going to be cold.”

“but…. But it’s like 8 p.m.” she frowned “I thought the library was closing at 7?”

“I got a special pass. Now go, Y/N.”

Something was telling her that this was not going to be about her writing. And she couldn't wait to discover the double meaning.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #professor!todd

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weemssapphic · 10 months

Note

THE LAST BRIENNE FIC WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!! Perfecto! Was wondering if you could do one where she actually breaks up with the reader for sad angsty insecure reasons and there’s a lot of heavy angst but maybe someone else tries to take advantage of the situation and woo reader and triggers brienne and they get back together againnnn

A/N: oh lord has it really been 2 months since I received this request? I ~deeply~ apologize, I hope you still see this and I hope you enjoy <3 Not sure how heavy the angst actually ended up getting but I hope it's alright regardless. Brienne requests always bring me an immense amount of joy ✨ and thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the last Brienne fic <3

What You Had, What You Lost

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

Words: ~4.6k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: angst, breakups, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort

It’s for the best really. That’s what Brienne tried to tell herself, at least. You’d be better off without her. After all, she could see the worry in your eyes before she would go off to battle. She could hear the fear in your voice when you’d told her to please come home. And as nice as it felt to come home to someone (to come home to you), Brienne was anything but selfish - you had a whole life ahead of you, and she refused be the reason you’d give it all up; she refused to be the reason you’d spend your days sitting at home, waiting for her to return; refused to be the reason you’d miss out on having a family, on bearing children; refused to be the reason people would sneer at you - for being with Brienne the Beauty.

And, maybe, Brienne was shielding herself from the inevitable heartbreak when you would finally figure all of this out yourself, when Brienne and the life she had found herself thrust into finally became too much for you. But, really, she was doing you a favor. It was for your own good, she told herself.

Her heart felt like lead and her stomach felt hollow when she came home from training that day. You had cooked something, and it smelled heavenly, and her heart sank just a bit further when you whirled around to greet her, grinning up at her the way you always did when she came home. She did her best to smile back at you, she really did - but when you frowned and asked what was the matter, she realized she’d been unsuccessful. “I’m just tired,” she said (she wasn’t ready to tell you yet, she wanted to commit your smile to memory first).

“It’s alright, my love,” you replied tenderly, reaching up to caress her cheek and smiling warmly, your eyes crinkling at the outer corners and your faint laugh lines deepening. It took every ounce of strength that Brienne possessed not to cry in that moment, to quirk her lips upwards into something resembling a smile. She was almost certain you could see right through her facade - you knew her better than anyone - but you must’ve chalked it up to her being tired (like she’d told you), because your eyes filled with understanding and kindness and you stroked her jaw lovingly with your thumb.

Brienne’s heart cracked a little more as you began to set the table, and even more when you shooed her away as she tried to help - “please, Bri, you’re tired, sit. I can handle this.” You believed her, you always did. It was one of the pillars of your relationship - Brienne was always honest with you, and you were always honest with Brienne. If Brienne told you she was tired, then you knew it to be true.

It was for your own good.

At dinner, you did most of the talking. Brienne simply listened, trying to commit the sound of your voice to memory, storing away every little chuckle, every time you would say her name or call her “love”. When you noticed she was barely eating, simply pushing the food around her plate, worry filled your eyes and you reached over the small table to squeeze her hand - the gentle brush of your skin on hers only working to deepen the pit in her stomach.

“Brienne, are you certain you’re alright?” Your voice was so soft and gentle that it made Brienne nauseous. She had to get this over with, before she broke down completely. It was for your own good. If she told herself this enough, she might believe it.

She took a deep breath, training her eyes on her plate. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

“Anything,” you replied earnestly, your tone still patient and kind, as if you didn’t suspect a single thing. Your thumb was tracing soothing circles over the back of her hand.

“I- we can no longer be… together.”

It was as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. The silence was deafening, a high-pitched ringing beginning to invade Brienne’s eardrums. Her gaze flitted to your face, watching the color slowly drain from it - she couldn’t stand it, she had to look away again. She felt you retract your hand from hers and found herself immediately yearning for the warmth of your touch again.

“I… I don’t understand.” Your voice was shaky now, and when Brienne chanced another glance at your face, she could see your brows furrowed in confusion, your eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed. Her heart dropped and she felt bile rising in her throat. Her first instinct was to wrap her strong arms around you and kiss away the crease between your brow - to litter your face with tiny pecks of her lips until your tears had made their retreat and laughter was bubbling out of your chest. But she couldn’t very well do that now - she was the one breaking up with you, and if she wasn’t your girlfriend anymore then, well, it wouldn’t be her place to kiss you or comfort you any longer.

So she put on her mask, the one she used when she needed to be strong, when she was training and commanding her men - it was the only way she’d be able to keep her voice even enough to say what she needed to say, the only way she’d be able to stay steadfast in her decision. It was for your own good, she reminded herself, swallowing thickly.

“This isn’t working for me any longer. I have to focus on my duties as Lord Commander, I cannot afford any distractions.” You see, Brienne knew you would try to argue if she told you the real reasons she was breaking up with you. She didn’t think you would accept those so easily. But her duties as Lord Commander were something she was sure you wouldn’t be able to argue against.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably long, hurt flitting across your face as your tears finally spilled over, leaving pale tracks down your cheeks. Brienne’s fingers twitched as she fought the reflex to wipe them away.

“Is that what I am to you?” you whispered, your voice watery and thick - Brienne had never heard you so upset before, and her heart ached knowing she was the cause of your pain. “A distraction?”

Brienne felt her lip twitch as all her organs seemingly clenched together in pain. Of course not! she wanted to scream. You’re the love of my fucking life and the reason my world keeps turning! I just cannot hold you back any longer!

“I should go,” she muttered instead, pushing her chair back as she stood and turning to leave.

“Brienne!” She heard your chair scrape across the floor, your voice rising in desperation. “We’re not done here! You can’t just leave.”

“I’ll have Podrick pick up my things tomorrow.” Brienne kept her voice level as she walked towards the door.

“Please, darling, I love you,” you sobbed, and Brienne paused for a moment with her hand on the doorknob. She could hear your footsteps coming closer, could see you out of the corner of her eye as you reached out for her - she opened the door and stepped through it, closing it firmly behind her.

When Brienne showed up at Podrick’s door that night, he didn’t ask any questions. He knew her well enough to know there was only one thing that could be causing her face to contort in pure anguish. He even pretended not to hear her sobs as she cried herself to sleep, and he didn’t comment on the bags under her eyes the next morning - for that, Brienne was grateful.

She realized, with a heavy heart as sleep evaded her that night, that she hadn’t even had the chance to kiss you one last time - she was already forgetting how it felt to have your lips on hers. That was the thought that sent her over the edge, tears flowing freely down her face and staining her pillow.

It was for your own good.

~~~

“I cannot afford any distractions.”

A distraction.

Brienne’s lip had twitched. That was the only tiny little sign you could cling to that Brienne may have been bluffing. That she may not have fully meant what she’d said.

But she’d left. She hadn’t even looked back.

“I will love you until all the stars fall from the sky,” she’d told you once. “Your love makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive.”

Was this before or after she’d decided you were simply a nuisance, getting in the way of her duties?

You cried yourself to sleep that night, of course you did - you didn’t even have the heart to clear off the dinner table. When a knock sounded on the door the following morning and you’d rushed out to answer it, your heart had clenched when you’d seen the two plates, the two goblets - proof that Brienne had been there just the evening before, that you’d shared a dinner after work as if nothing was wrong.

You clung onto every bit of hope that you could muster up that it would be Brienne at the door, taking everything back. Your stomach twisted when, instead of the tall, blonde knight, a decidedly shorter man with a dark mop of hair and a round face greeted you.

So she’d sent Podrick, just like she’d said.

You let him into your home, silently, watching as he moved nervously about the space, gathering weapons and armor and clothing - only the necessary things, nothing of sentimental value - and purposely avoiding your gaze.

When he was finished some ten minutes later, he stopped by the front door and, finally, looked you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kindly and with a sad smile.

You simply slammed the door in his face. This made you feel even worse - you’d always liked Podrick, and it’s not like any of this was his fault. But you were in no mood for pleasantries or pity, particularly not when Brienne was apparently too cowardly to face you.

~~~

One week. One week spent wallowing in your home, barely leaving - barely leaving the bed, for that matter. One week until you decided you had to get out and do something. Brienne had not called on you, she hadn’t once showed up or asked someone to check on you.

A distraction. Maybe that’s really all you’d been.

You’d been meaning to get a new dress fitted for some time. The seamstress in town had always been kind to you, always chatty and empathetic. Perhaps it was time you paid her a visit - perhaps she could even be a shoulder to lean on, someone to support you.

You appraised yourself in the little mirror in your bedroom. You’d certainly seen better days - your cheeks were puffy, your eyes rubbed raw from wiping away tears, your chest was splotchy and red. After taming your tangled hair into something resembling a hairstyle and changing into something other than your nightgown, you made your way into town, with the gown that needed altering folded carefully in your bag.

The little bell above the door to the shop jingled as you entered.

“Be right with ya!” called a muffled voice from one of the rooms in the back. Moments later, a petite woman scurried into view, her face nearly completely obscured by the armful of fabric she was carrying. She quickly dropped the fabric onto a nearby armchair and wiped her palms on her dress.

“Y/N, so good to see you,” Meera beamed, looking behind you as if searching for something, brow creasing. “Is the Lord Commander not with you today?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be coming alone from now on.” You offered her a wobbly smile, unable to stop your voice from trembling as you felt the familiar sting of oncoming tears.

“Oh.” Hazel eyes truly drank in your appearance for the first time, recognition dawning on Meera’s face. “Oh, come here, love.” She opened her arms to you and enveloped you in a tight hug. It felt decidedly different from the hug you really craved (Brienne’s) - Meera was much shorter, her hands smaller as they rested on your back, her grip lighter. But she was warm, and her voice was comforting as she cooed into your ear, and so you hugged her back and let out all the tears you couldn’t bear to hold in.

The alterations of your dress were quickly deemed second priority as Meera flitted about her shop to make you a cup of tea and ushered you to please, sit and make yourself at home. She sidled up next to you then, listening intently as you spilled your heart out about Brienne.

“The Lord Commander is a damned fool,” she muttered, scowling. “How anyone could let a pretty lady like you go is beyond me.”

Her serious tone drew a giggle out of your throat, your cheeks turning rosy.

“Couldn’t have been me,” Meera said resolutely, shrugging and smiling kindly at you - you couldn’t help but smile back.

~~~

Brienne trudged wearily towards the training grounds, unable to stop her mind from wandering as she had nothing to occupy herself with. The expression on Podrick’s face when he’d come back with arms and bags full of her belongings had filled her with such a burning sense of shame - the sad frown, the raised eyebrow as he’d simply asked her what she’d done. She hadn’t answered him - if she’d so much as opened her mouth she might’ve vomited on the spot.

The days (or had it been weeks now?) were blurring together for Brienne - she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Every morning she awoke without your warmth curling into her, every evening she fell asleep without first stealing a soft kiss - your absence had left a gaping hole in Brienne’s chest that she was certain she would never be able to fill. And it was all her own fault.

As she strode across the training grounds, she walked past a group of her men, all huddled up. One of them immediately began snickering as she passed by, causing her to come to a halt and cock her head towards him.

“Can I help you?” she grit out, hand coming to rest on the pommel of her sword.

The man’s friends recoiled, averting their eyes, but he himself was a little naive and a little bold, so he squared his shoulders and replied, condescension lacing his tone. “It’s talk of the town that the Lord Commander’s little girlfriend found herself someone new.”

Brienne felt her blood begin to boil. “Pardon?” she hissed, her knuckles turning white as they tightened around the hilt of her sword.

“Must’ve gotten bored of being the Lord Commander’s little wh-”

Brienne let out a fierce grunt, baring her teeth as her sword flashed in the sun, coming to rest under the man’s chin. The blade pressed into his flesh, drawing the tiniest bit of blood, and his eyes widened in fear - though his shit-eating grin never slipped from his face.

“Another word and I’ll have you cast out of King’s Landing,” Brienne growled. “Am I understood?”

There was a beat of silence. The man’s eyes flitted from Brienne’s face, red with anger, to the perfectly polished blade of Valyrian steel. Finally, he nodded his assent.

“Of course, Lord Commander.”

Brienne’s nostrils flared at his smirk, her heart thundering wildly in her chest. Eventually, she withdrew her sword and took a step back. “Get out of my sight.”

The small group all but dragged their friend away, leaving Brienne to stand alone in the middle of the training grounds, white-hot rage radiating off of her in waves. Rage and… confusion? Had you really moved on so quickly? Was she the last to know you’d found someone new?

She shouldn’t be upset with you for that. That’s what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? For you to find happiness with someone who wouldn’t hold you back.

It was for your own good, after all.

~~~

Even as the days went by, Brienne found herself unable to get her mind off the rumors of you finding someone else. It was driving her absolutely mad with longing - anytime she allowed her mind to wander, it bombarded her with images of you in someone else’s arms. Always nameless, always faceless - but with wandering hands and lips pressed to your throat, bringing a blinding smile to your face that had once only been directed at Brienne.

So here she was, trying to keep herself busy, walking up to the seamstress’s little shop to get a tear in a pair of trousers stitched up. It was something you could’ve easily fixed for her - Brienne’s large fingers were a bit too clumsy, a bit too out of practice for the fine stitches that would’ve been necessary here. Brienne would have sat next to you, watching you patch up her trousers - it would’ve taken far longer than necessary, with Brienne distracting you every few minutes to steal a kiss. You would’ve swatted her away, playfully and with little force, laughing in that lighthearted way that was reserved only for her.

Brienne shook the thought from her head and swallowed the lump in her throat as she reached Meera’s shop - though what she saw through the window had her stopping dead in her tracks. Brienne’s heart twitched with yearning as she saw you, sitting on a stool in the corner of the shop - Meera standing behind you, draped over your shoulders and showing you something in a book. You looked tired, somehow unlike yourself, but all Brienne could focus on was the smile on your face - it was genuine. More than that, it was directed at Meera, who giggled and leaned in closer.

A wave of nausea washed over Brienne and her lungs began to constrict. She felt frozen in time, watching your sweet little interaction. This is what you wanted, she had to remind herself firmly. Meera was a kind woman, with a steady job - a job where the greatest danger was an accidental poke with a sewing needle. She had a good reputation in town, she was well-liked and respected. Still, Brienne couldn’t help the way her blood ran cold as the rumors she’d heard were confirmed.

It was too much. Brienne tore her eyes away from the two of you, turning swiftly on her heel and fleeing the scene, her heart pounding wildly in her chest and her eyes stinging with tears.

It was for your own good. She wasn’t sure when she’d start to really believe it.

~~~

That night Brienne found herself sitting in the dark corner of a tavern, nursing goblet after goblet of wine. She wasn’t one to get drunk on purpose, not usually, but all she wanted tonight was to forget. To forget all the images burned onto the backs of her eyelids - your tear-stained face as she’d left you, Podrick’s pity-filled gaze from across the breakfast table, the sneers of some townsfolk that only seemed to be getting worse, the smile on your face as Meera stood close to you.

But somehow, with every drop of alcohol, the onslaught of images became stronger, harder to ignore. More memories joined in, until Brienne’s head was a jumbled mess of thoughts that taunted her, snippets of her life with you - her life without you.

It was for your own good, it was-

To hell with it.

She had to see you. She would just stop by… just to see if you were really happy with Meera, if the seamstress was treating you well - and, if she was, well then Brienne would leave you alone for good.

Brienne rose to her feet - too quickly, apparently, as she stumbled into the corner of the table. Maybe she was just a little more tipsy than she’d realized… She stepped out into the balmy night air and the world spun a little around her. Perhaps she should wait until morning, Brienne reasoned as she looked up at the inky black sky - it had to be at least midnight now, and she wasn’t sure how welcome she’d be, showing up drunk in the middle of the night. How welcome she’d be at all…

She was grateful that Podrick was already asleep when she snuck through the front door - she didn’t need his pity or his scrutiny. At least the alcohol was good for something - Brienne fell fast into a dreamless slumber, too exhausted to spend time ruminating.

Brienne held fast in her resolve the following morning - her feet carried her all the way to the home you’d formerly shared, her mind clouded with anger and despair in equal parts. When she knocked and didn’t receive a reply, she rounded the little house and stomped towards the garden, slowing her gait as she saw you sitting in the grass with your back to her.

With her heart pounding against her ribcage and her stomach fluttering anxiously, she took a few tentative steps towards you.

~~~

Gravel crunched behind you. You didn’t have to turn around - you would recognize those heavy footfalls anywhere - you’d spent years memorizing them, listening for them.

“You seem to have moved on quite quickly.” The question was so blunt that you couldn’t help but snort.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about, Brienne. Or would you like for me to address you as Ser now? Perhaps Lord Commander?” You couldn’t keep the venom from dripping from your lips - you could feel all the hurt and longing and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface threatening to boil over, and you didn’t care to stop it.

“The seamstress.”

“Meera?” Your stomach flipped uncomfortably. You’d noticed that the woman had taken a liking to you, even going so far as to openly flirt with you. But truth be told, you didn’t see her that way - you simply needed someone to lean on when Brienne had abandoned you, and Meera was… well, there.

Brienne’s next question was so quiet you nearly missed it, lost in your thoughts as you were. “Does she make you happy?”

You laughed - it was a hollow laugh, laced with bitterness and tinged with disappointment. You twisted to look up at Brienne - she stood behind you, back ramrod straight, hands clasped in front of her. Her face was an impassive mask, or so she thought - you could see the weight of her emotions behind bright sapphire eyes, the twitch of her lips as she waited for your reply.

“Does it matter? You’re the one who broke up with me, why do you care who I talk to? But for your information, Ser, she has been a kind friend to me when I couldn’t bear to be alone.” You raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Brienne scoffed.

“A friend, yes. I can see that. Everyone can see that.”

“What are you insinuating?”

Your eyes flashed dangerously and Brienne remained silent, her gaze falling to the ground.

If this was all she came for, well, you were done here. You stood, smoothing your skirt and looked defiantly up at Brienne. “I hope now, with all distractions gone, you can focus better on your precious duties. Seems to be working out well for you. Good day, Ser.”

“Wait.” Long fingers circled your wrist in a strong grip, holding you in place and whirling you around. Stormy blue eyes met your own, Brienne’s face a whirlwind of emotions.

“You and Meera, you’re not…?” She cocked her head to the side in question. For the first time you could see the heartbreak written plain as day on her face, and, despite your anger, you felt your heart clench with longing.

“Do you really think I could forget you that easily?” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to betray you.

Brienne opened her mouth, then closed it again, her eyes flitting between your own. This was the first good look you’d gotten of her, and she looked exactly how you felt - hollow, exhausted, hurt.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered finally.

“Didn’t mean what?” You felt your pulse pick up, your breathing shallow. You had to hear her say it.

“That you’re a distraction.” She spit the word out as if it were a dirty thing, and your stomach clenched. “You’re not. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I thought I was doing the right thing for us,” she snapped. She looked at you, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “Just because I chose this life for myself, doesn’t mean you have to.”

“What are you talking about, Brienne?” you snapped back, growing impatient.

“Don’t you want a family? Don’t you want to live your life without the fear that your partner could fall in battle any damned day?”

“And Meera can give me all of that?” You scoffed. “I have a right to choose what I want out of life, Brienne, you don’t get to make that choice for me. What’s really going on here?”

Brienne sighed. She seemed conflicted as her eyes darted between yours, her tongue coming out hesitantly to lick her lips. When she spoke, it was as if she was fighting to get every single word out. “I’m used to it, being sneered at and looked at as different - I don’t want to drag you into that. I don’t want my life to be too much for you.”

A heavy silence shrouded the pair of you like a veil. Of course it would all come back to Brienne’s insecurities. She was afraid of losing you, so she’d shut you out instead.

“Brienne?” you said finally, tearing your wrist from her grip and taking a step towards her.

“Yes?” she breathed, leaning in as if drawn by some magnetic force. You could feel her breath, warm and ragged, on your face - her scent filled your nostrils now, a mixture of soap and sweat, somehow managing to calm you instantly.

“You are an idiot.”

Brienne’s brow creased and she frowned, but then you smiled and a lovely, scarlet blush began to creep up her cheeks.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life waiting for you and worrying about you, than wondering what it would be like to have you at all. You’re my family Brienne. I don’t need more than that - I need you.”

Brienne surged forward, crashing her lips desperately into yours. A familiar warmth immediately flooded her chest as she allowed herself to get lost in you, tugging you closer by the waist. Your fingers threaded themselves into her short locks, like they always did, and Brienne breathed out a contented sigh as your tongue licked its way into her mouth. Oh, how she’d missed this.

“I love you,” she murmured between kisses, feeling you push yourself closer at those words. In that moment, nothing mattered except you and your lips - it was as if you were kissing for the very first time.

“Oh, and Bri?”

“Hmm?” “If you ever try something like that again, I swear I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.” Your smile was wide and Brienne’s laugh was loud and carefree, her heart swelling with joy. She knew it was not an empty threat - but she also knew she would spend the rest of her life guarding your heart with everything she had. Even from herself.

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#brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth #game of thrones

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wh0reforoldmen · 1 year

Text

Fettered Attachments

Pairing: Softdark! Steve kemp X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cannibalism, illusions of imprisonment/forced captivity, manipulation, lil angst, fluff? Steve Kemp (We all know he’s a warning)

Word count:1.64k

Summary: Being Steve’s captive is one thing- but falling for him is another.

You sat against the wall, staring at the painting on the wall in a deep trance. It was a beautiful painting; the colours all blended together delicately, the pinks and blues in a perfect gradient. You wonder where Steve got this from. You shuffled on your mattress while the chains keeping you bound to the floor clinked together and snapped out of your head due to the sudden noise. You looked out the door and sighed, seeing no sign of Steve.

You didn’t believe yourself when you said that you missed him. You're going to die from the loneliness and boredom you're experiencing. Penny doesn't talk to you, and the other girls have gone to their own worlds, somewhere less tortuous than this hell hole. You must miss your social interactions with him because he is the only person you talk to in this hell and the only person who... cares about you.

Penny stated that she doesn't care about you. The others don’t care. Steve said multiple times that no one cares about you as much as he does... Maybe that’s true; maybe he's the only person in the world who cares about you.

You stare at the door like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to come back home; you want to be held by him, his touch is always so soft; he treats you like a piece of china, if he moves you too roughly, you’ll break. No one has ever treated you like that before, and you yearn for it; you need it.

You couldn't express how happy you were to see his handsome face; you adored his eyes, they were your favourite feature of him. They were a beautiful steel blue with such softness towards you, the way they would light up every time he saw you; his smile was what stole your heart; it was so sweet and cute; he didn't have chubby cheeks, but you just wanted to squish his face.

“Hey, bunny. I'm going to check on the others, and I'll get back to you, okay?" He said with a smile. He walked out of your sight, and you waited patiently. You missed the sinister look in his smile as he noticed how much joy was in your eyes when you saw him.

It didn’t take long for him to come back and open the door and walk in, you could’ve tackled him into a hug if it wasn't for these chains. He walked over, and you shuffled out of the way, letting him lead on the wall while you straddled his lap and rested your head on his shoulder. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, taking in his cologne. Spicy wood and a bit of cinnamon—it suits him, and you like it.

His arms wrapped around your waist while a hand was placed on the small of your back. “Missed you, bunny,” he said, breaking the silence. He truly did, and it was unusual for him; none of his victims had ever made him feel this way before; he couldn't be away from you for long or he'd go insane! Your sweet smile and the way your eyes light up when you see him make his heart flutter. So he’s made an oath to himself: he will never let you go, he will never hurt you, and he won’t do anything to make you scared of him. He’ll treat you like no one has ever treated you before.

“Missed you too, Stevie... Where’d you go? You were gone for days!” you ask, sitting up and looking at him. You were worried sick about him, you had no idea where he had gone (which you never do, but this time was different), you were bored out of your mind, and you were hungry.

“I had to do something with old friends of mine, nothing for your cute little head to worry about.” He dismissed.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he turned to face you. “I can cook something for you,”

With no hesitation and no thought of how wrong this is, you nodded with a smile and asked, “Can I come with you too?” You pause for a moment before asking. You want to see him cook; it must be fun since you always hear 80s pop songs blasting from the kitchen.

He chuckled at how eager you were to come with him, but this is going a bit too quickly, he doesn't want to scare you away. "Sorry, bunny, but you have to stay down here. But I promise, I will let you watch next time, and maybe we can cook together," he suggested.

You have to admit that you were a little disappointed, but next time could be ages away. You didn’t want to argue, so you nodded, “Alright.” You had a slight disappointment in your voice before you got off his lap and sat back on the mattress. Steve chuckled and planted a kiss on your forehead before he got up and walked back upstairs.

You don’t know how long it’s been, but it’s been a long time since Steve went upstairs, and you were getting more and more impatient as the time went by, your stomach growling with need more regularly. You grumbled to yourself, telling Steve to hurry up.

Soon enough, he came back with a plastic tray with a meal, a side, and a glass of water. "Sorry, bunny, it took so long,” Steve said apologetically as he walked into the room and placed the tray in front of you “Was doing some other things while cooking,”

You smiled as you looked down at the food; it smelled amazing, and you know one thing about his food: it was all homemade, nothing is from a tin or anything, it was all from scratch. You had to guess two pork ribs, which looked amazing with the bbq sauce drizzled all over them, and the side of the plate, which had some potatoes and some vegetables. You picked up the knife and fork and gladly dug in, Steve watching you with intense eyes as you cut up the ribs and placed the meat into your mouth, watching your mouth move while you chewed.

Your eyes went wide with how much flavour there was; you’ve had his food plenty of times, but you always seem to forget that he is an excellent chef with how seasoned it is. Not just salt and pepper, there's more you've probably never heard of.

Steve saw the look in your eye and smiled to himself. “Like it? It's a new recipe, wanted to try it,” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

You looked up at him and nodded with a smile before digging back in. You didn’t let any go to waste; you just ate and ate till there was nothing left on the plate but the bones of the ribs.

Steve watched your every move, he was shocked, to say the least, that you didn’t realise that those weren't pork bones, but he wasn't going to spoil your meal.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say, looking up at him with a smile.

He shook his head, moved the tray to one side, and shuffled over to you, placing you in his lap again, your back against his chest, sitting between his legs. You both sat there in silence for a while before you decided to break it. “Steve, remember when you said that you were the only person who actually cared for me?” You inquire, looking up at him with interest.

“Yeah, what about it, bunny?” He replied, looking down at you, perplexed. What were you getting at?

“Did you really mean it? My friends are looking for me, aren't they?” You inquire, sitting up slightly and recalling your friends in your memory, how much fun you guys had and how they cared about you. They're looking, aren't they?

“Oh, Bunny. Your friends were... not the nicest of people; remember how they controlled you? They said not to follow me here because I was odd, remember? And they aren't looking for you because, as I said and as you repeated, I am the only one who actually cares for you.” He said this while cupping your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “They don’t know you like I know you, they never knew the real you, did they? But I do, I know you, Bunny”

“If you want to push me away if you want me to go, I’m not going anywhere, I want you, and I love you, bunny." He confessed without exactly realising it, he was just saying what he wanted to say for so long “I know you’ve tried to run away, you make make mistakes, but that’s okay, we can work on that, you can make mistakes around me, we can work on that,”

You looked at him with wide eyes, did he just say that he loves you? He loves you. You can be yourself around him, and he won't judge you. Your friends never said it, but you could tell they wanted you to be quiet... Maybe he’s right, maybe he is the only person who cares for you. No, he does care for you, and he said it. He loves you, and you think you love him too.

Steve stoked your cheeks as you processed everything he had just said, and you broke down, feeling as if the walls around you had crumbled and you could just... do whatever you wanted.

His attention was drawn to your lips, soft lips, before returning to your eyes. You leaned in and softly pressed your lips against his as if you had just read his mind.

Something in both of you felt completed as if a chapter in a book had just ended and a new one was about to begin. Maybe life here isn’t going to be so bad for you after all.

#Steve Kemp #steve kemp fanfiction #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp x you #steve kemp x fem!reader #Steve kemp x black!reader #steve kemp x curvy!reader #Steve kemp oneshot #steve kemp imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #x reader #Sebastian Stan #Tumblr fanfic #angst #fluff

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fluffansmut-old · 1 year

Note

Hope you're not over run with requests I really love your writing. I was hoping you could do something a little differently like eddie/reader are dating and his friend who's had a crush on him tries to break them up etc I'm always reading fics where reader is the best friend and eddie breaks up with the gf for her and tbh I want to see it the other way around where the gf is really sweet and nice and his friends tries to break them up but eddie choses the reader instead bc well he loves her.

A/N: Thank you so much! Requests like these makes my heart so warm, I really hope I interpreted the request like you imagined it. Also Chrissy had to take the role of the flirty friend here. Really hope you like it!

Summary: Chrissy has an obvious crush on the man you´re dating, and maybe she´s better for him than you are...

Content warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Fluff, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1670

Fic is also posted on Ao3

Requests are open, so if you have any leave them.

Masterlist

I can never be her

Her giggle used to be cute in middle school but now you just found it infuriating…

Ever since that time she bought weed from Eddie for this homecoming party, Chrissy Cunningham started to make appearances around your friendship group when you least expected it.

Objectively you knew that she was kind, that she was gorgeous and undeniably charming.

The problem was that she was kind and charming towards the guy you were dating.

You and Eddie had not expressly said that you were exclusive and up until Chrissy started inviting herself you hadn’t felt the need to express what you and Eddie were. Everyone else just sorta knew, by the way his hand always seemed to find yours. How your chair more or less always was empty, because Eddie's lap was your preferred seat, with his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You did your absolute best to not let Chrissy's presence bother you too much, even though her flirting with Eddie was absolutely obvious, and the fact that it never seemed like she ever thought that you were an obstacle in her plan.

The rest of your friends all seemed to really enjoy having Chrissy around, which first of all made you annoyed.

Didn’t they see how she threw herself at Eddie, an in-every-way-but-officially taken man? It also meant that you couldn’t vent the annoyance and self doubt that floated around in your mind with someone.

This only spurred on the annoyance within you further.

It all peaked this one wednesday when your math teacher was “disucussing consequences” with the entire class,when only about two people in the class had disrupted her lesson. This resulted in you being well over 12 minutes late for lunch.

Eddie and the rest of your friendship group were waiting for you outside your classroom when a certain cheerleader with her perfect ponytail walked up to them.

“Ooo! Hi guys, fancy seeing you here?” Chrissy said, putting her manicured hand on the leather clad bicep that belonged to Eddie Munson.

He turned his head towards her and smiled at her, a gesture that from his view, was mere courtesy, but to her meant way more.

“You look good today,” Chrissy said to him, removing a strand of hair from his face delicately.

“Huh?” Eddie said, to be honest he hadn’t really listened to her, he was busy wondering and worrying slightly about the fact that your class hadn’t been dismissed yet.

Chrissy blushed when he looked at her. She didn’t feel like repeating her statement, it felt like it lost meaning when you said it more than once, so instead she just said;

“Are we heading to lunch?”

Eddie explained that they were headed there, but that they just had to wait for you first.

“Oh,” Chrissy said, “I was just thinking that we better get there before someone snags our table”

The other bought her reasoning but Eddie looked longingly toward the door that you were behind.

“Go on you guys,” he said. “I’ll wait for her”

This didn’t sit well with Chrissy. Eddie was the main reason behind why she wanted to have lunch with you guys.

“Cmon Eddie, I’m sure she’ll come join us later, she knows the way to the cafeteria” Chrissy said, tugging slightly on Eddie’s underarm.

He felt torn, all of his friends were waiting for him, but at the same time, you were expecting him to be there waiting for you.

“We’ll, uh, yeah I guess.”

You were indeed expecting him to be outside the door when you were dismissed 20 minutes later than you should have.

Your heart dropped a little as you saw a seemingly empty corridor.

I guess they grew too hungry. You thought and took off towards the crowded cafeteria.

Your hadn’t even entered when you saw it.

Chrissy in her short cheer-skirt, looking so incredibly perfect, perched up on the armrest of Eddie’s chair, chatting away to this jock and his girlfriend, and you noticed she made Eddie engage in the conversation.

That’s when another level of self doubt surrounding all of this,hit you.

You started to imagine what it would mean for Eddie, purely socially, if he was dating Chrissy.

She had a lot of say, and people trusted her judgement. If she dated Eddie then maybe people would stop treating him like utter garbage.

But only she had the mandate to do such a thing, you were about as low on the social ladder as any other nerd in the school.

It stung too much behind your eyes and you realised that you couldn’t keep it together well enough to enter the cafeteria and pretend that everything was fine. So instead you bolted, running away until you found a good place to hide and be alone with your thoughts.

That was how you ended up curled up in the dungeon master throne, in the dark drama room, hugging your own knees with tears trickling down your cheeks. All whilst your brain was telling you over and over again how you weren’t enough for him.

In the cafeteria Eddie was stressing over the fact that you hadn’t shown up yet.

He tried to bide the time, hoping that you would eventually show, but when you were a no show after 30 minutes he decided that he had waited long enough.

“I’m gonna go find her” he mumbled and rose from the chair, inevitably bumping Chrissy off the armrest as he did.

“Where are you off to?” She asked, obviously she hadn’t heard him.

He didn’t reply, he was way too focused on finding you.

He walked past your classroom, and found it empty when he glanced through the window.

He realised that something must have happened and he began to search in the different places where you usually went when you needed to be alone.

You weren’t in the forest behind school.

You weren’t under the bleachers.

You weren’t by his truck.

He however noticed that some muffled noises were coming from the drama room when he walked past, and smacked himself mentally for not checking there first.

“Sweetheart?” He called out as he opened the door. “You in here?”

You buried your face in your knees, hoping that he wouldn’t hear your sniffles and come find you like this.

Luck however wasn't on your side and soon he was squatting in front of the throne, a heavy comforting hand on your knee.

“Baby, did something happen?” He asked, one hand softly caressing the back of your head, trying to coax your head out of your own lap, but with no success. “Do I need to hurt someone?”

”No” you whimpered softly. “You can go back to her Eddie, I’ll be okay”

“Go back to who?” He asked, still slightly confused as to what caused you so much distress.

“Chrissy” you said barely above a whisper, you didn’t actually want to say it, because it could mean that he’d actually leave, but at the same time, he asked.

Eddie was dumbfounded for a minute, what did Chrissy have to do with anything?

Then realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

Of course he had noticed Chrissy’s attempts, he wasn’t completely oblivious.

They meant nothing to him so he hadn’t bothered himself to much about it, but now he felt guilty when he realised that they had meant something to you.

“Baby, can you look at me,” he asked, feeling his own heart breaking for you more and more by every passing second.

You glanced up, unable not to when he sounded so soft.

“Eddie, I understand, she has things I’ll never have, she’s another level of gorgeous, she is smart, everyone loves her,” more tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke the words that had tormented your mind all morning,”she has a say in things Eddie.She's your shot to climb the social ladder and I think you should take it.”

Eddie's insides broke with every word you spoke.

”Sweetheart,” was all he got out in response as he was trying to figure out how to express the love he had for you in a way that made you feel it in every fibre of your being.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain anything, I have come to realise that I am not her.” You said, looking at the puzzled man in front of you.

“That’s true” he said and the little dying hope inside was about to be put out, until he continued.

“And that’s why I want to be with you.”

You looked up at him properly this time, as if you couldn’t really believe what he was saying.

“What?”

“Can I hold you?” Eddie asked, he couldn’t see you hurt anymore without doing anything about it.

“Please” you pleaded, sounding so extremely tired of trying and failing to hold it together.

You got off the throne and Eddie got in it, then he opened his arms for you, which you quickly dove into.

You were with your back against Eddie chest, your head nuzzled in between his shoulder and cheek, inhaling the faint scent of musky wood and tobacco. The scent of Eddie.

“I”m sorry I never realised the way all her attempts were affecting you.” Eddie said. “If I knew I could have made it more clear to Chrissy, about us, I mean, I just sorta thought she’d figure it out and back off.”

“I’m sorry for feeling like this, I really tried not to..” you said, fiddling slightly with the rings that Eddie had on his left hand. “I mean it’s not that we’re official so I dunno …”

“Never apologise for that sweetheart, It’s a totally valid feeling and reaction.” He said and pecked the top of your head. Then he paused for a second, thinking. “Why aren’t we officially?”

You thought about it for a second.

“You want to be?” You asked, looking up into his soft brown eyes.

“Since the day we met gorgeous”

#eddie munson x reader

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blueraineshadows · 11 months

Note

Thank you so much for responding to my request last time, it was so good! I have another concept that's also inspired by something else if you don't mind?

Sebastian and MC are married, but he goes missing (due to his dangerous job) and is thought to be dead for years. MC is still grieving, but trying to move on. She gets engaged to another wizard, but Sebastian finally returns after trying his best to get back to her. They have a huge fight when Sebastian finds out (it'd be nice if it had a happy *smutty* ending, though).

"Where do you get off letting him think he can have you? You're mine and I'm yours. That's it!"

Great Request! 😃 Thank-you 💜

This has angst! It's also long! NSFW 🌶 🔥

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Mrs Sallow) as adults.

My beloved, Sebastian,

They tell me you are gone, forever, lost to me...dead. I haven't seen your face for over two years now, and my deepest fear suspects they may be right. But in my heart, safe for always, you will remain. As much as it hurts me, I could never let you go completely, for that would mean the end of me also.

I know our friends mean well, they wish to see me happy, at peace perhaps. But it has been hard to hear their insistent pleas for me to move on. Of late, I have had to succumb to their pleas. I'm not sure I can handle another visit to the morgue to identify another poor soul, the guilt of my relief that it is never you under the cloth, but some other lost loved one. I don't envy their family's pain, but it is another desperate scrap of hope that you are still alive.

We are holding a ceremony for you, to say goodbye, to let you go. I cannot say goodbye, merely farewell, for one day I know we will be reunited. How could we not? Whatever awaits beyond the mortal realm, I will find you there, my whole soul is destined for it. It always was.

It breaks me that you had to go before me, and all I have left are my memories, precious moments that are a comfort during dark, lonely nights.

Forgive me for having to let you go, if only for a time. I will love you forever, just as I promised you.

Wait for me. I will wait for you.

Your wife, MC.

Six months later...

"Matthew has proposed," MC said. Her fingers clutched her teacup a little tighter. The words sounded so terribly real when said out loud.

Poppy paused as she went to take a sip from her own tea cup, her eyes widening. She quickly put down her cup and put a hand on MC's arm. "Oh my goodness," she said. Concern clouded her face. "How...I mean...what did you say?"

"I told him I needed to think about it," MC said. Which was the truth. She looked down at her left hand, the silver band symbolising her eternal promise to Sebastian still there on her finger. Her voice became a whisper. "I can't help but feel like I am being unfaithful."

"Oh, MC," Poppy said. "I know it must feel strange, and of course it's so very difficult. But, you deserve to find some happiness, MC. And, Matthew is so lovely, I know he would take care of you."

MC nodded. "That's what makes it so difficult, Poppy. Matthew is wonderful, so understanding. He told me to take all the time I need to think. He would make a wonderful husband, but..."

The pause lay heavy between them. Poppy nodded knowingly. "He isn't Sebastian."

MC took a swallow of tea to loosen the restriction in her throat. She took a deep breath. "However, I did make a promise to try and move on, didn't I? Maybe a new beginning would be the best way to go about it."

"I agree," Poppy said. "It would gladden my heart to see you happy again, MC."

....*....

The fire crackled and dipped in the hearth. MC sat cross legged before it, her eyes watching the flames dance. Passion, and heat, unpredictability, fire had always reminded her of Sebastian.

A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Matthew smiled down at her, handing her a wine goblet. She took it with thanks. He folded to sit on the rug beside her. "Are you cold?" He asked. He wrapped an arm about her, rubbing her arm with his hand.

"No, just unwinding," she smiled. She leant her head against his shoulder. He was sturdy, safe, comforting. Traits that had made her gravitate towards him. It kept the edge off her loneliness.

He pressed a kiss to her head, his thumb making lazy circles on her arm. He had never pushed her to be physical with him, knowing how fragile her heart was. He had been an exemplary gentleman, and she was grateful for it.

She sipped her wine, the firelight glinting off the diamond she wore on her ring finger. She had accepted his proposal. Sebastian's ring was now on a chain around her neck, close to her heart. She rubbed a hand absently against it through the fabric of her blouse.

"I thought perhaps we could take a boat trip tomorrow," Matthew suggested. "We could get some fresh air, maybe take a picnic. It would be good to escape the city for a while."

"That sounds perfect," she smiled. She looked up at him. He had lovely, blue eyes, blue like the sky. His hair was fair, neatly trimmed. He was nothing like Sebastian, and that was how she wanted it.

Matthew's gaze was warm, loving. He tightened his hold a little, his gaze dropping to her lips. MC felt a little breathless and wondered if perhaps she had drunk too much wine. His kiss was soft, testing. He did not want to pressure her.

MC felt her body respond. It was weak, just a flutter, but it was the first time she had felt anything remotely close to desire in years. She kissed him back.

As the kiss deepened, the warmth of it seemed to ease back the cavern of loneliness that had carved itself in her chest. So, she let him lay her back on the rug, his mouth claiming hers more deeply.

There was a war going on inside of her. Half was opening up, reaching out for the closeness, the warmth, after so long in the dark. The other half of her was screaming, no, this was all wrong. She was wrong, a betrayer, she was betraying Sebastian.

She pulled back from Matthew's kiss, her hands flat against his chest. She could feel the pounding of his heart.

"Are you alright?" He asked. The concern in his gaze made her want to scream and rip at her own hair. She was being so unfair to him. She would be a terrible wife. He deserved so much better.

"A little overwhelmed," she breathed. She winced. "Forgive me. I think I need a minute."

"Of course," he said. He immediately sat up, adjusting his trousers.

"You must think I am a terrible tease," she grimaced. "That is not my intention."

"No, MC, I don't think that at all. I think you have suffered a terrible loss, and I do not ever expect to fill the hole Sebastian left behind." Matthew said. "I wish I could take the pain away for you, truly I do. I only hope that, one day, you can love me even a fraction of what you felt for him."

MC felt her heart squeeze painfully. Matthew was a good person. She did not deserve him. She reached out and took his hand. "How are you so perfect?"

A sharp rap on the front door made them both jump and turn. "Who on earth could that be at this hour?" MC asked.

Matthew frowned. "I will see to it." He got to his feet and MC couldn't help lift her eyebrows. He was sweet for thinking that she needed protecting, after all, she was a far more powerful witch than most.

She heard the door open and the surprise in Matthew's voice. "Ominis!"

MC immediately got to her feet. It was very unlike Ominis to call upon her so unexpected like this. Her heart kicked up a notch and she twisted her fingers together as he appeared in the living room doorway.

"Good evening, MC. I am sorry to call on you so late, but this couldn't wait," he said. He looked grave, a little flustered even. He tilted his head trying to locate her.

She went to him, reaching for a hand. "Ominis, I'm here, it's alright." He squeezed her fingers, his usual cool fingers hot and sweaty. She swallowed. "What is it?"

"I don't know where to start," he said. He pressed long fingers to his brow. "I had word through the Ministry that a stronghold of slavers has been discovered in America. There were many prisoners, witches and wizards from all over the world, Aurors, Unspeakables..."

MC felt his grip tighten on her fingers, his bones grating against hers. She didn't even feel the pain. Her vision was starting to tunnel. All she could see was his face, her eyes fixed on his lips as the words came out. "Go on," she urged.

Ominis took a deep, shuddering breath. "The list of survivors, the ones they brought back..."

"Ominis," she said. Her voice was a strangled plea. She was clinging to his hand, her other hand reached out to grab the front of his immaculate robes. Hope was being dangled in front of her eyes. Years of agony were twisting harshly in her chest and her ears were screaming for what he had to say next. Oh, Merlin, please!

He nodded and got a hold of himself, his eyes blinking back the sudden shine in them. "His name was on that list, MC. Sebastian...he has been found."

She could hear someone wailing, a terrible, wrenching sound and then all was quiet. Soothing blackness wrapped around her and then there was nothing else.

....*....

She blinked. Once, twice, the living room swimming into view. She felt heavy, sluggish, her mouth glued shut. MC tried to sit up on the settee, and then hands were there steadying her shoulders. Matthew's face was a picture of worry.

She turned her head, and there in the wingback chair sat Ominis, looking anything but his usual composed self. His fingers were clutching the arms of the chair, his face rigid, his hair a little ruffled.

They had found him!

"Is it true?" She croaked.

Ominis turned his face her way, his lips trembled, and he nodded. "The survivors were brought back to England three days ago. I made some enquiries and Sebastian was placed in a safe house. I had trouble believing it myself, and so I made arrangements to go and make absolutely sure it was true."

Her heart was a wild thing in her chest, it hurt to breathe. "You've seen him?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "I saw him not two hours ago."

Her breath left her in a rush, a tear slid from her cheek. She shook, uncontrollably, and shifted, fully facing him now. "Can we...can I," she gasped. She put her fingers to her lips. "Is he alright?"

"He is alive, and not badly wounded. I can't say much about his state of mind, of course. He is...understandly, traumatised. But he did ask for you. It was one of the first things he said to me." Ominis said. He hesitated, his fingers flexing. "He wanted to know everything...about you. I...filled him in a little. I apologise."

She flinched and slid from the couch to her knees, literally crawling across the floor to clasp Ominis' hand. "Take me to him, please."

Ominis held her hand, but his head turned in the direction of Matthew, a pained look on his face. MC gasped and swung her gaze around to Matthew, horrified that she had completely forgotten he was standing there. She began to stutter out an apology, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Don't say another word," he said. His eyes were sad, but his mouth was firm. "Go, go to him. It's only right." He faltered. "He is your husband, after all."

....*....

Ominis and MC Apparated to the location of the safe house. The road was dark, quiet, a chill breeze tugging at the trees. Set back from the road was the house, an Auror standing guard near the door. A light glowed in a downstairs window.

MC was clinging on to Ominis' arm, too afraid to let go lest she just collapse to the ground. None of this felt real. He led her through the gate and towards the door, her feet stumbling along the path.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Ominis asked.

"I will crawl through that door if I have to," she said through gritted teeth. "I need to see."

The Auror guard gave a nod to Ominis. "Gaunt," he said, respectfully. His eyes took in MC. "Mrs Sallow, I take it."

"I think Mr and Mrs Sallow need some time," Ominis said. "By all means, keep your guard, but perhaps at a distance. I will be nearby as well, but they need some privacy just now."

"Understood." The Auror gave the door a long look before he made for the gate. "I will be along the front of the property."

"Why are they guarding him?" MC asked.

Ominis frowned. "Not all the slavers have been caught yet, and every survivor is a witness. It's for Sebastian's protection."

"Anyone coming for him will have to get through me first," she growled. It gave her some of her strength back to think that anyone might be about to snatch him away from her again, and she hadn't even seen him yet.

Ominis held her close for a moment. "I don't doubt it," he said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she looked up at him in surprise. Ominis was not one for overly displaying affection. "Will you be alright, now?"

"Yes," she said. "And thank you. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's only where you belong, MC," he said. He moved from her grip and knocked on the door. "I doubt you will need me, but I won't be far away. He...he did not take the news well that there is another gentleman in your life."

MC could well imagine it. Sebastian wasn't the sharing type, especially when it came to her. But then, she would have felt just the same if another woman had laid a hand on him. She opened her mouth to reassure Ominis, but the latch sounded on the door.

The door opened, the light from inside spilling out onto the front step. MC stared, eyes wide, heart pounding as Sebastian stepped into view.

"You have a visitor, brother," Ominis said. He gave MC a gentle nudge forward.

Sebastian and MC looked at each other for the first time in almost three years. Her eyes devoured his face, ogling the shape of him, lines and angles she knew so well, but they were oddly strange to her now. He looked leaner, shadows under his eyes making him look weary, and there was a scar on his forehead that disappeared into his hair line.

Her name whispered from his lips. She took a faltering step towards him, and then another. He just stared, his eyes trying to comprehend that she was truly there at all. Her hand reached up, her fingers trembling so badly, that she missed on her first attempt. But then, she was touching him.

Her fingers trailed from his forehead, down over his nose to brush against his mouth. "You're real," she breathed. "It's really you."

A tear slid from his eye, rolling over his cheek. Her lips trembled. And then she was in his arms, crushed against him, as a sob ripped from her throat.

He held her so tightly that she could hardly breathe, but she didn't care. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing him in with small gasps, her fingers gripping at whatever she could get a hold of. He was solid, he was warm, he was here, alive.

Ominis slipped quietly away into the shadows, leaving husband and wife to find each other again.

....*....

The inside of the cottage was sparsely furnished but warm, a fire burning in the grate. The remains of a half eaten meal was on a tray, and a blanket was hanging off the edge of the settee.

MC wandered in behind Sebastian, her eyes constantly checking he was still there, feeling a little adrift since he had released her from that choking hug. He hadn't looked at her since, his face tense as he began to pace before the fireplace.

"I can't believe you're actually here," she said. "It's like a dream."

He spun to face her, his eyes hard. She flinched as he strode towards her, snatching up her hand to look at Matthew's diamond on her ring finger. He dropped her hand as if it burned him. "Some fucking dream," he hissed.

"Sebastian..."

"Do you have any idea what it was like!" He snapped. His face was so harsh, so cold. "Night after night, the screams, the beatings. An endless loop of nothingness. I thought I was going to go mad, I felt myself slipping away, but I kept hanging on. It was you! Your face, my memory of you, that kept me going. And now, now I find out that you replaced me! You're wearing another man's ring on your finger instead of the one I gave you!"

His voice had reached a pitch that made her press her fingers to her face, the fury in his eyes so much to bear that she gasped, her heart breaking into a thousand splinters.

He growled viciously and kicked out at a chair at the table. It clattered to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "Let me explain..."

He glared at her. "Does he touch you? Does he make you feel good?"

MC remembered the kiss her and Matthew had shared mere hours ago and flushed, but she shook her head. "No, Sebastian, please..."

"You're lying," he spat. He began to pace again, his hands raking through his hair. He swore harshly.

MC gritted her teeth. Her own shame at accepting Matthew gnawed at her, had she not felt like she was betraying Sebastian? She had not wanted to let him go, but had tried to, tried to please her friends, tried to be happy.

This was not how she had envisioned a reunion taking place. She watched Sebastian pace, his fury darkening his face, the pain flickering in and out in his eyes. "Stop this," she said. "I never stopped loving you."

He lunged for her arm, holding her hand up between them. The ring shone brightly in the firelight. "This says different."

His face was close and her heart ached for him. She felt the sting of tears. She fumbled her chain from out of her blouse, his ring hanging from it. "I never let you go, not really," she said.

He eyed the ring and then her. He shook his head. "You were all I thought about." He sounded broken.

He released her arm and turned away.

"I had to bury you!" She wailed.

He stiffened.

Her hands curled into small fists. "We had a ceremony, each of us saying how much we loved you. We put momentoes in a box and buried it because there was no body to say goodbye to. I wrote you letters, hundreds of them, but I had nowhere to send them. I had to bury them in the ground, with all the hope I could barely hang on to that you were still alive."

He turned to face her. She was really crying now, huge, fat tears of despair. She jabbed a finger at him. "You were gone. I was alone, so fucking alone, and I tried to find you. Searching, begging, pleading, driving everyone mad with my nonstop hope that you would be found. I almost threw myself into death's arms at one point, I thought it might be the only way to escape the pain of you not being there when I woke up every day."

Sebastian swallowed, some of the fury fading from his face. "You...you were going to kill yourself?"

She was panting, sucking in deep breaths, chest tight. She swiped the tears from her face and turned away from him, her cheeks colouring with her shame. She had never admitted that out loud until now. She calmed herself, smoothing her hands over her hips

"How was I supposed to go on without you? It was a really low point, but I was lucky. I had friends who cared enough to pick me up. And then...and then I met Matthew."

Sebastian scowled. But MC continued. "He was kind, he tried to help me. He works at the Ministry and he tried to help in my search for you. He took care of me, he never pressed me for anything in return."

"Sounds like a right hero," Sebastian muttered.

"Maybe he is," she said, whirling to face him. "He was certainly there for me. After we all said goodbye to you, he asked me to marry him. I agonised over it, but eventually accepted. But do you know what he said when Ominis came to get me tonight? He told me to come to you, that it was only right that I did. He didn't try to stop me."

"He wouldn't have got far if he had tried," Sebastian growled. He stalked towards her, his hand catching hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "How could you ever think about letting him touch you?"

MC was breathing hard and fast again, her heart hammering in her chest. Their gazes were locked, the fire in Sebastian's eyes shifting from fury to pure desire, a hunger so deep and vast she was starting to drown in it. A flame flickered into life deep inside her, trails of fire spreading thick and fast through her veins.

He could still do it. After all this time apart, he made her blood sing, made her melt into the merest touch. "We didn't...he hasn't..." She swallowed hard. "I wasn't ready."

He lowered his face to hers. "Good," he breathed into her mouth. "You're mine, and I'm yours. That's it!"

MC lowered her eyes to his mouth. Slowly, agonisingly slow, he leant in and pressed his lips against hers. A moan, relief mixed with need, sounded in MC's throat.

He gripped her hair at the back of her head, kissing her deeply, stumbling back towards the table with her. Desperate groans fell from their lips as he lifted her skirt, parting her legs as she sat up on the edge of the table.

He stroked his fingers against her heat, finding it pleasingly wet. "Oh fuck," he groaned. He shifted, opening his trousers and pulling his arousal free.

Need came before anything else. He pressed inside of her, thrusting deep, greedily. She cried out at the immediate stretch. It had been a long time, his thickness burning along her walls, but she didn't stop him. Instead, her hips lifted to meet him, needing to feel him fill her up. His eyes were glazed, drunk on the very feel of her, he began to thrust, deep, desperate, like a man starved.

His fingers dug into her flesh, his lips were parted and his breaths came harshly as he fucked. He wasn't violent, but neither was he gentle. His release came hard and fast, his hips bucking desperately and a growl tearing from his mouth as he collapsed over her. She held him, her hand stroking through the unruly locks of his hair, calming him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His head was buried against her chest. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. It felt so good to be holding him again. It had been a long time, she had understood his need, let him take what he longed for.

He straightened and took hold of her hand. "Come on," he said.

"Where are we going?"

He smirked. Her heart glowed at the sight of it. The memory of that smirk had haunted her dreams, but there it was, for real. "I'm taking my wife upstairs to my bed," he said. "I am far from done with you."

....*....

MC couldn't have told a soul what that bedroom looked like when she first entered it. So intent were they on each other, removing every barrier of clothing, tossing it all to the floor without a care, just desperate to feel skin against skin.

The blanket was cold against her back, no fire up here, just the moonlight gleaming through the window. She arched her back, welcoming the feel of Sebastian's lips as he kissed her breasts, learning every curve again like it was the first time.

Her heart beat for him, her pulse skittering madly as he sucked at her neck, his hands exploring the curve of her waist. Her nipples brushed against his chest hair, hardening into desperate peaks. Fuck, she was aching with the need for him, it was almost a pain that only he could heal.

"Sebastian," she whined.

"I know," he whispered. He kissed her, his teeth tugging on her bottom lip. "Patience, my love, I need to taste all of you. Trust me, I will give you what you seek, and more."

MC moaned, her fingers seeking greedily through his hair, massaging his scalp, drawing moans from his lips. Every sound he made was a balm against the pain in her chest. He was alive. He was here.

Her fingers traced new scars on his chest, hurts he had endured so far from home. She kissed them, her tongue trying to soothe the pain inflicted on him. She caught a nipple in between her teeth and tugged, his cock twitching and dripping onto her thigh.

She reached for him, teasing fingers drifting up the silky hardness. "MC..."

She smiled against his skin, breathing in the scent of him, feeling like she was finally at peace. She began to stroke up and down his length and his hips bucked. He groaned and pressed her back down onto the bed. "No," he breathed. "It's your turn."

His mouth worshipped her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, swirling hotly. She found herself lost in a haze of fire, only his mouth, his hands, the sounds of his breathing mattered. She reached up to grip the blanket behind her head, her thighs separating, her hips grinding as his hot tongue slid luxuriously up her slit.

Oh, he knew what she liked!

Waves of delicious flame circled hotly at her core as his tongue swirled over her clit, his fingers teasing cries from her lips as he fucked her, slow, and with a knowing touch. She whimpered, her thighs beginning to tremble, as her release began to build.

Three years without him, three years of yearning, and now he was here, driving her over the edge again, sending her spinning outwards to see stars. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding his head right where she needed him most as her climax hit.

She was shaking, tears flooding her eyes, and he held her. His kisses warmed her cheeks, her neck, his hands smoothing up her back and over her hips. "That's my girl," he whispered. "Gods, I have missed you."

Barely having caught her breath back, Sebastian rolled them, settling her above him. "Fuck me," he begged. "Show me how much you missed me. I want to watch as you fuck me."

Aftershocks tingled through MC, her cunt pulsing with a need to feel him deep inside her. She caught his arousal in her hand, pumping him softly, her thumb sliding over his tip. He held her hips, his hungry eyes watching as she lined him up against her soaked entrance. He parted his lips, anticipation thick on his tongue, a delicious groan leaving him as she slid on to his cock.

She rolled her hips, her head falling back, her hair trailing down her back, the moonlight soft against the sweat on her skin. He let her move at her own pace, licking his lips at the sounds coming from her throat, at the hot slickness of her walls sliding along him.

MC still had a hunger for him, a need to feel out of control, lost in him. She angled her hips, ensuring that his throbbing tip was stroking just where she needed him. The pressure began to build and she began to bounce harder. His hands caressing her breasts as they jiggled with her efforts.

He was appreciating every move she made, his hips bucking to meet her, his own fire building to the limit. "Cum for me, MC," he said. He slid a thumb to press against her nub. She cried out, her hips twitching. He looked down, saw the slick shining on his cock. He licked his lips. "Mine, all mine."

She clenched around him, desperate cries echoing around the room. Sebastian knew the Auror was still outside. He hoped he could hear her, let the whole fucking world hear what he did to her. She was his wife, his love, his fucking everything. He wanted everyone to know it.

Driven mad by his utter need to claim her again, he flipped her, her hair fanning out across the blanket. He grabbed her hand, tugging the diamond free and letting it tumble across the bed. He linked their fingers, his eyes roaming over her as she panted below him. He saw his ring, attached to the chain around her neck, pooling in the dip of her throat.

He bent to catch it up into his mouth, rolling it on the tip of his tongue. He bent to kiss her, softly, his cock aching to fuck her, the ring caught between their mouths.

"I love you," she breathed. "I've never stopped."

He smiled, the ring slipping to fall onto the bed near her ear. He would be putting that right back on her finger where it belonged. But first...

He slid into her, rolling his hips, revelling in the way she clenched around him, sucking him deeper. He couldn't hold it off any longer. He fucked her, hard, unforgiving, burying her into the mattress under the fire of his need. She clung to him, her nails scraping against his flesh and he savoured every scratch.

The sweat dripped from his face, the room was filled with the slap of their skin, the grunts and cries of their pleasure, and then he squeezed his eyes shut, hips bucking. Hot release spilled into her, and she squeezed her muscles, drawing every last drop from him.

They collapsed into a breathless heap of limbs, mouths seeking and finding each other in a long, slow kiss.

As their breathing calmed, and their flesh cooled, he drew the blanket over them both, holding her close. She looked sleepy, content. He kissed her forehead. As he settled onto the pillow beside her, holding her warmth close, he thanked every star for letting him get back to her.

His nightmares hovered over his shoulder, but he grit his teeth, willing them to stay away. Let him have tonight, just tonight, to hold her, to remember.

Tomorrow, the healing could begin for real.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #blueraineshadows #sebastian sallow smut

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