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#she was already hot in previous
renrib · 7 months
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Babe wake up new An outfit just dropped
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scover-va · 2 years
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Anyways I think the entire collective dmg fandom (well, the portion that has played The Hex) would’ve list their fucking minds if that was Carla and not Amanda. Why? Because I think it’s funny, I’m a Carla fan, and also makes the lil Sado cameo less,,,idk, random-? Ig-? Idk how to explain it. Besides we see Sado in a Luke-only video too so I think Carla being sent to watch over Luke would make sense
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tojikai · 9 months
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Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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bloodyhoon · 5 days
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7 minutes in heaven.
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pairing: fuck boy! sim jake x female! reader.
genre: smut.
warnings: virgin reader, fuck boy jake is actually a gentleman, kissing, fingering, insecurity, mentions of crying, slight corruption kink. english is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors.
words: 3.8K
note: i didn't plan for this to be so long wtf
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The not-so-little get-together at your best friend's house had become interesting when someone suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven. Everything was calm, several couples had entered and left the small closet, some only came out laughing after the exact 7 minutes that had to pass and others came out somewhat disheveled and with their clothes out of place after more than 7 minutes locked up, clearly showing what they had done and earning shouts and whistles from those outside waiting. Your world came crashing down when the bottle spun and pointed at you on one side and Sim Jaeyun on the other, the hot best friend of the guy your best friend was fooling around with. You all knew that he was a fuck boy, very experienced when it came to girls and casual encounters, every girl who had passed through his bed would speak highly of the boy.
And then there was you, one day everyone just started believing that you were some kind of fuck girl because of a stupid rumor that started spreading at school, but that created a certain reputation for you that you liked so you didn't try to deny it and things simply got out of hand and suddenly everyone said they had sex with you. You personally were not bothered by those rumors because you and your close friends knew perfectly everything about you. And the reality was different, you were a simple virgin terrified of the idea of ​​being intimate with some idiot like the ones your best friend always talked to you about.
"Nice!" the voice of one of the girls in the group sounded over the laughter. "Jaeyun and Y/n, who would have thought? But I don't think it's their first time-"
"Actually it is, but I don't deny having waited for this moment" Jaeyun's voice was a little mocking. You looked up from the bottle in the center of the floor and met his smirk. You fought hard with yourself not to act flustered and blush at the attractive boy. After all, you had a reputation to uphold.
"Well, this game is already boring" Yena spoke with a fake yawn. She of course knew your true personality and your shyness, and she knew that you wouldn't dare be confined in such a small space with the boy. She also didn't want anyone to pressure you into it, so she knew she had to intervene. "Let's better play-"
"Come on, don't ruin the mood like that" the previous girl's voice sounded again. "They also seem very enthusiastic."
"I'm more than ready." Jaeyun leaned back leaning on his hands, waiting for you to deign to speak to him. When you looked at him again, he had one of his eyebrows slightly raised waiting for an answer from you. "Unless she backs down. Are you scared, Y/n?" Silence reigned in the place and everyone turned their heads quickly towards you, waiting for one of your strong sarcastic responses.
"Scared of what? I don't think you have much there that I have to deal with" you looked away, mainly so he wouldn't notice the nervousness in your eyes.
"Do you want to find out?" His tone of voice was provocative, forcing you to return his gaze. Everyone was waiting for your answer and you couldn't give them anything other than what they expected.
"Should I?" you smiled slightly at him. The other teenagers who were already quite drunk made some noises and provocative comments. Jaeyun stood up from his place with a sideways smile on his face and relaxedly putting his hands in his pockets, he pointed at the closet with his head. You sighed and stood up, but the arm of your best friend next to you stopped you, almost making you fall.
“What the hell are you doing, Y/n?” his panicked voice whispered to you, rising above the noises of the crowd. “Are you sure what you're about to do?”
"Damn it, no" you denied several times, closing your eyes. "What did you want me to do? I'd look like a coward-"
"And what are you going to do when you gets in there? He won't-"
"Y/n?" the boy's voice called to you, he was standing by the door of the closet that was for the game, looking bored. "Do you think we have all night? Although, you know I wouldn't mind." He winked at you.
"Okay, wish me luck" you walked away from your best friend showing a false confidence and walked towards the closet, entering with the boy walking behind you. You heard the door close and the sound of voices and laughter suddenly died away.
The space was small, with luck a person would enter next to the shelves full of clothes that were stored. There were some decorations and old toys that used to belong to Yena and her sister. Above the highest shelves, small Christmas lights hung that illuminated little creating a comfortable place. When you turned in your spot, Jaeyun's body leaned over yours and quickly analyzing your expression, he approached and kissed you. Your back hit one of the shelves and Jaeyun cornered you with his body, placing both hands on the sides of your head. Your heart began to beat quickly when his perfume flooded your nose and his lips devoured yours, practically forcing you to follow him, which didn't bother you at all. His lips were soft and had the taste of the sweet drink that everyone had been sharing earlier. His hands went to your waist, hugging you and taking you off the shelves, pressing your body to his. You relaxed a little in his arms when you noticed that he was just kissing and hugging you, and things weren't going to escalate. Or so you thought at the moment. The boy separated from your lips and his hands gently went down the sides of your body, positioning themselves on your hips.
"Do you really want to find out?" he murmured against your red and swollen lips. You didn't know what to answer and your heart continued to beat rapidly while the boy was still attached to your body. "Are you speechless already?" he let out a laugh. Your trembling hands rested on his shoulders and you looked into his dark eyes, which went from your lips to your eyes with deep desire. You let your impulsive thoughts win and you desperately attached your lips to his again, wanting to feel them on you again. He smiled in the middle of that kiss and brought his hands to your butt firmly. You were wearing a short skirt so one of his hands decided to go down the side and gently caressed your thigh, causing your skin to crawl. His lips were still glued to yours while his tongue and yours intertwined with each other. Your hands squeezed his shoulders tightly as his hand slowly began to move up the inside of your thigh.
"Jaeyun-" you broke the kiss and still with your eyes closed you tilted your head back. The boy took advantage of that movement, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking gently and leaving a purple hickey. Nervousness took over your body and your heartbeat was erratic, you didn't know how to stop the situation that was beginning to get out of hand. You wanted to stop it because you didn't know how things would end, but you were embarrassed to separate him from you and that the boy would find out that you were nothing more than a stupid girl with a false personality. Your eyes filled with tears and a soft sob escaped your lips when his hand brushed your core over your underwear. He pulled away from your neck and looked at you ready to mock you when he heard you, but his expression disfigured when he noticed the nervousness in your body and your teary eyes.
"Y/n?" His hands gently grabbed your arms and he looked at you with concern. You shook your head and threw your head back, closing your eyes in shame. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" His voice was soft, completely different from that flirtatious tone he used to have whenever he talked to a girl.
"I'm a fake" you whimpered, embarrassed. "I can't do this, I'm not ready" you denied several times. His brow was furrowed while listening to you, but still his hands caressed your arms trying to calm you down.
"Are you-" He thought about his words for a moment, you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes nervously. Your eyes had an innocent gleam that said everything your mouth didn't. His gaze completely scanned your body, which moved uncomfortably in his hands and he separated himself as much as he could from you, although the space was very small. "You're virgin" he didn't ask you, he stated it. He noticed it in your look, he noticed it in your reactions to his touch and the way you had hesitantly reciprocated when he kissed you without warning.
"I'm a liar, but I can't do anything about it, everything got out of hand" you shrugged and looked down at your hands intertwined in front of your skirt. "And this image they have of me gives me a certain... confidence in myself. A confidence that I never had" Jaeyun remained silent as he listened to you and you were dying of anxiety for whatever was next, whatever he was about to say, what would happen when you both got out of there and if he would laugh at you in your face and then tell everyone in the house. You heard him laugh and a knot formed in your stomach, but you snapped your head up when he approached you again and stroked your hair kindly.
"You're so cute" he shook his head several times, not believing the current situation and continued caressing you, forcing you to raise your head. He looked at you tenderly, his eyes with a shine that you had not seen before. The colorful but dim Christmas lights above his head flickered and gave him barely any illumination. It was a beautiful sight in your eyes because the boy was extremely attractive. "You have nothing to worry about, darling and you have nothing to be ashamed of either."
"Yena told me the same thing, but I can't help it, I feel stupid and now that you found out, I feel even stupider" you honestly wanted the earth to open up and swallow you. You didn't know how things would continue from now on, you didn't know what you would do or say when you came out, or what he would say or do too. You were completely nervous and scared, you felt like your teenage life had ended right there.
"Look at me Y/n" he asked you, placing a hand on your jaw and gently lifting your head. You looked him in the eyes again and waited for him to speak. Jaeyun looked at you for a few seconds and then smiled at you. "You can leave and I will make up some story without going into details, anyway it is not difficult to create a scenario with the things I would do with you, you are the hottest girl I have ever seen in my life, although now I can only see your real side that is so innocent and pure." He laughed when, under the dim lights above you, noticed your cheeks turning red. "Or also, you can stay and we can do something about it, give you something to show off and meet the expectations of those waiting for us out there. Also give you a little experience, what do you think? You choose, pretty." His hand rested on your cheek this time and with his thumb he brushed your lower lip.
If your heart was already beating rapidly, it was now out of control. You felt that your legs were shaking and you would fall right there because of nerves. You wanted to stay there with him and see what happened, your curiosity was great but your insecurity was even greater, you were inexperienced in the whole realm of intimacy and he was so experienced that you were embarrassed to do something wrong, but you longed for him to continue kissing you and touching you like no one had ever done before. Neither of you knew how much time had passed since you had entered the closet, but no one had knocked on the door so you didn't worry and continued on your own world. Jaeyun of course noticed how your head was going a mile an hour and caressed your cheek.
"Don't be afraid, if you say yes, we won't do anything you don't want to do and I'll stop when you ask me to" he assured you. He was trying to convince you, but only because he could see in your eyes the desire to stay with him and your body clinging to his involuntarily told him what your mouth didn't. He noticed that you didn't know how to say yes. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, waiting for your positive response. If you hesitated too much, he would simply back away and let you go.
"Please" you didn't try to hide the desperation in your voice that revealed how you wanted to feel his lips on yours again and he smiled sideways, nodding. He leaned over you and joined your mouths together, the kiss was gentle at first, a soft touch of lips testing ground. He brushed the hair from your face and tilted his face to the side, deepening the kiss as your mouths opened slightly and both tongues rubbed against each other. Your hands moved to his shoulders, drawing him closer to you to feel him pressed against your body. His hand went down the side of your body and grabbed your thigh, lifting your leg and positioning one of his legs between yours and lightly rubbing your crotch. It didn't make you uncomfortable, rather it caused shivers to run through your body. Jaeyun could feel your heart pounding against your chest and that also made his heartbeat quicken as he separated from your lips.
"Can I touch you?" The question left his lips like a sigh and you just nodded. "Use your words, baby."
"Yes, touch me" your voice was muffled as you once again felt shame take over your body, but he gave you a short kiss on your lips and smiled tenderly at you. He didn't want to be too intrusive, so his hand slowly entered the bottom of your blouse and caressed your waist, going up with caution and aware of each of your reactions, and brushed the lower part of your breasts. You had skin bristling and your body cold with nerves contrasted against his warm touch as you clung to his shoulders with slightly trembling hands.
"Calm down" he murmured against your lips. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, no" you sighed and denied, convinced. He nodded again and cupped your breast in his hand, feeling your hard nipple underneath your bra. Your legs closed involuntarily and pressed his leg that kept them apart, he lowered his gaze and let out a mocking laugh.
"It seems like you want me to touch another part of you" his tone was mocking, but actually he was still analyzing each of your reactions and he didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed, he just wanted to play with you a little. "Do you want me to touch you there?"
"Yes, please" you responded quickly, your eyes squeezing shut to avoid his gaze. Your reactions drove him crazy, the way you moved desperately in your place and your cheeks were flushed waiting for his touch, how you asked please for everything.
"Just tell me if you want me to stop." he warned you. "Spread your legs a little, princess" you obeyed him and he undoubtedly brought his hand between your legs, caressing the inside of your thighs making you hold your breath as his hand began to go up to your crotch. "Breathe, baby" he giggled and you nodded too, laughing out of nerves. Jaeyun felt calm when he heard you laugh and regularize your breathing, noticing that you were nervous but comfortable with his touch, so with his fingers he touched your pussy over your soaked underwear. His eyes widened with some surprise and his breath caught in his throat. "Damn, why are you so wet?" he felt as if electricity ran through his body and was going to stop straight at his cock. He swallowed hard and focused on you.
"I-" a lump formed in your throat, you were so embarrassed you felt like you were going to cry and he noticed.
"Sh, don't worry" he assured you, with his free hand he caressed your face and kissed your cheek. "This is so hot. The way your body reacted to just a couple of my touches and how much you want me to touch you but your pretty little mouth doesn't dare say it" he left a peck on your lips. "But don't worry beautiful, I will become an expert in your body language." You felt like your heart was going to explode in your chest at his words, his voice and the way he said each sentence while his hand played with the elastic of your underwear. "Excuse me, I'm going to take this off" you nodded and he crouched down in front of you sliding your underwear down your legs, his fingers brushing your skin making it crawl. You didn't know where your underwear was after he stood up again and in front of you because your eyes were squeezed shut. "Open your eyes, Y/n" he asked, you took a deep breath and obeyed him. His eyes had a mischievous gleam as his lower lip was trapped between his teeth, looking at you with lust. He spread your thighs further, forcing you to open your legs a little more and his hand went to your crotch, sliding his fingers easily along the length of your pussy. You pressed your lips tightly, the shock your body gave from the wave of pleasure that grew in you as he caressed you. "It feels good?"
"Mhm" you nodded quickly and pressed your head against the shelves behind you, holding yourself tightly to his body.
"Don't hold back darling, I want to hear you" his fingers moved slowly but rhythmically in your core spreading all your fluids. "Let me hear how good you feel, don't worry about those outside, they must be drunk already and involved in another stupid game again to remember that we are here. Come on, moan for me." his fingertips probed your entrance and his middle finger slowly slid inside you. You couldn't stifle the moan that escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, you felt strange but it was a pleasant sensation. It's not like you haven't touched yourself before, but his hands and fingers were clearly bigger than yours so it felt different. His fingers moved slowly inside you and you squirmed in place, digging your nails into his shoulders, thankful that he had his shirt on so you wouldn't hurt him, although he wouldn't mind at all.
“Keep going, please” you begged. He slid another finger inside you and your walls clenched as his fingers curled inside you, touching a specific spot that made your body shiver. “It feels good, Jaeyun.” When his name left your lips he felt his cock jerk and he thrust his fingers in and out of you, taking a faster pace inside your tight walls. You continued moaning loudly and this time you looked into his eyes, your eyes had tears and he didn't know if they were from pleasure or pain, so he stopped his movements.
"Relax, pretty" he caressed your face again and again slowly, you nodded and sighed. You both stayed still for a moment, you breathing heavily and him spreading kisses across your face to calm you down.
"Keep going Jaeyun" he put his fingers in you again and this time with his thumb he reached your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your mouth opened and your legs trembled from the strong shock of pleasure that your entire body received. "Oh God-"
"Feels good? Do you like it?"
"Yes, yes. Please" your eyes almost rolled back and your hips moved involuntarily to the rhythm of his hand and he knew you were close to your orgasm. "Don't stop."
"Whatever you ask for, princess" he continued fucking you with his fingers and playing with your clit quickly while in contrast his other hand gently removed the fine hair that fell on your pretty blushing face. "Are you going to cum?"
"Yes!" you almost screamed in pleasure and his fingers tightened in you, your body felt the wave of pleasure explode inside you as your head spun, your legs weakened and Jaeyun wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you tightly as his hand on your pussy slowed down their movements once your body relaxed. Your head fell against his shoulder and he rubbed your back, hugging you to him. "That was incredible" your voice sounded exhausted and you felt his body shake as he laughed. "Thank you" you murmured, separating yourself from him and meeting his dark gaze. Your eyes widened in panic and you stifled a gasp when he brought his fingers glistening with your fluids to his lips and inserted them into his mouth, cleaning them completely with his tongue.
"So sweet" a half smile adorned his face as your cheeks turned even redder. You didn't know where you got the courage from, but you put a hand on the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his, surprising him and causing him to moan that ended up lost between both mouths, while you could faintly feel a hint of the taste of your fluids on his tongue. He separated from you before everything got out of control again and looked at you from head to toe, adjusting your clothes and your hair so you can come out decent.
"M-my underwear?" you asked shyly, feeling very obviously that something was missing under your skirt.
"Ah, no" he shook his head. "It doesn't belong to you anymore, darling." You blinked in shock and then let out a laugh. Your gaze moved down his body and you noticed the very noticeable bulge in his pants.
“Oh, you-” he followed your gaze."Should I-"
"No. Don't worry" he reassured you."The important thing here is that you enjoyed yourself."
"But- I really want to do something about it" you were still shy and he couldn't believe it since minutes before he had his fingers buried inside your pussy and you had ended up trembling in his arms. He also couldn't believe how before entering that closet you had that arrogant look and your head held high, showing yourself confident and having everyone at your feet only to turn out to be all just a facade that hid a shy Y/n completely terrified of everything. Jaeyun definitely wanted to keep seeing those innocent eyes filling with tears from the pleasure your body had never experienced.
"Next time we will do something about it, rest assured" he winked at you and took your hand, you just nodded and followed him when he opened the door and you both left the closet -who knows how long later- and were greeted with extremely out-of-character comments from your friends.
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I feel like this deserves a second part or I just feel like writing even more idk
send me request for zb1, enhypen and stray kids.
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ceilidho · 1 month
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 6) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
-
And they say if it sways, you have to cut it off at the root.
You repeat that to yourself when you catch the way you glance out the kitchen window again, surreptitiously watching John. It’s hard to pull your eyes away. He walks over to the well to fetch water for you to do the dishes, the chore you’d elected to take when he offered you the choice between that and feeding the horses. It’s a fair compromise since you balk at the thought of getting anywhere near either of those beasts. 
Watching him bend over the well to lower the bucket down, his muscled shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and suspenders drawing tight against his back, makes you bite your lip. Then scowl. Then pull the curtain shut to block out the view.
You have to cut any gentleness off at the root. 
When he comes back, you step to the side without a word to let him pour the water into the wash basin, hot water from the teakettle and lye soap making the water already in the pan sudsy. In a sense, it’s not any different from anything you’ve done back home; the same two pans for washing and scalding, the same cake of soap, and the same dish towel to dry the dishes off at the end. The only difference is the man that pours the cool water into the basin to make it more comfortable for your hands. 
“I’ll be out back,” he tells you, before grabbing you around the waist and pulling you in close to press a close-mouthed kiss to the side of your head. You only scrunch your nose a little. “When you’re done, come get me. Got business in town.”
“Why do you need me to come with you?” you ask, lips cresting into a pout without a thought. You’d never considered yourself a bellyacher, but it’s almost second nature around John. “I can…I can stay and clean the house.”
“You saying I keep a messy home?” John asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.
You look pointedly down at the dirt he tracked into the kitchen after fetching the bucket of water from the well. “It could do with a spit shine.” 
That gets a laugh out of him, a bellow from deep in his belly. It shakes you to your bones. 
“Darling, I’ll be honest with you,” he says, turning you to face him before folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t trust you not to bolt like a runaway horse, and you’ll only wind up putting yourself in danger if you try to make a run for it out here.”
That expression makes your stomach twist. “Good to know you think of your wife as some scared filly.” 
“You talk a whole lot for a woman who’s been over my knee. Do we need to repeat that?”
When his tone goes stern, you lose the wedging piece of candor keeping you upright. Eyes widen and then narrow. He’s been patient despite your loose tongue, but when that patience slips, you can see the steel underneath his gentle exterior. It’s the true root of him. 
You clam up under his stare, sullen and begrudging. Smooth your dress down to have something to do with your hands. You’ve forgotten your place again. Side-stepped it out of intimacy or misplaced trust or naivety or forgetting, again, for the umpteenth time, that the world is not a place for women that open their mouths. So you keep it shut, trap every festering word behind your teeth. 
He must not like something he sees painted on your face because his brows draw closer together, frustration brewing anew in his eyes. The longer you stay quiet, the more irritated he grows, his nostrils flaring wide. 
“See that you come get me as soon as everything’s squared away in here,” John bites out, pointing a single, blunt finger at you. “Else I’ll come get you myself.”
And we wouldn’t want that, you think, surly. You hope it swims across your eyes. Blooms on your face. Perhaps it does. 
The lines around his mouth and eyes grow more defined when he smiles. His whole mustache moves with his smile, every part of his face expressing his satisfaction. It’s beyond infuriating. He taps you on the nose with his knuckle before leaving out the backdoor, not sparing you a backward glance. You nearly shake with indignation. 
It’s hard not to watch him out in the paddock while drying the dishes though, not with him set against the gilded sun. You inch the curtain slightly open, just enough of a gap to peer through. The Stetson shadows his face when he tilts his head up towards the sky, the hard edge of his jaw the only thing that meets your gaze. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a man out in the fields or pastures, but most of those have been at a distance, removed. Glimpsed briefly through the window while your train barreled on past acres of farmland. 
John cycles through the morning tasks of guiding the horses into the paddock by a lead fixed to their halter, replenishing the food trough, and fetching more water from the well to fill the water trough. His horses are striking in the sheer size of them; muscled shoulders and legs, and well-padded flanks. Most of the horses you’ve seen out west haven’t seemed nearly as well-fed, many whittled down to rib and hip bone. 
It says something about him, but you’re not ready to confront exactly what. You turn your attention back to the dishes, scrubbing the last of the dried butter and eggs at the bottom of the pan. It takes a little extra grit, but cleaning is a familiar chore—it’s one you’ve done all your life, what got you into this mess in the first place. 
You don’t like what you find when you finally venture out of the house to track him down. 
“I’m not getting on that thing.” 
You put your veritable foot down with that, arms straight and stiff by your sides, more out of worry than annoyance. You do also give a little stomp for good measure, but you’ll chalk that up to reflexes should John inquire. 
He doesn’t. Just stares down at you with unimpressed green eyes that haunt your days and nights now. Tells you without telling you that you’ll get on that horse, willing or not. 
It’s not for a lack of beauty that you can’t quite shake the nervousness they elicit in you. Buttercup, the one that John saddled up and now waits patiently to be mounted, keeps her head low as if sensing your disquiet, curiosity glimmering in her coal black eyes. Not even the animal curiosity of is this a friend or foe, but the curiosity that comes with pure trust, almost intelligible that way. 
John runs his hand down her smooth, buttery flank. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s walk?”
“I didn’t hate it.” Truth be told, you’d hardly been of a mind to notice it at all. Though your legs still ache from the walk back to John’s house, the walk itself had not seemed especially grueling in the moment. The mind can put aside quite a bit when it has something else to focus on. 
“Well, I’m not too keen to repeat it.” He leaves it at that, tightening a strap on Buttercup’s saddle in such a purposeful way that your shoulders tense. 
“I could meet you there,” you say, a touch desperately. Your stomach turns when you think about hoisting yourself up onto Buttercup’s saddle. It doesn’t seem possible. It’s not something you’ve ever done or ever considered doing. You remember horror stories of stableboys back home trampled under their hooves and stomped to death, kicks so powerful that they could break a fully grown man’s ribs or cave in his face. 
“My wife isn’t gonna wander into town by her lonesome like some vagrant,” John says disdainfully, almost scoffing. Insulted by the whole idea. “And you’re sure as hell not staying here alone, darlin’.”
“Well, figure something else out because I am not getting up on that thin—” You cut off on a yelp when he circles around you and abruptly lifts you up. Your head rushes at the sudden motion, legs flailing beneath you. 
“Quit squirmin’ like a damn barn cat. Little hellion,” John grits out, guiding your heel into the stirrup. “C’mon, you’re just side saddling, so you only need your butt on the saddle.” When he sets you down lightly onto the saddle, you stop wiggling around, acutely aware of the thousand pound horse beneath you. “There we go—that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” 
“I hate this,” you hiss, fingers clamped tight over the pommel. 
“Aw, darlin’, don’t go insulting Buttercup like that,” John chuckles, replacing your foot in the stirrup with his own.
You sit there stiff as a board, perched precariously on the saddle as he hoists himself up behind you. His sheer proximity doesn’t register right away. You’re too concerned with the moving beast under you, its ribs expanding and contracting with each breath. Unlike you, John is more than comfortable sitting astride the horse, not a smidgeon of tension in his body. You suck in a horrified breath when you feel him readjust himself before settling down more comfortably. 
He reaches around you to grab the reins, a sharp whistle signaling the horse to take her first stride forward, looping around the side of the house. Even the slow trot threatens to buck you off at first. You lurch forward with each step, certain that you’ll slip right off the saddle and onto the dusty ground below until John loops an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest.
You grow stiffer in his arms somehow. Despite sleeping in the same bed the night before and sharing far too many kisses for your comfort or virtue, being pressed up tight against a man never gets easier. Perhaps if you’d been married for longer than a single day you’d be more at ease with the notion, but as of yet, it comes as a shock to the senses every time. 
You carefully avoid the thought that other married women wouldn’t be still in possession of their maidenhead so many hours after their wedding night. That’s none of your business.
The two of you navigate into town at a slow canter, allowing you to gradually acclimatize to the gait of a horse. Part of you remembers riding horses when you were younger, but that was a lifetime ago, long enough to shake the memory from your muscles. These days, you can barely remember the hands holding you steady, the ones that would’ve lifted you up onto the horse and helped you back down. Those people are faceless in your memories. 
John stays silent at your back, only tightening his hand around your hip when you slip the slightest bit when Buttercup picks up the pace, heading towards the familiar sight of the sheriff’s office. It draws a quick squawk out of you, neatly masked by a fake cough. His chuckle at that rumbles through you, clearly not buying it. Another lesson in humiliation. 
You manage not to flail as much when he gets off the horse and helps you down, even though you’re still not used to being manhandled so, particularly not in front of the townsfolk milling about and glancing over with undisguised interest. 
“Are you working today?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you while John ties Buttercup’s lead to the post outside the sheriff’s office. 
“Don’t exactly get many days off when you’re the only sheriff in the county,” John replies. “We’ve got a few deputies in every town, and a couple here, but it ain’t an easy gig.”
“How many deputies have you got here?” 
“Just the three. Simon, John, and Kyle. You met Simon the other day.” 
His name draws up the faint memory of the masked deputy from your wedding ceremony. “I remember,” you say flatly. There’s no lost love between you and anyone involved with that sham of a wedding. 
“Don’t hold that against him,” John smiles. “He’s a good ole boy. Can’t fault a man for following the boss’ orders.”
Watch me. You glance away lest he see that thought etched across your face. 
The town is bustling with activity this late in the morning. Steps and floorboards creak under the weight of boots coming and going. A man going by in a horse-and-buggy whistles sharply when he cracks the reins, his horse puffing out a low, frustrated grunt. 
Men hustle past you decked out in leather chaps and waistcoats, spats covering the half-boots of those not decked out in tall, spurred cowboy boots. There are far less women scampering about town than men, particularly not so close to the sheriff’s office, but you keep finding your eyes drawn to them. 
John grips you under the arm and swiftly pulls you back when you narrowly sidestep a mound of horse droppings left uncovered in the middle of the road. The smell only hits you a second later. 
“Well, that’s lovely,” you remark, deadpanned, putting your foot down deliberately a good distance away. 
“Wouldn’t need to complain about it if you just watched your step.”
“You know, this really would’ve been a nice day to just stay home,” you mutter, chastised enough not to say something sharp in return. 
While the smell makes your nose wrinkle, you have to admit that the air here is far less pungent than back home. In general, this bucolic town is far more pleasant in certain respects than the city you’d left behind in a haste. 
“Where do you want me to wait for you?” you ask, turning to face him now at the front steps of the sheriff’s office.
He frowns. “Wait for me?”
“While you work, I mean. Surely you don’t mean for me to sit inside all day twiddling my thumbs while you work.”
His mustache twitches with a smile. “Thought I’d show you around first—get you acquainted with the locals.”
The idea of mingling with the townsfolk doesn’t appeal to you, but you also can’t think of a good enough reason to refuse. Especially with the curious glances already being sent your way. You duck your head to stare down at your boots when you spot a group of other women clustered together and whispering to each other, their eyes trained on you. Somehow you’ve gone from being furniture in a room to being a source of local gossip, and it’s almost hard to believe that you miss being ignored. 
When you look back up at John, you find him still staring down at you, waiting patiently. Up close, the sunlight almost turns patches of his beard gold; he has a smattering of moles across his face, not the blush of freckles but rather a few dark spots by his nose. Aside from the tuft of hair under his bottom lip, his chin is mostly bare, and when he smiles, his whole face moves with it. You have to blink to snap yourself out of it. 
Your upper lip curls involuntarily when you say, “So you want to help me make friends?” 
“Well, seeing as I know most of ‘em, figured I’d be a help.”
“The job’s really not all that busy then, huh?” You really wish you could learn to shut your mouth, since it keeps getting you in trouble, but the barbs roll off your tongue so naturally. Luckily, it seems to amuse him now more than it did early this morning. 
“Guess life isn’t as exciting ‘round here as it is back in the city, but it has its days,” John chuckles. “Now come on; I’ll give you the tour.”
For some reason, you hadn’t pictured the town being quite so big, but during your walk, you realize you’ve vastly underestimated the true size of it. Though not anywhere near as ostentatious as the cities back east, the sheer breadth of it eclipses anything from back home. It’s spread out on an incomparable scale, the mountains in the background stretching out along the horizon like the skeletal remains of a giant long since dead and decayed.  
It’s not the ramshackle town you envisioned when you stepped off the train the other day, despite the wooden facades and their brightly painted signs. You almost wish you had more time just to admire the craftsmanship, but John leads you from store to store like he’s on a mission.
He seems most interested in towing you around like some prized mare, all trussed up and clean from your bath the night before. You meet so many people that their names and faces all begin to blur together. The worst offense of all is that it makes you lean on John for support, looking up at him again and again for reassurance whenever you can’t answer a question or your answer triggers a moment of awkward silence. 
Those moments come aplenty too. The few people nosey enough to ask you about your life back in the city find themselves on the butt end of a cheerfully delivered lie from John. It unnerves you at first, seeing how comfortable he is with lying. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second when recounting your previous life as a schoolteacher in Connecticut prior to your engagement.
Perhaps it’s not a lie though. You don’t know the extent to which he and his original betrothed corresponded. Certainly not enough for him to suspect you of not being her, but maybe she’d spun him that story. Or maybe it had been the truth. All this time you’d thought that John had been swindled by some con artist using desperate men to fund her lifestyle, but maybe somewhere between here and Connecticut, there’s an unmarked grave with the corpse of the woman that John had intended to marry. 
That makes you feel guilty somehow, like you’ve taken something not meant for you. Even if you hadn’t wanted it—in fact, been forced into taking it. 
You swallow that thought when John leads you into the general store. Your eyes bug at the sight of a blonde haired woman in khaki cloth knickerbockers stocking the shelves, who turns at the sound of the door creaking open, the sharp look on her face melting away at the sight of John.
The warmth in her face infuriates you more than it should. You have no right to feel this way—or, some right, but you resent the fact that you do as well. 
“Hi John,” she greets. Her voice is deeper than you anticipated, springtime crisp like a babbling brook. 
“Laswell,” John greets, scooping his arm around your side until he can palm the side of your hip, dragging you in close. You stumble into him, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. Your neck and face go hot when Laswell’s eyes turn on you, curiosity glinting in them. 
“Your lady finally showed up then,” she surmises. “I’ll be honest, I was starting to think you made her up. Told the boys to think about forcing you into an early retirement.”
John huffs at that. His fingers tighten at your waist when Laswell says your lady, as if the words alone make it fact. Speak it into being. The metal burns against your ring finger. In a sense, it is fact, despite the subterfuge. You wonder if it would hold up in court, but out here, it’s real enough. 
“Well, she’s very real, as you can tell.” He gives you a little shake with the hand on your waist. “Say hi, darlin’.”
If looks could kill, yours would be pit-viper venom. You’d leave behind a festering puncture mark and a body in the throes of envenomation. “Excuse me?”
Your attitude might come at a cost this time because he looks unamused at your back talk in front of an audience. “Darlin’.” It’s said like a warning. 
You bite your tongue instead of lashing out. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Kate Laswell; I own this little shop,” she says, introducing herself and stepping forward to hold out her hand. You have to step forward to take it, pulling you out of John’s arms. It feels familiar being on your own, certainly more natural than being constantly at John’s side the way you have for almost two days now. It’s also a bit cold after having John’s warmth at your back or side at all times. 
There’s a moment when you realize that Kate is the first person you’ve had to introduce yourself to, John having introduced you to everyone else you’d come across. It hovers on the tip of your tongue when you realize that you could just say your real name, and you find yourself torn between setting it free and the odd fear of John’s reaction. 
You chicken out at the last second, giving Kate the same name as the one John introduced you by to everyone else in town. 
“He might growl like a bear, but you’ll get used to that,” she says, winking.
You frown. Awfully familiar talk for someone who isn’t his wife. Why should she know that? 
You make yourself push that thought away, reminding yourself again that it doesn’t matter. It’s none of your concern. 
“He’s been a gentleman,” you croak instead, smile so thin that it might as well be a grimace. 
A shout from the bar across the street startles you, drawing your attention away from the conversation. John stills too. A series of raised voices puts him on alert, and then someone inside the bar must fire a gun because the violent crack of one makes you scream, the noise pulled involuntarily from your chest. 
“Stay here,” John growls, his pistol already drawn. He’s out the door before you can respond, darting across the street towards the bar and shouldering the door open so hard that it rattles in its frame. You watch everything happen through the window of the general store with your heart in your throat. 
“Good Lord,” you whisper, hand over your mouth. Kate stands beside you in a similar manner, her eyebrows pinched in concern. 
The thought doesn’t even occur to you that now would be the perfect time to make a break for it, with John busy across the street. Your feet are rooted in place; you doubt you’d be able to take so much as a single step towards the door. 
There’s precious little that you can see through the grit-lined bar windows, not as dusty and dirty as they are, but you can hear the commotion from inside. Raised voices and the sound of breaking glass. It makes you flinch, heart galloping at an even faster pace. Like harness horses on the Freehold Raceway. It’s not long before you see a large, masked man hightailing it down the road towards the bar, dust clouding around his boots with each heavy step. 
You recognize him almost instantly as the man from your wedding, the one that signed your marriage license. John’s man—Simon. He nearly takes the bar door off its hinges when he throws it open, barely in there a second before he and John come out each with a man in hand, both already handcuffed and looking roughed up They drag them stumbling down the dirt road towards the sheriff’s office, Simon half-dragging another man whose white button-down is slowly saturating with red blood oozing out of a gunshot wound in his belly.
“Shouldn’t they call a doctor for that man?” you ask Kate in a frantic voice, whipping around to face her. 
She nods. “They probably will once they’ve got the four of them locked up. Doctor probably heard that anyway—he’ll be on his way, I bet.”
“On his way already?”
“There’s only one doctor around here. And not much else sounds like a gunshot.”
“Does that happen a lot around here?” You don’t know why the thought makes you nervous, but there’s a cramp in your belly and a sweat building up on the back of your neck and your hands itch to grab something. When you swallow, it almost doesn’t go down. 
“It’s not uncommon. I reckon it’s not something you’re used to?”
You purse your lips. “I’ve seen a dead body before.” You don’t know why that comes out so defensively, like a slight that’s been levied against you. There’s no easy way to dispel the myth in everyone’s mind that you come from a life of comfort and ease, with delicate hands fit for delicate work. You curl your hands into fists at the thought, conscious of the old scars and calluses built up over years of scrubbing and cleaning. If she were to look down, she wouldn’t see the well-kept hands of a lady. 
When Kate quirks an eyebrow, you realize that your response had nothing to do with her question. “Well, look at you.”
When John and Simon disappear into the jailhouse, the door swinging shut behind them, you sway on your feet for a second, feeling oddly unbalanced. Something about the sight of the man’s blood leaves you feeling woozy, taking the chair that Kate offers you when she sees the way you rock back on your heels. 
“Let me get you something to drink,” Kate offers, brows now furrowed sympathetically at the pathetic sight you must be. “I’m sure you got a little fright thinking of your husband facing down a man with a gun, but I’m afraid that comes with marrying a sheriff. There’s danger everywhere, you know.”
What you don’t say is that your lightheadedness came not just from the sight of the man with the blood leaking from a wound in his stomach, but the grim look on your husband’s face as he carted away the man responsible, eyes hard as steel. No sympathy for the man in his hands. Only another criminal to be tossed away in a jail cell. The punishment for making another man bleed.
Your hands shake in your lap, but you don’t say that. Instead, you smile weakly and take the glass of water from her hands when she comes back from filling it at the sink. “You’re right. Just a little fright.”
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joelsgreys · 27 days
Text
fall into temptation | three
Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter
summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 10k
a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.
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Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”
“What’s she doing holding his hand?”
“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”
Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.
His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 
Solid. Steady.
Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?
Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.
It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 
His youngest daughter. 
Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.
“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”
“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”
“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”
“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”
Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.
Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.
Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.
“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”
“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”
Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.
“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”
It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.
The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.
Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”
Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”
Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.
“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”
Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.
If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.
Not after Joel Miller was through with him.
Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.
Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?
“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”
Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”
“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”
Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”
You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.
“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”
Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 
Watching. Observing. Waiting.
He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.
“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.
He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”
Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 
It caused something inside of you to finally give way.
Snap.
The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”
For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.
“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”
It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.
It was your father.
Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.
Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.
Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.
“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”
Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”
That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”
“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.
Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.
“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”
Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.
“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”
Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”
His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.
“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”
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The first thing he did was light the fireplace.
“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”
“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.
Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”
“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”
“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”
Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.
“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”
You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”
“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”
“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”
Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”
His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”
“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.
Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”
Of course not.
You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 
Still. 
The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.
Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.
Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.
No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.
He wouldn’t believe them.
“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”
Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”
The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 
There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”
No. That’s not what you wanted.
You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 
But that freedom came with a high, high price.
You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?
“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.
“What?”
“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”
Confused, all you could do was stare at him.
“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”
Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.
“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”
“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”
His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”
“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.
He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”
Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”
“What is it, darlin’ girl?”
“Kiss me. Please.”
With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.
You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.
“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”
“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”
“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”
You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”
“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”
His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.
“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”
Christ.
No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.
With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.
“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.
Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”
Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”
All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.
With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.
Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”
Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”
His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.
Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.
With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.
Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.
You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.
Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.
“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.
Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.
“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.
“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.
“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.
“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”
Yours.
Yours, yours, yours.
Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”
“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”
“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”
Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.
Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”
You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.
“Yeah? Y’trust me?”
Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”
Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”
Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 
He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”
With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.
“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.
You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.
Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.
“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”
Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”
Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.
“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”
You whimpered. “Yes.”
“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”
Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”
“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.
Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.
Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.
You opened wider. “Please.”
“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.
“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”
Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.
Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?
“Oh God.”
You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.
Not when something this sinful was being done to you.
Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.
“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”
Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.
Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.
Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.
Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 
Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.
Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”
Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”
He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.
If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.
The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.
Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got you,” he promised.
You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”
Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.
“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.
He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.
Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”
Surely, you would be the death of him.
He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?
There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”
And you did.
Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.
“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.
“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”
You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.
Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”
With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”
“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.
It was the second time you’d uttered His name.
Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.
“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.
He was getting closer and closer.
Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.
“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”
No way he could live his life without you now.
He needed you.
He needed you so much more than you needed him.
Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.
“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.
His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”
Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.
He was begging you.
Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?
“Joel,” you choked.
“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”
Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”
A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  
Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.
“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”
He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”
Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.
Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”
Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.
Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Mean what, Joel?”
There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”
Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”
“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.
“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”
“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”
“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”
You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.
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The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.
Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.
The nerves began to set in.
Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.
With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.
He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.
You could have laughed. You almost did.
“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”
“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”
“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.
His chest swelled with warmth.
Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.
He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”
“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”
He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.
“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”
He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.
He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”
Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.
I’ve got you.
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divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍
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hon3y-y · 3 months
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your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺
Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫
Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean
Enjoy<3
After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.
He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.
Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.
You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"
You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.
You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"
You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.
You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”
It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”
He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.
You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”
He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.
Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.
It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3
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A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋
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writing-fanics · 3 months
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don’t mess with the devil
final chapter: I love you
Lucifer Morning X Human!Reader
Previous parts
The king sized mattress, seemed too big even for the King of Hell. He finally found someone to fill that empty space beside him, You. But now you were gone back home in the living world. Where you belonged. He hugged the stuffed, animal bringing it close to his chest. It lets out a little squeak.
It still smelled like you. Hells, he missed you so much it hurts. Your laughter, your voice, everything. He missed your sighs, when he would kiss your neck. He missed how you would tease him, and take his hat wearing it for a bit. You were a piece of Heaven in Hell, he never wanted to lose.
He remembered when you had gotten sick. You were sneezing and coughing, and wash hot. Your cheeks were flushed, and your voice hoarse. He never left your side, and only did to bring you the essentials. Soup. You got it. Water. No problem. Tea. Here you go my love.
He was at your beck and call, and you loved that about him. He would, kiss your forehead and rub your back. He’d figure out a way to get you ice. If you really needed it he would pay one of the, I.M.P’s to get you medicine in the living world. Demon medicine could and might possibly kill you.
Even though he thought TV, scrambled the brain he had to admit. Laying in bed with you watching, some shows was quite fun. Watching Disney movies and non Disney.
Hells. Tears trickled down his cheeks he missed you. You’ve only been dating for almost a year, and he already saw a future with you. Maybe even some kids if possible.
He wanted to-
“Oomph.”
A body landed on top of him, “Hi,” his heart seemed to stop beating, and he looked up from the stuffed animal. And there you were in all your beauty, looking down at him as if you were some angel.
You smiled, tears trickling down your cheeks. Finally, after so much trial and error you managed to make a portal to Hell. Leaving behind, a goodbye letter to your mother. Letting her know you’ll be okay. While also leaving behind a Hellphone, so she could communicate with you while you were in hell.
He thought that this might be some trick, some illusion trick by that red radio freak. He reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch. “I’ve missed you,” you said, placing your hand over his. He cupped your face in his hands so quickly, you didn’t have time to react crashing his lips on yours.
You gasped, before wrapping your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. “H-How did you?” You kept cutting him off with kisses, “Book of Magic,” you smiled, kissing him again. “And a little help from the magic you gave me.” You said, between each kiss your back being pressed against the mattress.
You smiled placing our hand on his cheek, “I knew not all of it returned,” He said, and you leaned up giving him a peck on the lips.
“I love you.” You finally said, and he smiled. Kissing you passionately, a sigh escaping your lips as he kissed your neck. “I love you too,” he said, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.
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sweetyluvs · 4 months
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ahhh eeee aanggg imagine abby sliding her big hands down ur curves and whispering naughty things in your ear at an inappropriate time🫀🫀
oh geez you guyssss 🫦😫😫 i have writers block so bare w me 🙏🙏🙏
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you and abby were currently at a friends get-together at Dina and Ellie’s house. It had been a while since all 5 have been together hanging out (including jesse, who, shockingly, brought a plus 1..) so you decided to dress rather nice. a tight, long silk dress draped over your body, enhancing every curve and crevices for everyone to see. Especially abby.
You hadn’t exactly thought about what her thoughts might be about it since you were only thinking about being with your friends— but, your mindset began to change while you grabbed another drink in the kitchen.
You hummed, the alcohol beginning to make you a little tipsy, running its course through your veins. You heard Abby’s all too familiar Tabacco leather cadet shoes hit the ground as softly as usual, she carries her form so nicely. You smiled although you couldn’t see her, and she smiled at you when you turned on your heel. in your pre-alcoholic state, you’d missed how her blue eyes raked your body hungrily. walking past her, you placed a kiss to her cheek and made your way out of the kitchen with two beers in each of your hands. Abby smirked upon the thought that lit up her mind, cracking her knuckles as she followed you.
You weren’t the only intoxicated one- Ellie was barley breathing on the couch- her joint about to slip from her fingers and burn the place down, jesse and his new girlfriend were being so touchy even abby felt strange about it, and dina was laughing and dancing to the music playing. You’d grabbed 4 beers for you and dina, dancing and laughing with her. Abby took in everyone’s state and decided to let her body take over. Abby’s big form approached you as you bent down, placing the beers on Dina’s glass living room table, alongside other substances. You gasped when you felt abby’s strap against your ass when she pressed herself against you, surprise filling your mind that she would wear that to a friends house. you rose up, abby taking this opportunity to place her big hands on your waist, sliding them down to your hips and ass, grabbing the soft fat there and giving it a little squeeze. At this point, your laughing, carefree demeanor had vanished and all you wanted was to be bent over and fucked by your girlfriend. You sent her a bashful glance from over your shoulder, caching onto her games and trying to ignore them for the sake of everyone else while being oddly flustered; blaming the alcohol. Abby had noticed, not liking your idea of ignoring her advances but finding you cute when you are shy. She bend her head down, crooking her face so her lips were barely touching your ear as she began to whisper in your ear.
“why so shy?” her hot breath fanned your neck, inching you to hold had a pathetic moan you were about to make. “oh, c’mon, babe.” she laughed, her hands sliding more downward, towards your pushed together thighs. You sighed when her hand slipped past the tender spot of the bite she had left there the previous night. “you know you want to,” she continued, smiling against you. “you want me to touch you, hm?” you tried to focus on anything but her, “yeah? you want me.” she let out a deep chuckle, warm breath once more fanning your neck, goosebumps replying to the sensation. the pathetic whimper you let out had abbys already high ego boosting out of its mind, her hands quickly sliding to your hips and grabbing harshly before speaking up. “we’re gonna head out, have fun guys.” she said loudly, taking your hand in hers as dina yelled a sad goodbye, making her way to her stoned girlfriend.
once you both made it outside, you spoke up. “abby! you couldn’t wait a few more hours? i haven’t seen them in so long!” you whined, frowning at her smirk as she opened the car door. “sorry babe, but my dick needs some serious relief,” she said, pushing you inside the car and smashing her lips onto yours, grinning against your surprised moan. she closed the door, unbuckling her jeans. “i can’t wait to fuck you.”
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total-dxmure · 3 months
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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE
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pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader
summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?
warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: here we are, the meat and potatoes. the fic is really kicking off. . . and they're already flirting?! ellie is so touch and affection starved that she nearly jumps out of her own skin every time you even look at her.)
⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
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In that halfway space between waking and sleep it was hard to discern what was real and what wasn’t. Your bed felt warm, sheets still tangled around your arms and legs. The weight of your blanket on your chest could easily be confused with another’s body, and so you felt yourself smile. Warm, happy, safe- 
Abby was behind you, her limbs expertly twisted around yours like she’d done it a thousand times before. . . and she had. 
Slowly you opened your eyes, staring blankly ahead of you into your pitch black bathroom. You recognized the fresh scent of your shampoo, and felt the way your hair still clung to your hot cheeks- wet from your shower the night before. It was like you were suspended in a memory, everything all soft and fuzzy around you. The dots weren’t perfectly connecting, and still you were happy. For a second you just laid there, unable to look down at the hand you could feel so vividly at your waist. Would you see Abby’s knuckles when you looked down? Would you see the rubber promise ring she had insisted on wearing? Everything always had to be even and fair with her. 
This morning felt familiar. Like you’d lived it before. Your breath left you in a rush when the bed creaked behind you. 
“Abby,” God, she was back. She was back and she was right behind you. “Baby?” 
There was a soft groan and then the arm tightened, bringing you into a warm chest. Her bicep squeezed your arm tightly against her shoulder, and all at once you were tucked in so tight. Confusion tugged at your features, and you mulled over exactly why you were clinging to her arm so tightly. 
“What’s wrong?” She whispered against your hair, her voice still thick with sleep. Still, her fingers stroked at your bare stomach. 
“I had a nightmare,” You mumbled, trying to recall exactly what had plagued you just seconds ago. You can’t remember now that you’re safe here. . . safe with Abby again. “You were gone and I was all alone.” 
Those moments came back to you in flashes. The ache, the constant pain of losing her, the “learning to live without her” that crushed you entirely. You turned around in her grasp, nuzzling your nose into the crook of her neck. You took deep inhales, trying to still your rising panic. You could feel the steady beating of her heart against your cheek, the warmth of her bare breasts against your collar bones. 
“I was gone?” She raised a hand, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a few golden strands falling onto her forehead as she moved her head against the pillow beneath her. “You can tell me about it if you want.” She offered supportively, petting your back in slow circles. 
You don’t know why. . .  but you missed those circles. It felt like you’d been without them for weeks. Months. 
“I-I got a phone call. . . and they told me that you’d died,” Your bottom lip quivered, your eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t help but laugh pathetically at your unnecessary hysterics. Abby was right here. Everything was okay. “It felt like the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. It was horrible.” 
“You did so good though.” She whispered, her hands still stroking. 
Your muscles tensed, and slowly you moved your hand up her side, fingers brushing against her skin. You pressed a soft kiss against the underside of her breast, a tear breaking free past your lower lashes. This moment suddenly felt fleeting. 
“I did?” You questioned, pulling away to look at her. 
She was so beautiful. Like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right in your bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, setting the line of trees just outside of your window ablaze. She was diaphanous and golden laying there beneath you. You were so lucky. You could barely breathe when she looked up at you like that, her eyes so thick with pride and love. 
“You did, baby girl. You stayed so strong.” She cracked a small smile, but it looked pained. Like she was also realizing that the two of you couldn’t exist here forever. “I need you to keep it up though, alright?” You couldn’t feel her hand on your back anymore, nor the softness of the sheets. 
“Please,” You sobbed out, reaching out to cup her cheek. She didn’t feel like anything. Like your hand was molded around a pocket of open space. Nothingness. She was about the size of the palm of your hand now, her urn sitting on the mantle in your living room. “Please don’t leave me again.” 
Her blue eyes stared up at you, proud and unwavering in their convictions, as they always were. . . always had been. “I’m never far. Pinky.” Promise. 
And then you were in your bed again, the alarm on your phone blaring. 
“Abby?” You mumbled, and you didn’t have to turn over to realize you were alone. 
Ellie was good at putting pressure on herself. It had always been a form of motivation, as cruel as it seemed. She couldn’t let today be awful. No episodes or meltdowns and no long bouts of silence. You were pretty and it really seemed like you could use a friend. 
Ellie could use a friend too. 
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown interest in a girl. She’d always been career driven with a one track mind. She was good at overworking herself and running herself dry. She hoped that you’d be able to use that to your benefit today. Ellie wanted to lose herself in something. . . in someone. She wanted to be useful for the first time in what felt like a long, long while.
So she woke up at the butt crack of dawn and took a shower. She kept her eyes shut tight as she washed herself and didn’t even bother to towel dry her hair before she was pulling on an outfit. Thick droplets of water stained the shoulders of her jean button up as she tied up the laces on her boots. She focused on one shoe at a time, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Every once and a while her brain would wander, hellbent on self destruction, but with a small groan she’d remember the sadness in your eyes. 
She’d remember who she was before the accident. 
She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, praying that Joel’s dog wouldn’t start barking once he realized that his new best friend was leaving the house. The keys to her old car were on the rack beside the front door, right next to Joel’s flashy new pair. He’d told Ellie over dinner that he’d been maintaining the beat up old Jeep the best that he could, meaning she at least had a little bit of freedom while she was back home. 
She locked the door behind her, the cool morning breeze stinging against her wet ears as she gracelessly stumbled down the stairs, juggling the bulky set of keys in her hand. A huge metal spaceship that Joel had stuffed into her Christmas stocking senior year, a neon green carabiner she’d bought at one of the gas stations closest to her school, and a few other childish charms that she couldn’t place any meaning behind swung from the nearly ancient keychain. Her sense of self expression and style back in those days was tacky to say the least, but she appreciated child-Ellie nonetheless. 
“You poor child.” She teased under her breath, climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the key into the ignition. She sucked in a breath and held it before cranking it up. 
To her surprise, the clunker started right up, though the engine shook the steering wheel a little when she put the thing in reverse down the driveway. She hadn’t driven a car since that night at the gas station. It felt a little weird to be behind the wheel, but even stranger to be back here. Jackson was a beautiful place. . . but it didn’t feel the same way that it had before. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her age or the changes that were happening inside of her. The streets still looked the same, aside from some very minor changes to neighbor's houses. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings when Joel had driven her through town yesterday, and she was a bit scared to see the differences. She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts or do any soul searching, so she reached out for the radio, pressing play on whatever CD had been shoved into it last. 
Depeche mode began to blast over the speakers, and she let out a small sigh of relief. At least her music taste wasn’t horrible in high school. 
But it was no wonder she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ellie wouldn’t have dated little Ellie either, that was for sure. 
She felt a bit crazy to be driving in the opposite direction of town. Back when she lived here, town was the only place she was headed when she was allowed out of the house. It was no wonder why the two of you had never really crossed paths. She used to complain about how far off in the “middle of nowhere” Joel lived, but your farm had his ranch beat by fifteen minutes. The houses got fewer and farther in between, and despite how much Ellie truly did enjoy the city, she couldn’t deny how beautiful the countryside was. The sprawling fields, grazing animals, and splattering of wild flowers had her rolling down the windows of her car, ignoring the chill so that she could get a better look of her surroundings. 
Even the air quality was better in Jackson.
She’d been down this road a few times in her life, having been in the backseat of Joel’s car every single time. She recognized your home from her memories, but your last name didn’t mean much to her back then. She slowed her car down to a crawl, staring at the large sign that sported your family name proudly. 
Ellie would be proud of the farm too if it were hers. She bumped down the drive five minutes earlier than you had told her to show up, staring with wide eyes at your house. It was two stories with a balcony- white with green shutters. The wrap around porch was screened in, protecting you and any guests you might have over from bugs that thrive in the summertime heat. 
Your stretch of land belonged on a painting, and for a second she worried if maybe she wasn’t the right friend for you. This house was too nice and Ellie. . . Ellie wasn’t very nice at all. She'd only talked to you for five minutes yesterday, but she got the feeling that you were a "good girl". You were wholesome, which wasn't how anyone in Ellie's life would choose to describe her. She slowly made her way up your front steps, and for a second she wondered if she should leave. It would probably be better if she did. Ellie could always just lie and tell Joel that she couldn’t find your house. . . he’d probably drop it after insulting her about her bad sense of direction. 
Ellie couldn’t afford to get a crush on anyone right now either. It was horrible timing, and what would be worse is if you actually ever returned those feelings. How was she supposed to explain to you that she wouldn’t ever make a good partner? She couldn’t protect you from anything, not when any loud sounds or bright lights had her falling to her knees. She was careerless, depressed to the point where she had completely lost who she was, had a drinking problem, and was quite certain that she’d combust the second you’d touch her. She was touch and attention starved, but hadn’t remembered that she was even able to desire someone until she’d seen you yesterday- 
You’d be dodging a bullet if she hightailed it right off of your property. So she turned on her heel and stared at her boots as she began walking back down your stairs. Her feet kicked up dirt as she made her way back to her jeep, hand already reaching into her pocket for her keys- 
“Did I not hear you knocking on the door?” A feminine voice called out to her. 
She sucked in a breath so hard that she let out a loud cough, eyes widening as she turned around to face the porch. You were wearing a pair of dirt stained jeans today, though your hair was fastened back with a white bow. Ellie, despite her previous need to protect you from herself, couldn’t fight off the urge to get closer. There was something different about you today. You were a bit manic, your hands already busying themselves with straightening out a few of the potted plants on your porch. You seemed a bit anxious, but you didn’t comment on it so neither did Ellie. Any boundaries you had yesterday with her were gone. You flashed her a wide smile, sauntering up the drive so that you could wrap her up in a tight hug. 
Your arms were shaking as they weaved around her neck, pulling her in close. She froze, limbs locking up in surprise as she tried to fully grasp what was going on. You were treating her like an old friend, someone you were excited to see. Ellie didn’t know why you’d be so happy to see her. . . but then again, she was happy to see you. She remembered what Joel had said last night.
Maybe you were sick and tired of being alone. 
Your bare arms were cold too- freezing as her fingers accidentally brushed the backs of them. Ellie realized that she had gotten here just in time. If anything, she cursed herself for not showing up twenty minutes earlier, if only to save you from whatever had you this shaken up. 
“I probably knocked too quietly. Should have knocked louder, huh?” She mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave you a gentle squeeze. 
She wasn’t used to holding someone like this that wasn’t Dina or Jesse. You felt nice in her arms. Your muscles weren’t hard or rigid like hers, you were all soft and rounded edges. Gentle curves and arms ready and willing to embrace her. Flushed cheeks and silk bows. You smelled wonderful too- sweet and floral, like Jasmine mixed with honey. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t seem ready to end the hug either.
You were still quivering. 
“Yeah, you should have.” You agreed, giving Ellie one last squeeze before taking a few unsteady steps back.
You hadn’t been completely sure whether or not she would show up today. Waking up this early was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone you had just met yesterday. Still, a part of you had hoped that she would be here. On days that were this bad you found it impossible to work, no matter how busy it kept you. You often spent “mental health days”  laid out by Abby’s grave or buried six feet under pillows and blankets in what used to be your shared bed.
Ellie’s presence changed things. 
So you squared off your shoulders and cracked her a wide smile, praying that it looked genuine and not forced. 
“Let’s hop in my truck and I’ll take you on a little tour of the property before we get started.” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the woman take a few steps closer to you.
Ellie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. You weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to handle her prying or the pity that would follow. 
Your fingers twitched at your sides, wishing so deeply that you hadn’t woken up at all this morning. Ellie was beautiful- gorgeous even. You would have been head over heels if you had met her years ago, before. . . well, before Abby happened. Still, her beauty wasn't enough to completely distract you from your grief. A part of you felt guilty for even finding her attractive as you slid into the front seat of the truck. 
Maybe that was why you’d had such a strange dream last night. Or maybe. . . maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it really was Abby trying to tell you that it was okay to move on. That was confusing to even think about, and it made you count the months since her death on both of your hands, trying to gauge if enough time really had passed. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, but the thought of being in love with anyone seemed like an impossibility. Everything was broken. How could you ever love anyone the same way that you loved Abby? You’d just be doing that other person a disservice. 
That’s right, you were cursed. 
You could feel Ellie’s gaze on the side of your face as you made your way down the dirt road, up towards the hen houses. You blinked a few times, the apples of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Slowly you met her gaze, lips twitching up in a small smile as she quickly looked away from you, nervous over having been caught. 
“My dad built ten large coops, so this whole fenced-in area right here is where the chickens graze.” You stopped the car and put it in park, keeping the old thing running like you usually did during your quick morning chores. Sometimes the poor truck had a hard time starting back up, and you’d probably burst into tears if your newfound friend had to walk a half mile back to the house with you. 
“Do you guys have any problems with foxes?” She asked, keeping up with your fast pace as you unlatched the front of the fence for the both of you. 
Your nose wrinkled in disgust, and you were quick to throw your arms up exasperatedly. 
“Oh god, do we! I had to get someone out here to change out the fence just six months ago because one of those little fuckers had somehow managed to dig it’s way into their area. Killed seven of my poor girls.” You remembered how angry you were when you’d pulled up to the coops that morning. Burying seven dead hens wasn’t a pleasant experience for you, but it wasn’t something that was new. Still, you hated knowing that they’d suffered in their final moments. 
“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Ellie looked around the area, finding it impossible not to notice how well kept everything was. The coops were freshly painted, the grass was gorgeous and plush- bright green under her feet. Truly, your farm was an oasis. She’d never seen anything quite like it before, and you'd barely even started the tour.
“Can I hold one?” She asked meekly, smiling up at you shyly as you turned to look at her. You didn’t exactly take her as the type of girl that would want to hold a chicken, but you were happy to oblige her. 
“One of my mamas just hatched a few chicks. Would you want to hold-” 
“Yes.” She quickly added, jogging off in the direction that you were pointing, eager to hold anything tiny and fluffy that you had to offer. 
You were shocked at the laugh that bubbled its way out of your chest. A genuine, good natured laugh that you found hard to contain as she began impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for you to catch up. 
“Didn’t take you for a chicken lover, city girl.” You teased, unlatching the door for her so that she could make her way inside. 
The hens squawked excitedly at your appearance, realizing they’d be able to eat their fill of grass, bugs, and dried corn. A few ran over, crowding at your ankles. Rows and rows of nests were lined up along the walls. In the back of the coop were a few small rectangular doors that you could open, which was what you used to harvest eggs. Your dad’s old coops didn’t have anything fancy like that, so you grew up having your hands pecked at. You used to run back home to your mother with blood bruises and angry, raised skin. 
“I love chicks.” Ellie said simply and the double meaning wasn’t lost on you. 
As if on cue one of the chickens began pecking at the woman’s ankles, earning a small hiss of surprise from her. You snorted, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t laugh at her expense. “I can’t say the feeling is mutual, apparently.” You added playfully, looking around for the yellow poof balls. 
“Old news.” She was smiling at you, and something in your chest began doing awful, uncomfortable flips. For a second you even felt a bit nauseous. 
Ellie wasn’t Abby, but there was something similar about the two of them. The short haired girl seemed capable and strong. There was a physical sort of confidence in the way that she walked that told you that she knew how to handle herself. You watched as she shoved her hands in her pockets, shoulders squared off, feet shoulder length apart- and it had your lips parting. 
Still, you remembered Joel talking about his daughter. . . saying that she was military. You couldn’t remember which branch she belonged to, but you could tell that she was well trained. You tried to imagine what Ellie would look like if she was put in a situation where she needed to protect herself, and you found a shiver running up your spine.
There was a coldness that had been in her eyes when the two of you had first met that had chilled you to the bone. You saw none of it when you looked into her eyes now, but. . . still. . . the thought terrified you. Had those capable hands ever killed anyone before? 
You felt horrible even thinking that, even going as far as to give your thigh a small slap in punishment as you bent down, knees digging into the wood shavings and hay. The chicks didn’t seem off put by your small scowl. They saw you and instantly thought “food”, which had them clumsily running in your direction. You hadn’t heard her walk up beside you, only felt the sleeve of her long sleeve shirt brush against your arm as she sat back on her haunches beside you. 
“It won’t scare them if I pick them up, will it?” She asked gently, slowly reaching a hand out so that she could brush it against their plush down feathers. They chirped contentedly, unaware of what “danger” even meant yet. You were guilty of babying your chickens, meaning none of them were scared of humans. They pecked at you when they were annoyed, but were never violent per say. 
“Not at all. They might seem a bit unhappy, but it’s only because they’re hungry.” 
You pressed your hand to your cheek as you watched the woman pick one of the chicks up, holding the tiny thing tightly against her chest so as to not drop it. There was something almost comical about seeing the woman look this gentle, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried not to hurt the tiny thing. It was adorable. Which was terrifying for you. 
You were once again reminded of your dream. . . and you didn’t think you were ready to let Abby go. Not even when Ellie looked up at you excitedly, using her free hand to gesture towards the small creature in disbelief. Almost like she was scared that even talking would frighten it. 
“So what do we do now?” Ellie asked, putting the chick down so that she could stand back up. You followed her lead, making your way back over towards the door. 
“We open up all the doors and let them walk around for the day. I usually come back and get them back in their coops by sundown.” You let her know, leaving the door wide open as you moved coop to coop. 
Ellie helped you, cutting down the time in half. The two of you were back in the truck in record time. You showed her the fields where you planted corn in the late summer to get ready for early fall. You pointed out the small flower garden you had taken upon yourself to cultivate, and then you pulled up to the green houses. Her jaw went slack as she took in all of the buildings. 
“You do all of this yourself?” She needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure, she was no farmer, but even someone like her knew just how much work this must be for you. 
She couldn’t imagine you doing this all day, every day all by yourself. It kinda made her chest ache a bit for you. So when you nodded she took it upon herself to climb out of the truck, eager to do something to lighten the burden for you. 
As the two of you approached what appeared to be the oldest of the greenhouses, she couldn’t help but realize that she’d been with you for about an hour. . . and she felt great. Better than great, she felt normal. She had been sent out here so that she could recover, and while she didn’t quite understand what that really and truly meant, being here with you felt right. Being around the animals felt therapeutic, and while Joel might have told you a little bit about her in passing, you didn’t know enough about Ellie to pass any sort of judgment or feel any sort of pity. 
Even so, Ellie wasn’t sure she’d be against telling you about what happened. Something told her that you would be understanding. You knew what it felt like to lose people, and she was sure that you had regrets somewhere along the line. Everyone does when it comes to losing loved ones. 
She hated that you had suffered enough to understand where she was coming from, but loved that she wasn’t alone for once. 
The two of you walked in silence, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that let her know that you were thinking about something serious and sad. Ellie wondered whether your father was on your mind this morning. . . or perhaps your girlfriend. It wasn’t her place to ask, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. 
“Want to help me water them?” You finally asked, motioning towards the tables of plants. 
She nodded, but quickly turned to face you. She couldn’t count how many green houses you had on top of this one. 
“Do we water all of those plants too?” She felt stupid the second that she asked the question, but even more so when you began to giggle. 
Sounding stupid was worth it to hear the sound, so she sucked it up. 
“Those green houses are newer and have a built in sprinkler system. We just have to worry about this one, thankfully. We’d be here all afternoon if not.” You began to head in the direction of the hose so that you could turn it on, your stomach tightening with hunger. 
You knew the second you got back to the house and made breakfast that you’d be nauseous though. Bad days like this were always the same. You were hungry but you couldn’t eat. You wanted to distract yourself but nothing would work. You wanted to talk to someone but didn’t have any friends that you trusted enough to actually. . . onload on, and you were sick of your mom crying on your behalf. 
“So you’re staying with Joel now? For how long?” You decided to make small talk as you handed her the hose, walking along with her as she painstakingly paid attention to every sprout. 
She licked her lips before answering you, eyes flickering in a way that made you think that she might feel a bit nervous. 
“I was. . . sent here. It’s not like I don’t love being home, because I kinda do. It’s just not something that I exactly chose for myself.” That didn’t feel like the whole truth, but you supposed that she would tell you whenever she was ready. 
You played with the raw hem of your old t-shirt, suddenly anxious that you might have put her in a bad spot. Still, you found yourself wanting to know more about her. 
“Do you have an addiction problem?” You realized how inappropriate it was to be so blunt. Your mouth went bone dry with panic, and you were quick to grab her hand, shaking your head. “A-All I’m trying to say is that my uncle had a really bad drug problem for years. He’s been clean and sober since last Christmas and is doing great. I don’t judge, that’s all. I’m proud of you, if anything.” 
She gulped, looking down at your hand and noticing how close your body was to hers now. She fumbled to turn the hose off with one hand, trying to get her breathing under control. It was twice now that you were touching her like this, and she hated herself for wanting to wrap you back up in a hug so bad. She was also trying not to notice how plush and kissable your lips were.
You smelled great too, which made it hard for Ellie to think. 
“Yeah, I guess I have a bit of an addiction problem,” She mumbled, but shrugged her shoulders soon after, contradicting herself. “But that’s not really why I’m here.” 
Ellie would have to tell you eventually, she supposed. If the two of you were going to be as good of friends as Joel wanted, then she’d have to fess up eventually. It was better to get it out and in the open now rather than later. Plus. . . if she had some sort of a breakdown then maybe you’d be more understanding if you knew why it was happening. 
“My therapist tells me that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Marines and I had a really bad accident. So. . . it was hard for me to live alone.” Ellie stared down at a long-dead leaf on the ground and bent down to pick it up, gently playing with it’s crinkled edges. 
“Did you have panic attacks? I have those sometimes too.” You wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, as stupid as it might sound. 
You wanted to relate to her without telling her that your girlfriend had also been a Marine. She was being vulnerable with you, and the last thing you wanted to do was make this moment about you by bringing up your deceased girlfriend.
“Yeah. . . Yeah, I have those a lot. Sometimes I lose track of time- disassociate. It’s scary for others to deal with, so my friends thought that it would be best if I were with Joel. There’s less triggers here than back in Chicago.” You could tell that she was still uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she was powering through. 
Ellie appreciated that there wasn’t a hint of judgment in your tone. You genuinely seemed curious. . . and talking about herself like this felt good. Validating, even. 
“What triggers you? I just want to make sure that I don’t overstep or accidentally do anything wrong-” 
“No, no. You’re fine. It’s more so loud noises and bright lights.” 
“So no gunshots?” 
“Guns aren’t too bad. . . it’s more so car crashes. Explosions, you know?” 
Your mouth went dry. You did know. It’s how Abby died, afterall. You hated that Ellie had gone through something similar. Your heart ached for her. 
“Is that how you got this. . . ?” You began to brush your fingers against the scar over her eye. You froze as she flinched, guilt bottoming out your stomach as you quickly yanked your hand away.
She reached out to take your elbow into her calloused hand before you could drop your palm back down at your side, and pressed your fingers against the skin herself. Her skin was still soft, but raised and jagged. You’d never felt a scar this deep before. Still, it was warm under your touch. Alive. 
The moment felt oddly intimate, and you kept your fingers there for a few seconds too long before dropping your hand back at your side. Ellie felt like she was going to explode. No one had ever wanted to touch her scar, let alone been allowed to. 
“Yeah, It is.” She cleared her throat, grabbing one of her arms in her hands nervously. She was starting to realize that she didn’t mind being seen by you. “I’m legally blind in the eye now, which has been pretty hard to get used to.” 
“So you can’t see at all out of it?” You questioned, beginning to walk back over towards the repotting station. You’d noticed a few sprouts that were getting a little too big for their pots, and the last thing you wanted was crowded roots. 
She followed after you like a lost puppy, hot on your trail. “I can see shapes and colors. Movement, and everything. But if you held up your hand and asked me “how many fingers am I holding up”, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” She’d practically had to relearn how to do everything again, as dramatic as that sounded. Losing the vision of one eye affected a lot more than one might think. 
“Oh, shit.” You remarked, nose wrinkling up in sympathy. You couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on top of dealing with the mental anguish of the accident. 
“ ‘Oh, shit’ is right.” She agreed with a small smile, leaning her hip against the table as you began laying out the necessary supplies. She watched your hands as they moved expertly around the table, eyes locked on your fingers. “I used to be beautiful.” She joked absentmindedly, alluding to the scar that now marred her features. 
“You’re still beautiful.” You said, fully concentrated on the task at hand. 
You didn’t realize the weight that your words carried, nor Ellie’s reaction to them. She felt like a giddy teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. She was smitten.
You were the first person to treat her like an actual human being since the incident. This was the most alive she’d felt in almost a year. . . and she was talking about things. Not like she might talk to her therapist, it was different than that. She was talking to someone that wanted to get to know her, not just to diagnose her, but to understand her. It felt good. Really good. Sickeningly good. 
And you thought she was beautiful. 
“Do you want to help me repot these little guys?” You asked, motioning towards the tiny pots. 
She was scared of killing your seedlings but nodded anyway, desperate for your approval. Ellie watched as you demonstrated the entire thing for her, praying to god she wouldn’t forget a step. 
The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, shaking out roots and gently tucking the plants into their new homes. It was calming- melodic, almost. The constant motion, the gentle noises of the wilderness all around you. Ellie could even feel herself getting good at it. Not as good as you, of course. . . but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she would be. 
You watched as she rolled her sleeves up and over her forearms, taking a second to appreciate her hands. Once again, you felt guilty for being so attracted to her. Strands of auburn hair had fallen out from behind her ear and hung in her pale face as she focused on her task. Her strong hands worked methodically. Her veins, her knuckles, her forearms and biceps- Ellie wasn’t just beautiful but gorgeous. 
‘Give me a sign, Abby. If I’m not reading too far into last night's dream. . . then just give me some sort of a sign.’ You thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowing as you packed more dirt around the seedling in your hand. You felt like you were being horrifically dramatic, but what else could you do?
You felt idiotic. Delusional, even.
Beside you Ellie continued to work, completely unaware of your building turmoil. Pot after pot, she was really getting the hang of it. Pack down a layer of dirt, shake out roots, pack dirt on top- repeat.
She  reached out for another one of the black plastic pots, sliding it over in front of her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the rattling. She’d been so close to covering up whatever was at the bottom with dirt, but the sunlight caught whatever it was just right.
It sparkled. 
Ellie pinched the object between two dirt coated fingers, her eyebrows practically raising up to her hairline as she realized that it was a ring. A valuable looking one, at that. 
“Uh. . . is this yours?” Ellie asked, showing it to you. 
You blinked a few times at the ring, scared for a moment that you were hallucinating, because things like this only happened in movies. People asking for signs from the other side only for a ghostly apparition to pop up on screen.
Still, that was your promise ring in Ellie’s hand. 
Your bottom lip quivered, eyes filling up with tears before you could even stop them. You reached out with gentle fingers, taking it into your hand graciously. 
“Thank you.” 
And you weren’t sure if you were talking to Ellie. . . or Abby.
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984 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 5 months
Note
Hi! Can you write something about fem!reader, who sees Mizu naked for the first time at the hot springs, and absolutely DROOLS over her?
Pretty please??
That's a good one! Thank you for the ask.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, hot springs, flirting, suggestive, kissing, sitting on Mizu's lap, finding out Mizu's secret
Word count: 0.9k
Ao3
A/N: I would drool over her any time of day.
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There's been something brewing between you and Mizu since you started your journey together. You'd seen a lot of things in such a short amount of time, so much fight and bloodshed. But now finally time you relax, arriving at a hot springs, and having the time for yourself. And maybe for Mizu too.
You let out a long content sigh as you sunk into the warm water. All the tension in your body felt like it was melted away, enough for your mind to drift to the samurai who you've been traveling lately.
"Enjoying yourself?" The sound of her voice made you leap forward from your chosen spot.
"Mizu?! Why are you-" As soon you were about to yell your eyes fell on her naked body. "Wait... you..." You found yourself scanning down her body, then quickly back up to her eyes. She wasn't bothered by your staring, she simply tossed the towel she was still holding over her shoulder and sunk into the warm water, running her fingers over her hair to get it off her face.
A lot of things started to make sense now. How she never wanted you to inspect her injuries, how when she flirted she insisted on you not touching her, how you never felt anything when you cuddled up together. "You're staring at me. Is me being a woman that surprising for you?" Fuck, were you staring that much?
"Apologies. It was unexpected to hear our voice here. But..." You let your eyes have another pass up and down her body, "I think you look really good."
Somehow Mizu's smirk got more beautiful now. She scooted up closer to you, your shoulder touching her's, "That's good. Or else traveling together would become quite awkward. Also I shouldn't need to say this but you understand that this needs to stay between us correct?"
Mizu was hired because she was feared, they called her a demon, well they called him a demon, there was no doubt that this revelation would both put her in danger and potentially risk her reputation. "Understood. You can count on me to keep your secret. Besides we already have one, what's another?" What ever your relationship was right now it did stay as secretive as it could be, especially from your father who already warned Mizu about not touching you when he hired her to escort you across the country safely.
Those orders didn't even last a month. At least now you could rest easy knowing that even if things do go further you wouldn't end up pregnant.
"I can hear you thinking over there. Are you... changing your mind about us?" Mizu thought there was an 'us', it wasn't just your imagination, it wasn't just a fun thing to pass the lonely time on the road. At least it didn't seem so when you looked into her eyes.
"Not at all. Actually I think it benefits our relationship. If you told me earlier I wouldn't be on my guard as much when we slept in the same bedroll."
"That was you on your guard? You seemed very comfortable to be on top of me." You felt Mizu's hands take you by the wrist and pull you onto her lap. It was instinct that made you jerk away before you realized you could melt into her, "I remember it was a little like this. And you were doing something like," Her callused fingers dug into your thighs, moving you back and forth, "this, with a little frown on your face. Bet you thought you weren't getting me excited enough."
A sudden new tension flew up your spine and pooled between your legs, only better than the previous times because you knew that this was exactly how Mizu felt as well. "So when you... excused yourself after..."
"I might be called a heartless demon but I have needs too. It's especially hard to keep my mind off those kinds of thoughts when I travel with someone as gorgeous as you." Her touch was warmer than the water itself. Every featherlight touch of her fingers crossing path from your thigs to your arms to the small of your back left you trembling. "By the way... you're not nearly as quiet as you think you are."
Oh god. You weren't horny anymore, you wanted to sink into the water and never be seen again. You would become a spirit of the hot springs. That was the only way to get away from this embarrassment.
"How much did you hear?"
"Let me think." Oh god, no, why did you ask?! "There was something about you wanting me to hold you down, something about my fingers and then you asking for my co-" You rushed to shut her up before she could finish that word. Unfortunately you weren't thinking straight, from the heat around you, from the heat in your body, from the feeling of Mizu's naked body against yours and from your embarrassment. You didn't have to kiss her, but you did. Mizu was quick to kiss you back, to press you even closer. You could feel every inch of her. "I can still do two out of three for you."
"Please just shut up, I will never live this down." You leaned your head against her shoulder, hoping that this would just end already. Well not actually this was quite enjoyable.
Mizu dragged her finger from the bottom to the top of your spine, the tingling sensation making you shiver and whimper, "Your secret is safe with me." A secret for a secret.
2K notes · View notes
girlokwhatever · 13 days
Text
late nights
paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of intercourse/private parts, overwhelmingly cute and suffocating fluff towards the end, paige’s attitude (she’s so sassy bffr)
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“paige move. my arm fell asleep.”
you can see her dimly from the streetlights shining through the window, not missing the way she rolls her eyes. you know she heard you, yet chooses to pretend like she didn’t. at her response, or lack thereof, you roll your eyes as well.
“paige i literally saw you roll your eyes..” when she doesn’t answer again, you start pushing on her shoulder in attempt to break your arm free. you catch a glimpse of the time on her bedside table,
1:33 am.
your girlfriend starts to groan, not happy with the new method. instead of sitting up like you want her to, she just rolls on top of you. you let out a huff at her weight fully resting on the entirety of your body. paige is a solid few inches taller than you and very, very muscular, which only adds to her weight. though you’re always happy to be close to her, her antics weren’t amusing.
“aw thanks paigey, now i just can’t breathe.”
“you’re welcome honey.”
she lifts her head, probably just so you can see the smug grin on her face. she pecks your lips and puts her head right back down into the crevice between your neck and shoulder.
you begin to feel the pins and needles in your arms from the new blood flow. it only makes you wince, and as if all the stars aligned for you tonight, paige decides to roll back to her previous spot. right on top of your arm.
“paige! get off or i swear-“ she huffs and sits up, side-eyeing you from her position.
though she’s getting on your absolute last nerve, she does look beautiful. her black sports bra and pajama pants, hair in a bun, and her skin glowing so nice in the orange from the streetlight outside.
“why do you hate me?” her tone is laced with attitude, fronting a persona you and kk like to call “snarky and sassy.” and boy, does she live up to the name.
“i don’t hate you paige.”
“oh really? but you don’t want to cuddle me”
“i do, c’mere. you were just-“ when she lays back down, intertwining your bodies together, you feel the pressure of her knee against your crotch. you don’t know if she did it on purpose or not, but it makes your face grow hot and you thank the lord above you’re facing away from the light. if she saw, she’d definitely tease you about it.
“um.. baby..”
“hm?” you feel her breath hot against your neck, which only adds to your new found body heat.
“your leg is in my vagina right now.”
“s’okay.”
“alright. just jam your knee into my crotch. it’s fine.” she lets out a loud huff, sitting up again. even through her huff, you don’t miss the way her stomach growls.
“hey babe?”
“yes paige?” you already know what she’s gonna say, and you also know how you’re going to respond. she’s interrupted your sleep for too long.
“i’m really hungry-“
“i’m not getting up.”
she stops for a minute, contemplating her options. she stands up, and for a second you believe she might just let you sleep,
but no.
she circles to the end of the bed, grabbing your feet and yanking you towards her. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around your back and lifts you up. you know your fate now, so you opt for wrapping your legs around her and accepting it.
“’m takin you with me.”
she carries you with ease through the darkness and into the kitchen. setting you down on the counter, she moves to the freezer and grabs the box of frozen sausage biscuits. she plops two on a plate and into the microwave and then quickly returns to the space between your parted legs.
“y’know.. i could’ve eaten you instead and we wouldn’t’ve had to get up” she says it with a smug little smirk, the one she has when she knows what she’s doing. she knows the affect she has on you.
her hands are on your thighs now, inching up under her shirt that you’re wearing and her fingers trail the line of your underwear. you’re so entrapped by her tactics that you realize you’ve been holding your breath. her whole hand is almost buried in your panties when the microwave beeps. she slowly pulls away and leaves you sitting there, burning alive. surely now she can see you blushing.
she sets the plate down beside you on the counter once she returns. still smirking, she runs her hands up your sides and they settle on your hips, pulling you closer to her and towards the edge of the counter. her fingers trace shapes on you, you think she’s drawing hearts but you’re honestly too tired to know.
she thinks to herself how beautiful you are and how lucky she is to have you. your skin is soft under her fingertips and she admires the scent of your body wash. she loves everything about you, can’t ever get enough. her skin tingles when you wrap your hands around her neck, playing with the loose hairs on the back of her neck.
she’s so entranced by you she almost forgets the biscuits growing cold. she motions the plate to you, a silent question ‘do you want one?’ but you shake your head no. deep down she’s sorry for making you lose sleep, but she remembers if she didn’t then she wouldn’t get to see you like this, so the thought leaves as quickly as it came.
when shes washing her plate, she almost misses your little “love you.”
her heart pounds, her stomach flutters, and she swears no one has ever made her feel this way before. she wants to crawl under your skin so she never has to be without you.
“i love you too”
now she’s carrying you back to bed, tucking you in and fighting the urge to keep you awake so she can hear your voice all night. but you’re both tired now, so there’s no point.
your back is facing her and she pulls you into her chest, wrapping her arms around you so she knows you’re safe. and you are. with paige you’ll always be safe. the last thing you remember before drifting off is her lips kissing behind your ear and her nose nuzzling into your hair.
“goodnight pretty girl.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:**ੈ✩‧₊˚☽。⋆🀥⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
FIRST FIC WHATTTT
you know i had to hop on the paige train
i hope it’s bearable
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seospicybin · 8 months
Text
TOO HOT TO HANDLE.
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PART I
Lee Know x reader. (s)
Too Hot To Handle Masterlist
Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (10,8k words)
Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Feel free to send feedback! x
Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.
YOU: I'm always on the hunt. I'm always looking for the next exciting thing [giggles] I know I may sound conceited saying this but... I usually get what I want [bites lip] Well, I'm beautiful, I'm fun, I have a great body... they can't say no to me [winks] get ready 'cause I'm coming in hot!
-
Having all these eyes on you the moment you walk in is nothing less than your expectations.
You used to get stared at by people, it's something that you've been dealing with after you went through puberty. For one, you don't have either the big boobs or the ass, your body is... average. But people still stare at you like you have all of that on you.
That's when you learn that sex appeal doesn't have anything to do with your appearance.
You can engage in a boring conversation with someone and they'd still find you sexy. Sex appeal is a gift, a very lethal gift.
"Hi, everyone!" You sweetly greet them with an elegant wave of hand.
"Girl, you're really cute!" One of the females says.
You smile even though you prefer to be called anything but cute, coming from her makes it sounds like you're small and not a threat to them.
However, a compliment is a compliment and maybe she meant it in a good way.
"You too," you return the compliment with a quick cheek-to-cheek kiss.
Skipping the females, you go straight to introduce yourself to the male guests, "Hi, hello!"
There are three of them, blonde, brunette, dark-haired, chocolate, vanilla, and caramel. They got everything in here and you can't decide which one you want to taste first.
"Jai!" The dark-haired says. The tattoos covering his left sleeve catch your attention.
You know that accent everywhere, "Australian. I like it," you say with a flirty smile.
You turn to the next one, "And you are?"
"Luca," he answers with a rather different accent.
It's hard to tell but he's tall with a very well-built body, it's safe to say he's an athlete.
"Do you play sports?"
"I'm a professional footballer," he answers.
"Soccer?" You ask for confirmation because football means a different sport in a few countries.
He nods, "Do you like it?"
"Well, I like what I'm seeing," you shamelessly reply.
It amuses him so much that he laughs, "I mean, soccer," he corrects himself.
"Only when you're playing," you answer without a beat.
You move on to the blonde one that has the biggest body out of the three. It's hard to miss those abs even with his oiled body reflecting the sun at you.
"Bryan," he introduces and doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek.
"You're so big," you say in awe.
"The bigger the better?"
You grab a glass and let him pour you one, "Well, cheers to that!"
-
YOU: Oh... [fans your neck] They're all so hot. Not sure I can survive in this heat.
-
It's better to consider the other female guests as your friends rather than competitors.
They're all attractive and have their own charms, it's not like you're here to compare looks. You're here to have fun in a show called Pleasure Island.
From the name of it, you can imagine all the fun you can have and hopefully, get some action in the process.
The next male guest who enters the villa is a bit shorter than the previous ones, he has long curly hair and a great body.
He comes in your direction and introduces himself to you first before anyone else.
"I'm Jack!" He says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.
"Hi, you have a nice smile!" You say.
"I love your smile," he flirts back with a subtle wink.
He leaves quite an impression on you, he has wild youthful charms.
-
YOU: Jack is cute. He'll make a cute boy toy. If you know what I mean.
-
It comes down to the last guest.
Your eyes are already busy silently checking them out while sipping your fruity cocktail but how can you say no to another body you can ogle on?
This guy sure has a lot of confidence in him. Wide strides, a sly smile, and a face that would make Michelangelo rise from his grave just to immortalize it into a sculpture.
Sadly, he only introduces himself briefly to everyone from the other end of the group of people lining up to face the camera.
"I'm Minho," he shortly announces his name with an enigmatic smile that would make Monalisa run for her money.
There's something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He got the body, and the face, he even got that improved, sexier version of The Kubrick stare.
You quietly watch him as he speaks to a girl with rosy cheeks, ginger hair, and a Scottish accent, you believe her name is Maisie.
Something about him makes you can't look away. A part of it must be because he's pleasing to the eyes and the other part is... You are simply attracted to him.
It feels as if he knows he trapped you in his magnetic field, he catches you looking.
Instead of looking away, you stare deeply into his eyes and sending him signals that you're indeed attracted that you can't stop looking.
Before it turns into an intense staring contest, you slyly smile and raise your glass at him for a toast.
He slightly raises his glass as well and sips it without breaking his eye contact with you.
That means signals received so let's see if he gets them right.
-
YOU: Minho is dangerous but who likes to play safe anyway? Definitely, not me [smirks]
-
"I like Jai. He's hot..." says the beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair, Agnes.
It's obvious that she'll be the main character of this show. She's hot, very likable, and has a perfect smile that would get her teeth-whitening ads.
"What about you?" She asks the tallest girl with legs for days, Zara.
Her dark skin glows under the sun and her curly hair flows down her back, radiating that goddess beauty.
"I like Bryan. I like big boy," she answers.
"And apparently, you like vanilla too, huh?" you playfully add.
Everyone cracks a laugh at your witty response and accidentally takes your turn to answer, "I like Jack, he's cute. I like cute boys."
-
YOU: Jack is the safest choice for now. I have my eyes on Minho too but I want to check the competition first.
-
"Yeah, he is, I think he's the youngest of them all," the one with midnight hair and light brown eyes, Alia.
Maisie nods in agreement, "But I got my eyes on Minho," she says.
The first competition appears and you keep your face straight, playing dumb.
"Oh, good choice!" You calmly respond.
"Did you see his face? He's so beautiful, like a Greek God!" Maisie says with a dramatic sigh.
"And his body, ooh..." Alia adds, overwhelmed by just the thought of Minho.
"Oh, you like him too?" Maisie asks, faking her surprised tone.
"Yeah, I'm going for him, he's so my type," Alia daringly says.
Forget what you said about them as your friends!
Maisie and Alia are your competitors now but you're not going to declare a war just yet. For now, you want to gather as much intel as possible to assess the probability of winning against them.
-
YOU: Minho is quite the ladies' favorite I see.
-
You're the last person to come into the bedroom and everyone seems to have chosen their territory.
There are five beds anyway, you're not afraid of not getting one and you're alright sleeping with anyone.
Maisie can have her victory when you see her getting onto Minho's bed.
You sit on the sofa looking away and when everyone else is busy chatting with each other, you look at Minho's direction laying down with hands tucked under his head.
Once your eyes make contact and lock in a gaze, you keep staring into his eyes with your thumb tugged between your teeth.
When you deem he gets the message as he flashes you his signature half-smirk, you look away and shift your attention to someone else.
"What's good, Jack?" You ask him who's looking lonely on his bed.
"You," he answers.
"I think I'm more than just good," you tell him with a flirtatious laugh.
"There's only one way to prove it," his eyes that keep looking at anywhere but your face tells it all.
-
YOU: Jack is just so... feisty? He's so young, so eager. He's like a rabbit, ready to have sex 24/7. A jackrabbit.
-
The theme for tonight's party is Greek Gods and Goddesses.
The males are wearing togas while the females are wearing white and gold dresses with less fabric and high slits on them. You put on a dress with a plunging neckline and a golden headpiece on the crown of your hair. Not forgetting to put layers of lipstick on because nothing arouses men more than seeing red-painted lips.
The male cheers when all the females are descending the stairs to the beach where the party is held. There's a bonfire, glasses of cocktails ready for everyone to grab, and platters of food arranged so beautifully to snack on.
To get it started, music is blasting through speakers so everyone can warm up with a dance, gyrating and humping against each other and whatnot.
You notice Jai and Agnes already got things going on as you caught them kissing in between changes of songs.
While Jack is hopelessly trying to get something out of you for a while.
At one point, you let him rest his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, dancing and rubbing yourself against him as a little treat for him.
-
YOU: Everyone is looking so hot, so divine... the sexual tension is rising and the night hasn't even started yet.
-
The music abruptly stops playing and everyone is told to sit down while Jack is taking center stage, announcing a game everyone is going to play.
"Nectar is the drink of the Olympian gods but unlike them, we have a new way to drink it!" He begins by sharing a little knowledge of the Greek mythology.
You have zero idea what it's got to do with a game everyone is about to play.
"Everyone is going to stand here and let the other Gods or Goddesses drink the nectar from their bodies," he explains, pointing to a bowl of honey on the table.
A few of them coo in excitement and probably start thinking about what they're going to do with it.
"Nothing is off-limits! It's whatever, wherever, whoever you want to do," he playfully remarks.
Bryan is the first one to take his turn and he stands there with his big body, looking like a true Greek God in his toga and crown.
You see that Zara wastes no time to take her chance, taking a spoonful of honey and letting it dribble down his abs. She drops to her knees to lick the honey clean on his glorious abs.
"Whoo!" You howl and applaud her because she sets the standards so high already.
She doesn't miss the chance to kiss him after, getting his big boy just like she planned. Now that's hot!
It gets crazier with each turn and you want to have fun as well, ultimately, you want to show everyone how to get it done.
It's Agnes's turn. You don't usually have a thing for blonde but she's pretty and she'll make a great conquest.
Before Jai can have his chance, you dash toward her and brush her lips with honey right with your finger. She has soft lips and you're so eager to taste it.
You lean in and passionately kiss her, showing off your skill in kissing and giving everyone a little show. Just as expected, kissing her only convinces you that girls are better kissers.
"Oh, damn!" You faintly hear one of the males exclaim.
Agnes gasps as she lets go of the kiss and suddenly, Jai takes over from you, afraid that you'll take her from him.
-
YOU: It's a party. I want to have a lot of fun and kiss everyone.
-
You return to your seat with a triumphant smile on your face, on the way, you shot a glance at Minho to dare him.
However, both Maisie and Alia didn't get any from him. You start to wonder if he's going to kiss someone at all or not. When it's Minho's turn though, Maisie is excitedly put honey on his neck and licks it off for him, finishing it with a kiss on his lips.
Alia takes her turn after, kissing him right on the lips and well, you must admit that he's a good kisser. He's lacking in hand placement.
Sure, you would love to get up there and show him what a good kisser you are.
-
YOU: It's still day one. There'll be lots of opportunities to kiss him and if not, I'll make the opportunity myself.
-
When it comes to your turn, you expect nothing from Jack but he's waiting for it, rubbing his hands together, impatient to execute his plan on you.
"Come, get your honey," you playfully say.
Jack picks up the whole bowl of honey and pours it down your cleavage. You're gasping the second the sticky liquid lands on your skin and trickles down the valley between your breasts.
Putting the bowl down, Jack dives right in and buries his face between your breasts, he's smearing the honey all over instead of licking it off of you.
You admire his creativity for this even though you know it's coming from the pit of his lewd, juvenile brain.
"Oh, yeah!" He lets a celebratory roar but it soon dies down as someone else comes toward you in his confident, wide strides.
Your stomach is fluttering as Minho stands right in front of you, looking like Adonis with his sharp nose and chiseled jaws, got you holding your breath and wondering what he's about to do to you.
Minho is unpredictable which is exactly what you're looking for in a man.
You see he dips his two fingers into the honey and brings them close to your lips, smearing it all over. Your lungs are shrinking the longer you hold your breath yet you can't seem to breathe when he's leaning so close and about to...
Minho doesn't kiss you. Instead of that, he licks your lips and you can feel his hot tongue on your lips. One lick is all it takes to make your heart skip a beat.
When you think he's done, Minho tugs your lower lip between his teeth and gently bites it, pulling at it before letting it go.
As he takes a step back, Minho shoves his fingers to his mouth, a half smirk that signified he just evened the score with you.
-
YOU: Minho got the signals after all [slyly smiles]
-
When the host of the show enters you finally snap yourself out of it.
"Wild night, huh?" He asks everyone.
"Yeah!" Bryan answers the loudest.
"It gets wilder because I have a surprise for you guys!" The host announces.
That gets everyone excited, guessing what kind of surprise they'll bring on the first night of the show. They expect so much because everything has been great already. More girls? More boys? A celebrity guest? A DJ?
"Are you guys ready?"
Everyone is hyped, shooting up from their seats and jumping in excitement like kids on Christmas morning.
"Bring it in!"
The attention shifts to the two staff carrying a big wooden box and placing it in the center. The anticipation is rising and everyone can't wait to see what's inside.
"Five! Four! Three! Two..."
Everyone counting down the second and when it finally gets to one, the side of the box opens, revealing a cone-shaped thing inside, lighting up in purple colors.
Then you hear the infamous ding sound that you know for sure it's coming from Lana, the ultimate cockblocker.
Your excitement fizzles out in a second and drop your head on your hands, "Oh, fuck!"
Maisie squeals while Agnes shrieks in horror and the rest are wondering what is that thing, oblivious to the fact that they're about to be forced into celibacy.
"Is that an air freshener?" Jai asks in pure confusion.
"That's Lana!" You say.
"What?" He cringes and is still confused.
"She's going to cockblock us!" You concisely tell him what's about to happen to all of you.
"We're on Too Hot To Handle!" Zara breaks the news for everyone and makes it real for you that you're trapped in this show.
"Hello, I'm Lana, your personal digital assistant!" The cone starts speaking.
"Welcome to the retreat!"
-
YOU: What. The actual. Fuck?
-
"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections."
Alia whines and then sighs, "I signed up for dicks," she lowly mutters.
You lowly laugh at her words, not realizing that you're also laughing at your pain.
"For the last 12 hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."
The more Lana speaks the more you feel like fainting. Can't believe that she threw a party, and got everyone all hot and bothered, delivering shocking news in the middle of it to let everyone know that they can't have a release at the end of it.
"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."
-
YOU: That much money makes me horny, to be honest.
-
"How about I give you $200,000 for you to go away, Lana?" Luca jokingly offers but it falls short since Lana has no ears.
Even if she had one, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, Lana is her own boss.
"However, I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches of the rules."
Looking at them and how wild the things they've done this night alone, you can tell that there'll be not much money left at the end.
"For those of you who need reminding, there is to be no kissing...."
"Fuck!" Zara bluntly curses.
"No heavy petting, no sex..."
"Oh, my God!" Agnes panicking, looking like she's about to hyperventilating.
"And no self-gratification."
Jack's eyebrow raises in question, "What's that mean?"
"No masturbating," you tell him with a sad smile.
He looks devastated as if you've just told him a relative has died, "for real?"
You stifle a nod.
"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes.
-
YOU: Boys make me horny. Money makes me horny. I'm fucked.
-
Everyone in the dressing room is groaning and complaining about the turn of Pleasure Island into No Pleasure Island with Lana ending the party for everyone.
You don't want to be dragged down into the misery pit and decide to finish your night routine quickly, wanting to end the day already.
Minho's bed is right next to the door and he's laying there as if he's been waiting for you.
"You'll sleep on this bed," he says, stopping you from walking.
You tip your head to the side, then let out a low chuckle, "How are you so sure?"
He leans back on his pillow and puts his hands under his head, "because I'm sleeping here," he answers.
Minho is so cocky, so pretty, a menacing force in this retreat and you're intrigued to see what it feels like to sleep with the devil's advocate.
You crawl onto the bed and lay next to him, not showing any signs that you'll fall into his temptations, at least, not tonight.
-
YOU: Well, as expected, the best girl won!
-
The next thing you anticipate is how Maisie or Alia is going to react to seeing you in one bed with Minho.
Minho has his hand resting on your stomach like he's trying to hold you down, not letting you go anywhere even though you're under the cover with him, chatting with Agnes who's occupying the next bed with Jai.
Maisie is the first one to see that her number one guy is on the bed with someone else, she glances away and is left with no choice but to sleep with Jack tonight.
You don't have to look to know that she's throwing daggers at you with her eyes from across the room.
And Alia looks calm about it, she's going to sleep with Luca anyway. Perhaps, she's switching onto his lane tonight.
"No one breaks the rules tonight!" Bryan remarks.
There's always that one guy who's going to protect the money but it's a surprise that it's going to be Bryan.
"Be good!" He warns once again as he looks around the room.
Something about being reminded not to do something though only encourages all of these horn dogs to do it.
You turn your head to see Minho and can't tell what he'd likely do. With most men, you can easily tell everything about them but Minho... he is uncharted territory but it's a good thing that you're eager to explore.
-
YOU: Minho is so perfect and I feel the need to violate it.
-
You're usually jealous to see anyone prettier than you but not with Minho.
Instead of being jealous, you want to admire him, and worship him like a divine being he is. You hesitate to touch him because it doesn't feel real to exist in the same space and time with him.
It's getting dangerous now that the lights are out and anything can happen in the dark.
He turns to lie on his side and face you, with the dim light coming from the sleep lamps you can see his eyes are open and looking at you.
You reach for his hair and put the strand away from curtaining his forehead, "Are you going to be good tonight?" You keep your voice low as everyone else is going to sleep.
His hand finds your waist under the cover and then he answers, "I don't know."
He then slides his hand to the arch of your back and using all of his strength, he pulls you close until your body is against him.
Brushing your hair to the side, he then brings his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "We'll see."
His vague answers only make you feel uneasy but your chest is overflowing with excitement that you can't sleep, even when you're sleeping, you feel alerted with every movement of his body against you.
In the middle of the night, he disrupts your sleep with a gentle kiss on your neck. He then slides down the strap of your tank top so he can place kisses along your collarbone.
The quiet in the room is filled with the rustles coming from this bed as Minho hovers above you, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head.
You believe he specifically chooses this time to see if you can keep it quiet as he places kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss leaves a searing mark on your skin with a few low moans slipping past your mouth.
You don't even try to break away from the hand pinning your hands by the wrists but can't stay still as he's teasing you more by kissing you all over your face, except your lips.
He teased you earlier by only licking your lips and by doing this, he wants to see how far can you go and see if he can make you push the limit.
Minho is a fucking sadist but what can you do when you get pleasure in pain?
He lands his lips so close to your lips that you reflexively open your mouth, ready to return his kiss but he retracts himself, you can see how pathetic you are from the way he's looking down at you.
"Are you going to be good tonight?" He asks you back, then loosening the hold around your hands.
Minho is turning the table back, leaving the decision whether to rule break or not to you.
In that case, he was wrong to think you'd be afraid to be the first to rule break.
-
YOU: Well, I mean... [bites lips] I've never been a good girl anyway.
-
That half-smirk of his is mocking you but he looks so damn attractive whenever he does that.
You hate losing but for this one time, you're going to like it.
"You fucking tease," you mutter to him, putting your hand on the nape of his neck and bringing his head close.
The bad wins tonight and you can feel the burn as both of your lips touch and clash in a blazing kiss that sets your body on fire.
You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies, your breasts squashed between your chests.
You kiss him hard and deep, making the most of it knowing that it will cost you money. Your hands are tugging at his soft locks.
His tongue skillfully parts your lips open and invades your mouth, deepening the kiss to get as much taste as he can. He is one phenomenal kisser and even if you had to die of asphyxiation, you don't want to stop.
However, you still want to live to play this game with him and he seems to have the same plan by the way he slowly pulling away. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss.
You land soft pecks on his cheek and neck, turning his head to the side, You whisper "I let you win tonight," then playfully bite his ear.
-
YOU: And just like that, we're the first to break the rules in the retreat.
-
"Good morning!" Agnes cheerfully greets everyone the second the lights are on.
"Morning!" You mumble your reply, still feeling sleepy with how little you slept last night.
Bryan pinches the bridge of his nose and scans everyone to spot any guilty faces, he looks even bigger topless next to Zara who owns a model body.
"I really thought I was dreaming that I'm in Too Hot To Handle," Agnes innocently shares.
You softly laugh at that and indirectly, at the satire of your own life. You turn to look at Minho, looking so beautiful even when he's just woken up from sleep.
"How about you?" You put your leg over him under the cover, rubbing his shin with your toes.
"Did you dream a sweet dream?"
Minho slouches down on his pillow, looking like he's about to go back to sleep, "It was sweet but it wasn't a dream."
He casually says that like it wouldn't bring back the recollection of how the two of you kissed last night and you're not going to lie, it gets you wet just thinking about it.
-
YOU: Waking up next to him, the first thought that comes to mind is our kiss last night. Gosh... it was so fucking hot.
-
"Didn't you say you like Jack?" Zara asks the second both of you are out of everyone's earshot.
"But I didn't say I only like him," you playfully respond.
She giggles in amusement, "You're a trouble. I like it," she says.
Working out with her at the beach, earning you some tips and exercises you can to get her perfect body figure.
"You got some real competitions though," she says while doing a minute-long plank.
You're running out of breath but manage to answer her, "So?"
Zara chuckles again, "You're not afraid you're juggling two men and going against two girls at once?"
When she puts it like that it sounds like you're creating a problem for yourself. In this retreat, you can't just do whatever you want without getting the consequences considering that you're locked in with them for the next few weeks.
"Well... I like Minho more," you tell her and drop to the mat as one minute has passed.
"Yeah?" She asks for further details.
"But he makes me second guessing everything," you concisely explain.
You turn over and cover your eyes to shield them from the morning sun, "with Jack, it's easier. I don't have to think around him."
Zara turns to start doing side plank, "You're not looking for a good pet here!" She playfully scolds you.
You laugh and follow her lead to do the same, "Unless Minho likes someone else then he's my number one right now."
Zara gently slaps your butt, almost sending you toppled to the front, "that's a good girl!"
-
YOU: It's only day two and the options are still open but I know what I want. I want Minho.
-
It's convenient that the dressing room is empty at this time with most of everyone already dressed and dolled up for the day.
"Did anything happen with big boy Bryan last night?" You slyly ask while she's putting her fake lashes on.
She lets out a long sigh in response and slaps her spatula on the table, "What do you expect from an accountant?"
It all makes sense now. Bryan is an accountant, he thinks about the money more than treating his girlfriend with a smooch.
You burst into laughter and stop applying mascara, "hate to say it to you but you chose the wrong guy to be in the show with."
She glares at you from her table then looks back in the mirror, "he chose to play the good cop so that leaves me no choice but to play the bad cop."
"Ooo..." you coo, impressed with her determination to make Bryan break the rule with her.
"If you need a smooch, just know that I will give it to you in a heartbeat," you tell her with a sly smile.
Luca walks in on you applying sunblock on each other's body and he refrains from getting to his locker.
"What did I walk into?" He confoundedly asks.
As Zara bends down against the table, you lather sunblock on her ample butt then slap at it, entertaining the sole spectator in the room.
Luca is too stunned to speak that he's just standing there with his locker door open, "Damn. Do that again!"
The sight that welcomes you as you walk out of the house is of Minho in the pool with the Maisie and you owe it to her to give her a chance, making it a play fair.
You turn the other way and decide to sunbathe on the lounger with Alia, chatting about some good skincare products since she's done some beauty ads.
After a while, you see Agnes and Jai walking back from the beach. From the way Jai is grinning from ear to ear, you can tell that they did something that cost some money.
"Hey, girls," she innocently greets you both and sits on the farthest lounger.
"Hey," you reply then exchange a look with Alia.
She seems to also get the same impression and straightforwardly asks Agnes about it, "Did you just spend some money?"
Knowing that she has a bad poker face, Agnes licks her lips and stifles a nod.
"Oh, no..." Alia sighs and picks up her water tumbler from the floor to take a sip.
You see Jai is joining Luca and Jack in the pool, it's only about time that everyone knows someone has broken a rule and the others will soon take their turn.
-
YOU: They just didn't know that they're not the first to break the rules, eh? [bites thumb]
-
Zara packed a lot of outfits with her and you get to borrow one.
"I'm going to look so hot Bryan can't say no to me," she remarks.
You must admire her confidence and it's indeed looking good on her, you should have some on you as well if you want to win this competition.
The night is cool with a warm breeze blowing from the sea, carrying the salty air ashore. It's so easy to locate Minho since he's the only one that always catches your eye.
He's wearing a white shirt with the three top buttons open, exposing his chest muscles, and sitting with his legs spreading open.
You feel like dropping to your knees between those muscular legs and... you push the thought away. You focus on the mission you have to do.
One of the things you like about Minho is that he doesn't waste time, he's straightforward and that's what you're about to do, going straight to business.
"Calling for me?" You poke fun even though he doesn't say anything but sipping his drink by himself.
The sofa can fit three people but Minho's thick thighs are looking so comfortable you can't help yourself to sit on them.
"Do I look good?" You take his hand and put it on your waist.
"Not bad," he answers.
He reclines on the sofa, head tilting upward looking at you and that way, you can admire his beautiful face from the top, inexplicably never getting tired of it.
There's no need for words when you can see everything in his eyes, the way he's intensely staring into your eyes with his thumb lazily rubbing the arch of your back.
The tension is there and it's electrifying, you feel alive when you're with him.
"I like your eyes..." you say as you put your hand on his jaw and your eyes drop to his lips.
Minho softly laughs because he knows you're looking nowhere near his eyes when you say it. He puts a finger under the thin strap of your dress and twirls it around his finger.
"I like yours too," he says back as he's undressing you with his eyes.
-
YOU: God! I want him and I'm going to get him.
-
Putting your hands around his neck, you draw him close and put a few inches of safe space between your faces.
Pfft, it's not like it's going to stop you from breaking the rules.
"Are you going to be good tonight?" You ask.
"I haven't decided yet," he shortly answers.
You lean into whisper into his ear, "If you're good then I'll give you something as good later."
Now Minho knows what you mean by being good. That he won't let anyone turn his head or get tempted to break the rules with someone else.
Knowing his nature, you doubt that it will not stop him but it's worth trying. He got a taste of it last night and there's a big possibility that he wants more of it.
You softly kiss his cheek and take his glass of drink from his hand, not hesitating to take a sip.
Let's see how the night goes.
-
YOU: I think it's going to be a good night.
-
Too much confidence isn't good either.
You feel a little bitter when you see Minho openly flirting with Alia just a few feet away from you. A moment after that, he talks to Maisie.
You scoff because he decides to turn it into his game and you know what?
You feel like making him sweat a little, especially with Jack sitting across from you and checking you out long enough that you can't ignore it anymore.
You lay on your side and decide to tease him a little, "Nice shirt!"
His mouth curls into a sly smile, "Nice body!" He shamelessly compliments you back.
Agnes comes into the scene and sits on the sofa, letting you rest your head on her lap.
"How about me?" She asks.
His smile grows wider, "You two are on the top of my list!"
"Really?" Agnes asks in curiosity as she drags the letter R.
He points at you and says, "I'm obsessed with you but I think you know that."
"Whoa!" You respond in awe, surprised by how daring and blunt he is.
-
YOU: I'm not going to lie but I like the attention Jack is giving me right now.
-
You make a space between you and Agnes, patting it as you tell him, "Come sit here!"
Agnes folds her legs on the sofa and also tells him to come, "We're not going to bite unless you want us to," she says.
Jack, like the puppy he is, hops onto the sofa and sits between you and Agnes.
You lean in close to his side and put one leg over his thigh, slipping your hand into his brown, curly hair.
"Not sure about some bites but Jack wants some kisses," he confidently demands like the two of you would easily give it to him.
Agnes looks at you and you look back at her, in a few seconds of eye contact you know that she wants to do it, she shares the same chaotic energy with you.
"Jack wants some kisses, huh?" You childishly talk to him.
Jack turns his head to look at you and puckers his lips.
"Only if you say please!" You tell him.
"Please..." he pleads by adorably dragging the word.
You grab his chin and lean in to kiss him which he eagerly returns with so much passion, trying to show you what he got.
Not wanting to give him too much, you pull away from the kiss and say, "Agnes is a better kisser," you jokingly say to bruise his little ego.
"Yeah?" He says with an eyebrow raised.
"Why don't you try yourself?" You dare him.
Jack turns to the other side and Agnes doesn't give him one second to prepare himself, showing him how to get it done. You take your drink and sip it while watching them kiss in front of you.
-
YOU: I kissed Jack not because I have a feeling for him. We're just having fun [shrugs]
-
It was an eventful night.
Even though you have no idea what Minho did the rest of the night, you don't want to think too much about it, especially after what you've done behind him.
Thankfully, Lana hasn't announced any rule breaks yet and you can sleep in peace for tonight.
You walk to the bedroom in heavy steps and hate that you're feeling scared that Minho suddenly decides to sleep with someone else after being busy flirting with everyone the whole night.
You never know with him and this time, there's no excitement, it's just anxiety. You push the door with your shoulder and find the bed is still empty, you reckon he's still washing up.
Jack flashes you a smile as you get under the cover and it's only making you more anxious. You get startled when the bed shifts as Minho climbs from the other side.
Since he's not that cuddly of a person, you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and snuggle close to his side, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.
"How was your night, my beautiful man?" You ask, your hand gently rubbing down his clothed chest.
"Good," he replies, twirling his finger around the thin strap of your black tank top.
"I can make it better," you whisper, lowering your hand down until your fingers meet the waistband of his boxer.
He looks at you and one corner of his mouth raises into his signature half-smirk, "No one is stopping you."
Bryan catches the two of you being suspicious and points it out at everyone, "Hands where I can see them!" He orders.
Instead of complying, Minho shoves your other hand under the cover and keeps them there.
"Minho, man, come on!" Bryan hopelessly scolds him.
It's in the dark that Minho once again starts his exploration.
He pulls you by the waist until there's not an inch of gap left between your bodies, you perfectly mold into his body as he spoons you from behind.
As he presses his lips on the nape of your neck, his hand traces the side of your body, stopping on the back of your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there.
"I've been good tonight," he whispers to you.
You softly chuckle, not expecting that he'll be asking for what you promised him.
Without turning, you softly slip your hand in his hair, "Really?"
He places a long peck on your jaw, "mmh."
You turn to lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your head, leisurely looking at his beautiful face in the dark.
The plan was you're going to tease him just like he did with you the other night but after what you did and the assurance you got from that misbehavior. You want to show him that you don't want to play a game tonight, or ever again.
Tenderly, you caress his face and hold his jaw as you lean in, kissing him so slowly yet passionately. Minho seems to sense that there's something different about the kiss.
He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there as he returns the kiss to you, his other hand is slipped under your tanktop, splayed on your back with his thumb faintly rubbing the skin.
If only breathing wasn't necessary, you would keep kissing him.
You pull away and press your head close to the side of his head, placing little kisses on his jaw.
"That's money well spent," you comment.
He turns his head to face you and it only entices you to kiss him again but immediately refrain out of the fear of being head-locked by Bryan's giant arms tomorrow.
You sweetly kiss his cheek and lowly mutter, "Goodnight!"
Minho glides his hand up to your neck and looks at you, "Goodnight!"
-
YOU: Honestly, I wasn't thinking of Minho when I kissed Jack but after it happened, it only got to me then that I really like him.
-
When you wake up, anxiety dawns on you.
You feel sick in the stomach when Lana chimes in and lights up in the corner of the room.
"Good morning, everyone!"
You silently plead that Lana would not drop the news this soon. Not when you just woke up from a nice, long sleep with Minho cuddling you all night.
"Morning," you meekly answer with a yawn at the end and accidentally meet Agnes's eyes on the next bed, exchanging a knowing, uneasy glance.
"Today's weather will be sunny with highs of 82⁰ Fahrenheit and there will be zero chance of sex."
Jai breaks into laughter and puts his arm around Agnes's shoulder, "She's fucking quality, she is."
The day barely started, you can already tell it's not going to be a good one. You're counting down the minutes or even seconds until Lana tells everyone all of your sins.
-
YOU: I'm a bit on edge. Not a bit actually. I'm on THE edge.
-
Even after a session of yoga with Alia, doesn't help you relax at all.
You've done this plenty of times before, going from one casual partner to another in the blink of an eye and never feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. You don't know what changed when you're playing the same game and the only difference is that you're doing it with Minho.
It's after you showered and are immersed in the girl's talk while doing your make-up you finally can have a little peace.
"Have you cracked big boy Bryan yet?" You ask Zara.
Zara carefully swipes the brush on her cheekbones to apply some highlighter, "Girl, as if!"
"That big body comes with a tough personality too," Agnes comments, squinting her eyes to draw a neat line of black eyeliner.
"When we cuddle in bed, he locked me with his arms to make sure I didn't do anything," Zara rants, borrowing your pencil liner without asking.
"You should be grateful that he didn't headlock you to sleep," Alia chimes in as she braids her hair in front of the mirror.
You and Agnes are breaking into laughter at the same time.
That's when Lana decides that it's time for judgment. The cone chimes, startling everyone in the dressing room.
"Hello, girls!" She says.
Zara fans her eyes as she just puts on her fake lashes, "What's up, Lana?"
"Please gather everyone to the cabana!" She orders.
You exchange a knowing and uneasy glance with Agnes as your heart is beating out of your chest. Every step you take to get to the cabana is getting heavier the closer you get there.
There's a space next to Minho on the sofa but sitting next to him will only make you more anxious. You sit in the middle between Luca and Maisie, it's safer to be out of Minho's sight.
"I wonder who kissed who?" Luca asks with a haunting tone.
-
YOU: Counting my own mistakes, I know for sure that I broke the rules three times [shakes head in disappointment]
-
Your concern is not the money.
You believe someone else broke a rule or two as well. For example, everyone knew about Jai and Agnes's kiss at the beach.
Also, you're not afraid to admit the ones you committed together with Minho, it's the other ones that you're not proud of.
The sickening sound of Lana coming online makes your heart drop to your stomach.
"Hello, everyone!"
You can't find it in you to reply to her and awkwardly smile in response while everyone else is weakly returning her greeting.
"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to. Those rules forbid sexual contact."
Even though Lana is a high-tech virtual assistant, you can hear in her voice that she's not pleased with everyone.
"Despite this, yesterday, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of $21,000."
There is a mix of shrieks, gasps, and curses happening all at once. Well, at least, now you know you're not the only one spending the money.
"You guys are blowing it," Alia says in disappointment.
"In total, there were seven rule breaks," Lana shares further details.
-
YOU: I contributed three out of those seven rule breaks but who did the other four? [squints eyes]
-
"Time to fess up!" Bryan calls the shot.
Everyone is looking at each other and trying to see any guilty faces. After a while, Minho points at you and calmly says, "I kissed her twice."
Now, that's a man. Minho doesn't falter as he owns up to his misdeeds and even says that it was he who kissed you when in fact, you were the first one to cave in to the temptations.
Maybe it's because of how fast Minho comes clean about it or it could be because of how overwhelming for him to know that two rules have been broken, Bryan only sighs and then moves on to find where the rest of the money went, "how about the other five?"
You gulp air again and pass the turn to someone else. Jai has the worst poker face he can't keep himself from grinning, "We did too," he says while half laughing, "You guys knew we did it on the beach once and did it again last night."
Agnes is looking down on her lap as Jai admits everything and adds an apology at the end, "I'm sorry, you guys!"
Bryan closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter, "Okay then, anyone else?"
Luca who's sitting next to you suddenly raises his hand, "I kissed Maisie last night," he confesses.
That is not what you expect and you're aware that you're getting in between them by sitting there. You didn't know Maisie had given up on Minho already.
"Just once!" He quickly adds.
Maisie even backs him up right after, "We shared a moment and we wanted to see if there's chemistry."
That shocks everyone but Bryan seems to give him a pass for only breaking one rule. Not sure what he'll do when he finds out about the last two rule breaks.
Agnes has been avoiding everyone's eyes and you don't expect much from Jack, he's staying quiet because no one suspects anything because he's harmless and the youngest.
-
YOU: But I have to be honest, right?
-
"I kissed Jack," you blurt out.
There's a long pause then Zara snaps her head in your direction, "What?"
Luca laughs next to you, "Look at him, sitting there all quiet," he says and keeps laughing afterward
A grin blooms on Jack's face, maybe it's the grand scene that he's been pictured in his head that he's not what everyone thought he was.
"Well, it's obviously because I like her," he shortly explains.
He rubs his chin and continues speaking, "And I don't regret that one if I'm being honest."
You've been avoiding looking at Minho's direction but you get the urge to see his reaction, not sure what you're expecting but he looks strangely calm about this.
When he's about to look your way, you hurriedly look away though.
You turn to look at the other culprit who's smiling like an angel next to her guy and you can't go down on your own.
"Agnes!" You call and wait until she looks at you to say, "You kissed Jack too!'
"WHAT?" Zara gasps and then covers her mouth, her eyes widen in surprise.
"Why did you do that?" Bryan asks since she's sitting close to her.
Jai who's sitting next to her looks not pleased at all, leaning back with his hands balled into fists on his sides. You would love to see Minho get a little upset too but when you glance his way, he looks not bothered at all.
Now that the offenders have admitted their crimes, Lana can announce the damages done to the prize money.
"I must also inform you that with these multiple rule breaks that happened in the last 24 hours, I have been left with no choice but to double the fine as of this moment."
Bryan's face drops onto his big hands and brushes his head to the back, making his combed hair disheveled in a second.
"Which means $42,000 has been deducted from the prize fund."
There are moans and groans of complaints but there's nothing anyone can do except try to keep their hands to themselves from now on.
"No more spending!" Bryan remarks, crossing his muscular hands together to form the letter X.
Everyone else is nodding in agreement but with almost a quarter of the prize money lost in one day, you're not the only one feeling pessimistic that there would be money left at the end of the retreat.
-
YOU: That means I spent $18,000 in one night? Whoops.
-
What makes them think that doing bondage in a workshop would help to take your mind off sex?
You're not sure if that's what the workshop is going to be but you see the waxed ropes and that's the first thing you have in mind.
"Today, we're going to learn Shibari," the guest sex expert announces.
"An ancient Japanese technique used to improve intimacy and trust in relationships," she shares with everyone.
Minho and you have no problem with intimacy but with what you've done recently, it seems that Minho is likely to have a trust issue with you.
"It's a bit more risque but it really does teach people how to trust which is the foundation for any long-lasting relationship," the expert further explains.
"Have you guys ever played with bondage, handcuffs, or any type of restraints?" The expert asks.
A few raise their hands in pride and you see Minho as the experimental type, always open to everything. You don't see him raising his hand, he's too busy shielding his face from the sun.
You take the first turn and can't decide which one you want to do, you haven't done this. Picking up the smaller rope in red color, you decide to do the simplest one called the Hand Prayer tie.
Minho doesn't need to be told, he puts both hands together in front of him and lets you tie rope around it.
"It goes around the middle fingers," he instructed.
As expected, Minho knows how to do this. It's a piece of information that both excites and scares you but in the best way.
After a lot of errors, you are finally done and not impressed with how you didn't tie the rope tight enough that Minho has no problem taking it off without your help.
-
YOU: Oh, yep, just exactly what Minho needs right now: tie me up.
-
"Are you ready?" Minho asks as he takes the bigger rope in the color black.
Now that he's about to tie you, you suddenly get a little nervous too.
"No," you answer with a low laugh.
He starts by turning you around, making you stand with your back facing him, not allowing you to see which knot he's going to do with.
"Hands to the back," he orders with his head looming on your shoulder.
You comply right away, putting your hands to the back.
"Shibari is based on power play. When you're the person with the rope, the rigger, you're actually the one who is surrendering and trusting your partner," the expert says as she walks around watching everyone tying each other up.
That's what you're going to do, you're going to trust Minho and he'll be having too much fun with it but he'll do nothing to hurt you.
The second the rope brushes with your skin, you feel a chill down your spine and when Minho pulls them, tightening them around your wrists, you let out a low moan.
Once he's done with the hands, he tidies the ends of the rope before instructing you to lay on your stomach on the mat
You're getting even more nervous as he bends your legs to the back and ties them together.
"Too tight?" He asks.
You test the knot by twisting your ankles together but it doesn't budge at all, "mmh," you hum in answer.
"Good," he calmly responds.
If this is his way of getting back at you then you just have to accept it. You should be grateful that he doesn't tie the rope around your neck.
He then brings your hands and legs together, tying them with the rest of the rope. He pulls at it to make sure the knot is securely tied.
You try to wiggle your body and try any way you can to break away but it's a fruitless effort, you're running out of breath from lying on your stomach for too long.
Minho notices and helps you to turn over, but your hands are now pressed under your body as you lay on your back.
"I can't get out of this," you tell him as he stands, towering over your body.
"No, you can't," he says with a malicious grin.
Minho then lays next to you on the mat, scoots closer to shield you from the sun, and then props a hand under his head as he enjoys watching you helplessly lying next to him.
"You're enjoying this," you say.
That's a wrong thing to say because he hasn't started yet. He picks a flower from the plant near him and uses it to caress your body, dragging the soft petal down the front of your body.
He knows that it does things to you and he can see it from the way your chest is heaving as the flower reaches to your lower abdomen.
Your legs are slightly shaking as he drags it lower and then stops right on the elastic band of your bikini bottom, tugging the flower there.
-
YOU: I must say it's the best kind of punishment. I don't even think it's a punishment [winks]
-
"Why did you kiss him?"
You know that Zara has been waiting to ask you that from the moment she found out about it.
You dab your face with a layer of foundation to get ready for the night, "I don't know. I was having fun."
She gives you a scolding look and tips her head to the side, "Girl!"
"I know but at that time I was feeling like... You know, it was so easy to break the rules," you honestly answer because you did feel that way.
There was nothing intimate about the kiss with Jack, if anything it was selfish of you to spend money on a meaningless kiss. You can see now how foolish you were for doing that.
"But instead of upset, I am so jealous of you," she says with a sad sigh.
You get quiet because you know how hard it is for her to even try to tempt Bryan to break the rules with her.
"He didn't even let me cuddle him," she adds.
It's a good thing that Bryan wants to be on Lana's good side but he disregards Zara's opinions about it, putting her needs aside which makes him just as selfish as you are.
-
YOU: The plan is I'm going to look hot, be a good girl, and talk to Minho. Wish me luck [Crosses fingers]
-
Taking a glass of drink to fuel your courage, you check if Minho is in a good mood before coming and start talking to him.
"Can I sit with you?" You ask for his permission when you usually would plop down next to him without asking.
He glances up and nods, "Yeah."
Minho doesn't talk much and you should be used to his short, concise answers but it seems a little different tonight, there's an edge to it.
You sit next to him and put a space in between, "You look good tonight," you compliment.
Minho is indeed looking good tonight. That's why he model, because everything looks good on him but you bet that he looks better with nothing on.
He tips his head to one side and looks at the dress you're wearing, "You too," he compliments back with a thin smile.
A little attention is better than nothing. You sweetly smile and mutter, "Aw, thank you!"
Before you forget your initial reason because of just one compliment, you remind yourself that you come to talk.
"So... how are we feeling?" You ask, testing the water before diving right into it.
"About what?" He innocently asks.
You lick your lips before answering, "About the kiss."
"Which kiss?"
Your palms are getting sweaty on your lap. It's like whatever answer you're going to give him would be a wrong one.
"Our kisses or...?" He asks again because you stay quiet.
You take a breath and try to slowly explain everything, "I think the kisses we shared are special. I can see that we have chemistry and connection."
He tilts his head low enough to give you the stare, "If that's so then why did you kiss someone else?"
You keep your calm and answer, "That kiss with Jack, it was nothing. I don't have any feelings for him so you don't have to worry about that."
Minho responds with a nod but no words come out of his slightly parted mouth.
-
YOU: I usually just walk away from a situation like this and stop caring about it but I want to make this work with him.
-
"Are you mad at me?" You ask because that's what you're dying to know.
He's been too calm that you start to think that he probably doesn't like you to even care about it but he only replies with a shrug.
"I don't want you to be mad at me because I do like you," you tell him to get an answer out of him.
He stares at you and makes you wait in anticipation to get a response from him. After a while, he leans back on the sofa and says, "We'll see."
You usually like the mystery those words bring whenever Minho says that but not this time.
"'We'll see'? What is that supposed to mean?" You ask in pure confusion.
"I need time," he answers.
You scoff and try to process his answer, "You want me to sit around and wait for like what? A week? Ten days?"
He slumps down the sofa and spreads his legs, casually he says, "I need time to get over it so until then... We'll see."
-
YOU: I kissed Jack because I saw Minho flirting with the other girls so why am I the only one having to wait for him to come around?
-
"Okay," you meekly say even though you're not sure that he'll get over it before the retreat ends.
You think that this is possibly his way to keep his options open or maybe that your fear is true, he doesn't like you that much. You just like to play games with each other.
"Are we still going to sleep in the same bed?"
"I don't know," he replies.
This is probably the right time to cut everything off before you get too attached to him when the options are still wide open and who knows that Lana will bring more guests to the retreat, there are many possibilities so why do you have to trap yourself in such a confusing situation and wasting your time on one guy?
You look away and shrug, "Okay, alright."
-
YOU: If Minho doesn't want to give me what I want then I'll just have to get it from someone else.
-
You're not tired but you're so ready for bed. You brush your hair quickly before going to the bedroom.
You don't look around but going to Jack's bed, you put the duvet away and say, "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight," you tell him.
He looks taken aback but awkwardly follows you as you climb onto the bed you shared with Minho for the past two days.
Agnes is giving you the questioning look but just like everyone else, they don't say anything but let the drama unfold.
You get under the cover with him and turn to the side to look at him, "Are you cuddly, Jack?"
He pauses for a moment then says, "I am."
"I love good cuddles."
"Yeah?" He asks with a gleeful grin and eyes that are filled with hopeful glints.
"Of course."
-
YOU: I told you, Jack is my cute boy toy.
-
You slip your hand in his curls and play with it, at the same time, watching the door because Minho can come at any minute now.
"Your hair is so soft," you comment.
The door swings open and Minho steps inside, stopping on his track for a second to see that someone else has taken his spot.
The brief look he gives you is enough to make you gulp air, he's saying nothing but has to share a bed with Alia.
The silence is suffocating as everyone watches intently every gesture or expression on either you or Minho to get any hints about what's happening between the two of you.
Their eyes are going back and forth because your beds are facing each other.
"Don't you feel a little hot, Jack?" You ask.
"Uhm..." he hums as he thinks of an answer to such an easy question, "I think so."
You sit on the bed and look in Minho's direction, not necessarily seeing him eye to eye. You take your top off, not caring that this will be broadcasted all over the world and everyone can see your tits.
"Oh... fuck..." you hear Jack curses under his breath next to you.
Minho takes a sip of water from his tumbler and you can see that his jaw tensed as he swallows his water.
Once the lights are out, you get under the cover and turn to the side to face Jack. For someone who kissed two girls at once, he's playing safe by keeping his hands away from you.
You lean in close to his pillow, "How was your day?"
He rakes his brain to answer another simple question, "Can't complain," he answers.
You giggle because of how cute he is, how oblivious to the fact that you're using him to make Minho jealous. When you think about the kiss you shared with him, he isn't that bad of a kisser, he was too excited at that time to focus on using his skill.
You kind of want to give him a second chance so you lean in closer and ask him, "What do you think about spending 6 grand tonight?"
-
YOU: We'll see? No, Minho. You'll see.
-
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azsazz · 6 months
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Midnight Muse
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1,804
Notes: This is going to be a good one you guys 💙 (yes I know I have a fic titled this already but it’s too good not to reuse, they’re not related btw)
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“I think that’s the last one,” you sigh, setting down a cardboard box labeled Living Room on the stack in the middle of the floor. It’s not heavy—filled with decorative pillows for the cheap futon couch shoved haphazardly against the wall—but the tower of boxes sways precariously and your roommate, Feyre, darts forward to reorganize them from before they all go tumbling down.
You and your roommate had been very organized at the start of your move, putting boxes into piles for which rooms they belonged to, but as the hot sun beamed down and the temperature outside rose, so did your tempers. The process ended with trying to get everything into your new fourth floor apartment as quickly as possible, which was a nearly impossible feat, due to the slow moving elevator.
Feyre sighs, hands on her hips as she surveys the mess of boxes. Neither of you packed lightly—a mistake you’d made the year previous too, and promised not to make again—the both of you refused to hire a moving service, intent on the fact that you could do all the heavy lifting yourselves. 
That definitely had been a mistake.
Panting a little, Feyre shoves the strands of gold-brown hairs clinging to her forehead away, sticky with sweat. The hairs at her nape curl away from her neck, and you’re so glad that she grew out those awful bangs over the summer. Now you don’t have to listen to her complain about how they’d be plastered to her head with sweat. The loose collar of her cropped shirt is damp, and she uses the hem to wipe at the perspiration beading at her hairline. “Fucking finally,” she moans, “I need a drink.”
“Alcoholic or energy?” you tease, but it’s not funny. You’re drained, and all you want to do is collapse on the navy futon that barely fits two, no matter how uncomfortable it is. But you’re hot, clothes irritating your skin from where they’re glued with sweat and your arms and legs burn with effort. A cold shower, tall glass of something icy, and a few hours napping will do you well. A grimace works its way onto your red face, “Tell me there’s air conditioning in this place.”
“Already on,” Feyre sighs, stalking into the kitchen. You follow after her, dodging boxes, and watch as she rips open the refrigerator door and shoves her head inside. It’s completely empty and you wince, knowing that it’s going to be a long weekend while you go shopping and unpack everything before the fall semester starts in a week.
You want to stop by the local art supply too, to gather the last of the material you need for your classes this year. It’s probably why you and Feyre have so many boxes; half of the ones adorning your apartment are stuffed with art supplies: brushes and paints of all varieties from oils to acrylics, graphite pencils and kneaded erasers, canvases both blank and filled. You swear there’s even an entire box dedicated to sketchbooks filled with random doodles and scribbled ideas for assignments that never turned into anything great. Feyre hadn’t been happy when she’d seen you’d left that box for her to carry up.
When Feyre’s had her fill of the crisp air, she hands you a bottle of water from the freezer. It’s nowhere near as cold as you’d like it yet. You’d run into the gas station to get a few bottles and candy bars while she filled up the tank of the U-Haul for your last stretch or the drive. It hadn’t occurred to either of you to grab something with more sustenance until this very moment.
“Ugh,” you groan, choking down the room-temperature water. It helps a little to soothe your parched throat, but nowhere near enough. “Do you have any money left in your account? We should Door Dash something for dinner, and call it an early night.”
“An early night?” Feyre retorts, making a face as she takes a sip of her own water. “We have a lot of unpacking to do. And our beds aren’t even set up yet.” 
“Fuck us,” you sigh, leaning against the marble. The stone is cool where it seeps through your thin shirt, and you ache to rip off your clothing and press your burning skin to it in an attempt to cool yourself off. “Let’s just find the boxes with the pillows and blankets and sleep in the living room, Fey. C’mon, it’ll be like when we were young again! Except now we’re old enough to buy alcohol.” You waggle your eyebrows at your roommate and she cracks a wry grin. “Well, almost old enough, but those fake ID’s Tarquin got us work like a charm anyway.”
“Fine,” Feyre relents, “Dibs on first shower, though.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
While Feyre uses all of the hot water, despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside—blasphemous for the end of August in the middle of Southern California—you take the chance to move the U-Haul from where you’d double-parked it outside of your new apartment building. Thankfully, you and Feyre had saved up enough money from working at an Art Camp for children this summer to have both of your cars shipped to school. It was cheaper to rent a truck and move all of your belongings yourselves than to drive down and let a moving company do it, plus, you and Feyre had wanted to road trip this summer but didn’t have the funds. You both had decided there was no better time for it—until you could properly afford one—than this.
You scroll aimlessly through your social media on the way down, the elevator so slow and creaky that you and Feyre opted to take the stairs for most of your journey. Bigger things like your beds, the futon, and the tv had been squashed into the tiny elevator and taken up with prayers it wouldn’t break down. You can’t help but glance up at the certificate that says the elevator is in running order until its next inspection in two years. 
“Is that forged, George Brown?” you mutter, squinting at the paper displayed in the corner. It’s frayed at the edges and yellowing, so you’re not all that sure this elevator has been inspected when it says it has.
It comes to a jerky halt that makes you sway when it hits the lobby. It’s as nice a building as you can afford on your budget, but the both of you will have to find part-time jobs as soon as school starts up, so that you have money to buy alcohol and food and supplies. Feyre’s older sister, Nesta, had lived here with her friends Gwyn and Emerie during their undergrad years, but they’ve moved on from shitty apartment buildings riddled with horny college students to renting a quaint house in town while working on their masters degrees.
When the doors to the elevator slide open you slip out as fast as possible, a shudder working its way up your spine. You wonder how many times it’s broken down, and you’d hate to be in there alone if something like that happened. Maybe you’ll take the stairs from now on unless you’re with someone.
The lobby of the building is small. There’s a front desk in which no one ever sits, as if the building used to be sophisticated once upon a time and a doorman used to occupy the space. Mailboxes pinned to the wall line the area behind the counter, and there sits a garbage can stuffed full with envelopes and more likely than not empty bottles of alcohol and take-away, maybe even a used condom or two.
It’s muggy down here, more so than your apartment that the landlord hadn’t turned on the air conditioning when he knew you’d be showing up today. Whatever, you hadn’t had to see the greasy man, he’d left the keys on the counter for you and Feyre to find when you’d arrived, and you were more than thankful for that.
You brush away some of the hairs that have come loose from your ponytail as you cross the lobby. The hazards of the U-Haul are blinking at a steady rate, the skies turning darker with the looming night. It had taken you and Feyre all day to unpack the truck, and you’re returning it tomorrow when your cars come in, so you need to move it to a normal spot for the night. 
Pushing open the door, your steps falter as someone brushes past you like a shadow, nearly hitting your shoulder with theirs. Your brows furrow and you turn to toss a comment about how rude they are but the words dry up in your throat. 
He’s tugging off a motorcycle helmet and you can’t help but watch the way his biceps bulge against his skin tight black t-shirt. The muscles of his broad back glide like butter beneath the fabric as he moves and you can’t help but let your gaze travel down his spine to his tight waist, dipping into dark jeans.
His thick soled boots thump loudly as he stalks through the door, stopping at the mailboxes to check if he has any letters. The tiny door opens with a squeak that has you snapping back into your body, stunned by his musculature. This man is a god of his own league. A masterpiece of perfectly crafted body parts and tones. He has an angular nose and long, dark lashes matching his disheveled hair. He runs his fingers through it and shoves the helmet under his armpit as he digs through his mailbox. Your fingers twitch to dig out your sketchbook and pencils from the box upstairs.
You force your gaze outside again, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. You were straight up ogling the man, and thankfully you’re not drooling, as you take notice while you wet your suddenly dry lips. 
You click the keys, unlocking the U-Haul, but stop short when you see that the truck is caged in, a big vintage Bronco parked behind, and a shiny motorcycle that looks like it moves faster than the speed of light wedged between the moving truck and the vehicle in front.
“Hey,” you call, ripping the door back open to the lobby. You have no doubt that the motorcycle is his, and the car behind had been there when you and Feyre had arrived this afternoon, so you don’t know whom it belongs to. “Is this your motorcycle?” 
The man is already on his way to the elevator, phone stable in his leather riding gloves as he swipes, envelopes tucked into his helmet. The elevator door screeches open and he doesn’t even bother to turn around and meet your gaze as he punches the button to his floor. “Nope.”
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lewisvinga · 3 months
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west coast | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.
warnings; mentions of drinking
notes; he’s so sexy , i know my goat is gonna look sexy asf in that ferrari red
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs
word count; 1.3k
‘born to die’ series masterlist.
f1 masterlist !
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“I’m sorry, Lewis. It’s for the best and you know this.” Y/n wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks as she holds on tightly to her suitcase filled with her closeness.
Lewis lets out a disappointed sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she had to finish her degree which meant everything to her. But finishing her degree meant she couldn’t follow him around the world anymore. It meant that they needed to have a break.
“I know, it’s just…”
“Hard being away from each other.”
“Yeah.” He responds with a deep chuckle. “Honestly, I got this feeling like it all probably would’ve happened later if we waited more. Probably would’ve been worse.”
Y/n slowly nods her head in agreement, not trusting her voice to respond for her. She leans down to gently pet the top of Roscoe’s head. The dog seemed to know what was going on since he refused to leave her side.
She gives the dog one last pat on the head before standing back up, giving Lewis a sad smile. “I guess, it’s time for me to go. See you around then?”
“Yeah, see you ‘round.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“This isn’t your usual club.” Y/n mumbles as her best friend drags her into what she thought was a normal club. Y/b/f laughs, hooking her arm with the confused girl.
“It’s an exclusive club! Celebrities and big names only. And it’s L.A., there’s gonna be many people here.” Y/b/f explains with a smile. Due to being a well-known influencer, she was let in along with Y/n who had a known name due to a previous relationship.
“Now, drinks?”
“Y/b/f, I have to study for an exam all day tomorrow. No can do.”
“If you’re not drinkin’, then you’re not playin’!” Y/b/f exclaims over the loud music as they make their way to the bar. “C’mon, I know you’ve got the music in you. Don’t you?” She adds with a smile.
Y/n let out a sigh before a smile crept up on her lips. “Just one drink, Y/n. Just one.” She knew that it wouldn’t be just one. She knew that she’d wake up with a hangover but it was Los Angeles, she couldn’t miss the chance to party in Los Angeles.
“Perfect!”
2 hours later, Y/n was already drunk and returning from the bathroom. She was stumbling out of the bathroom and was suddenly met with a familiar scent. She sobered a bit when she glanced up and saw those big brown eyes that she once and still adored.
She could feel herself heating up from seeing him a couple of months after breaking up with him. Her skin was basically hot to the touch. “Lew-Lewis.” She says with wide eyes, still tipsy.
“Y/n…” Lewis says in a soft tone. He was quickly as shocked, as seen by the way his eyebrows were raised up high. “H-How have you been?”
“Uhm, great!” She quickly says, standing up straight and fixing her short dress. “Was able to take enough classes this semester to graduate. Actually- you didn’t ask that. Ignore that. I- How about you?” The alcohol in her system made her rant a bit but it made him let out his signature laugh.
“I’ve been great too actually.” He replies with a smile, nodding his head. She noticed how his hair was styled differently. He opted for dark brown braids as opposed to the honey brown, a color she suggested a couple weeks before splitting.
“Your hair…” Y/n trails off, “It looks really nice.”
“Thank you. I mean, you suggested it so I decided to try it out.”
She smiles and nods before a silence falls over them. They both wanted to say something else but couldn’t figure out what to say. Although she was just months away from graduating, her heart still longed for him. And even if girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, he only wanted her.
“Y/n, I miss you.”
Panic fills her mind as she hears the words she has been wanting to hear. She wants to say that she missed him so much but something keeps her really quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still tipsy and wants to get drunk like she’s a lush. But in a panic, she blurts out, “Gotta go! Y/b/f is calling me!”
She turns around and runs back to where her best friend is sitting in a panic and with wide eyes. She sat down next to her and covered her face with her hands. Y/b/f was talking to an athlete when she noticed her friend's panicked look.
“What's wrong?” She immediately asked, focusing more on her best friend than the guy beside her.
“Lewis is here,” Y/n says with a sigh, grabbing Y/b/f’s drink and taking a long sip. “I need a drink, come with me.” She added, standing back up and grabbing her friend's arm, dragging her to the bar.
Another hour had passed and the club was getting hot. A little too hot for Y/n’s liking. She could feel her blown-out hair starting to frizz up, her mascara was slightly smudged in the corner of her eyes, and she felt hotter than fire. She needed to go outside.
Fortunately, she noticed a balcony outside before entering the club. So, she followed a set of stairs by the bathroom which led right to the grand balcony. There were a few people there, some with drinks and some with parliaments on fire in hand.
Before she could open the door, her eyes landed on once again, a familiar set of crinkled brown eyes and a wide smile. Her once sweet boy swayed along to the music. Maybe it was the fact she had more alcohol in her system, but she wanted to go up to him.
Y/n takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the balcony. She didn’t realize how hard she had opened it until she saw him look right at her. The person he was talking to backed away, immediately recognizing her.
She slowly walks over to him, her heels clicking along. “Lewis.” She quietly says once she stood in front of him. He stood up straighter as his eyes furrowed up in confusion.
“Y/n-“
“I miss you too.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I mean, yeah, but you made me panic when you said that,” Y/n sighs, fiddling with the gold rings on her finger. “And now I’ve had a lot more to drink and it gave me the courage to and I know it’s stupid. Missing you when I was the one to end things for my studies, which have been going well anyway. I’m about to graduate and I still miss you, Lewis. I thought that my desire was to settle down to finish my degree but it wasn’t. It’s you I desire.”
Silence fell over them for a minute. She immediately began to regret everything she said. The regret caused her to sober up again. She opened her mouth to apologize but before she could, Lewis pulled her closer by her waist and kissed her plump lips.
Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, finally getting what she wanted, what they both wanted. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers and keeps his hands on her waist.
“Come back to me, love.”
“Lewis, I’ll go running back to you any day.”
Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle before leaning back a bit. He wore a smile so wide that he couldn’t even bother trying to contain it. “How about we get out of here?”
Y/n’s smile matched his as she nodded in response. “I like that.” She whispers, grasping his hand. Looks like down on the West Coast, things will actually turn out alright.
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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months
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She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton
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Pure fluff.
Sequel She's here and she's not only ours (+1k)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +1k
a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.
The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday. 
The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.
She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.
But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.
As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.
She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.
“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal
“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.
“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.
It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.
The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.
It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.
His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.
You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.
Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.
To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.
You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.
As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.
“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.  
“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.
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