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ladyveronikawrites · 1 day

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Scar - Chapter Five

PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)

What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?

Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.

CW: none, just dadomens trying to find momomens

happy bday jolly💛

Masterlist

word count: 2.3k

Sam’s chest tightens as Jolly’s carefree laughter fills her car. It feels like an eternity since someone other than Lyric was sharing the front seat with her, let alone another man. She tried the online dating thing– but with her crazy work schedule and Lyric’s after-school and weekend practices– it doesn’t leave her much time for dating.

“So how long have you lived here?” Jolly’s sudden and intriguing question softens the pressure in her chest. No other man has asked me that before.

“I grew up here, but left when I graduated high school,” she sucks in a shaky breath as she continues. “Fate would have it that I would come back when James did; we always knew we wanted to raise a family here.”

“James sounds like a really great guy and a wonderful father to Lyric,” Jolly says softly as Sam pulls into the hotel parking lot.

“He was the best at everything,” she confesses as she pulls her SUV into the nearest parking spot to park. “The best father, the best handyman around the house, a supportive husband…” Jolly watches as her green eyes shimmer bright before a tear wells and cascades down her cheek.

Swiftly, he unbuckles slipping from the seat belt to lean closer to Sam. His hands hesitate as he ponders if she is comfortable with him touching her but when he catches the small nod he moves in to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with a gentle brush of his thumbs.

“Thank you,” her whisper fills the space between them.

He would give anything to take away her pain and sorrow, but all he can muster is a small smile that he hopes conveys how he feels. As Jolly begins to pull away, he finds moist lips pressed against his. He tenses to the touch at first but when she parts her lips for him, he’s done for. He leans in, mouth hungry, tongue ready to explore more. He licks at her bottom lip, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. And he stops. Shit, what if I went too fast? What if I misread the signs? Wait, did she actually kiss me?

Something stirs in Sam when Jolly touches her face. His hands are so warm and comforting that the tears she was holding back finally break. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in her stomach as Jolly leans forward; the scent of him overwhelms her senses. Before her brain can stop her heart, she leans. His warm lips against hers sparks electricity down her spine. She can’t get enough. She melts into Jolly when he runs his fingers through her strands. His tongue is moist against her bottom lip and she is more than ready to let him in. Her lips still burn when he abruptly pulls away. When her eyes pop open she finds Jolly with a pained expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Did I overstep?” His thick accent accentuates the concern in his voice.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam reassures the Swede with a smile.

Suddenly, the tall guitarist yawns, stretching as best he can in the small space, causing Sam to do the same. “Wanna go up to my room?” With a shy giggle and a playful punch to Jolly’s arm, Sam agrees.

Jolly opens the door of his room with a sweeping gesture of his arm, “Welcome to my crib.” His husky tone turns into a snicker when Sam smacks him in the arm as she steps by.

“You’re a dork,” she huffs a laugh as she enters the room.

“I know,” he winks at her before threading his fingers to hers and leading her further into the room. There’s a large white bed against a navy blue accent wall and across from it hangs a flat-screen TV. An L-shaped couch fills the space under the window next to the bed.

“This is where the magic happens so make yourself comfy, Sam. There’s water and booze in the mini fridge and the TV remote is on the bedside table. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She makes a small noise in understanding but doesn’t move from the window as she takes in the view of her small hometown. The shrill of the tap turning on pulls her from her nostalgia so she makes her way to the bed. She steps out of her beloved Converse, settles into the covers, and starts to scroll through the TV guide.

Loud knocking stirs Sam awake. Rolling to her side, something digs into her stomach. Her eyebrows scrunch together when she finds the remote strangled in a death grip. Way to go, Sam, you fell asleep clutching onto the remote, like an old grandpa.

Groaning, she slides out of bed and stretches rubbing her neck. Fuck me. I’m going to need to see my chiro on Monday. I hope she can squeeze me in. God, I hope Jolly doesn’t think I’m lame. Wait, did we kiss-

“You’re awake!” Jolly’s bright voice breaks through Sam’s post-nap brain fog. When she turns her head following the sound she gets lightheaded. Swaying slightly, she grips the arm of the couch and settles herself onto the furniture, hoping Jolly didn’t notice. If he did, he was gracious enough not to say anything as he continued. “The guys are heading out to see a movie, want to come?”

“Sure!” she says without hesitation, ecstatic to spend more time with Jolly. But soon insecurity takes its rightful place in the pit of her stomach. “But let me fix my hair real quick,” she rushes by him, nerves bubbling in her stomach– but when Jolly grips her wrist, it’s not forceful, but just enough that she stops dead in her tracks. The setting sun casts a warm glow on Jolly’s long brunette hair forming a halo of light around him.

“You look beautiful, Samantha.” Jolly takes a step closer closing the space between them. He tucks in a lock of hair behind her ear before brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Sam feels her cheeks warm to the delicate touch and finds herself leaning into him. Looking up at him, his expression is soft- the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her. She sneaks a glance at his lips and back at his eyes hoping he didn’t notice. She wants him to kiss her, wants to feel more of his touch, wants to feel love again– but her old heart is so scared. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as Jolly leans down, willing her eyes shut she balls her shaking hands into fists. “Stay”, she tells herself “don’t run.” His hot breath is warm against her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from her chest– suddenly she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey lovebirds, you two ready?” Noah yells from the other side of the door. Sam’s cheeks flame red at the nickname and she curls into herself overcome with shyness.

“He’s an ass, isn’t he,” Jolly chuckles squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Her small smile spreads into a wide grin, “yeah he is.” He pulls her into him and she unfurls her arms to hug him back. For a few breaths, they remain as her heartbeat steadies, the scent of him soothing her senses and her nerves.

“Ready?” he hums as he twirls his fingers in her hair.

“Yeah,” she says softly pulling from the embrace. This time she doesn’t stop herself from threading her fingers into his as they walk to the door. When the pair reach the lobby Sam finds the rest of the band lounging on various couches and chairs and Matt is pacing.

“The Uber is late,” Matt groans pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll drive!” Sam chimes in as she squeezes Jolly’s hand despite her insecurity still looming in the back of her mind.

Matt stops dead in his tracks, “Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” she lets go of Jolly’s hand to walk past Matt. “Come on.” She waves over her shoulder for the band boys to follow her. Jolly meets up with Sam to open the car door for her. Before he ducks out he pecks a kiss to her cheek. She giggles as she settles in the driver's seat.

“Alright boys, buckle up please.” She grins, looking up at the rearview mirror as Matt, Noah, Nick, Nicholas, and Bryan pile In. A mutual groan rumbles through the car. “Yes mom,” they grumble and groan in unison.

There are a scattering of families and couples in the theater as the pair stroll in behind the rest of the guys. Sam is about to slide in beside Nicholas when Jolly grips the back of her elbow causing her to stop.

“Come on,” he nods his head to the top dark corner row of seats which happen to be vacant.

Butterflies dance in her stomach as they ascend the dimly lit staircase. It’s impossibly warm when she sits down and Jolly follows suit, their knees brushing together when he hands her, her drink. Sam takes a few sips hoping the soda will quench her thirst and give her some relief; unfortunately, it does not.

As the opening credits start, Jolly’s heart pounds in his chest as the opening credits start. He’s been waiting anxiously for this movie for as long as Nicholas has been ranting and raving about it. The one show all of them seemed to like and a tour favorite, so when Noah mentioned the movie, he could only hope that Sam would want to come too. In the corner of his eye, he sees her start to fidget with the popcorn bag nervously. Absentmindedly, he places his hand on her thigh as the scene starts.

Sam busies her hands by eating some popcorn, almost too aware of how she chews, she grips the bag a little tighter when suddenly Jolly’s hand rests on her thigh. Her body tenses to the touch. She wants to say something, to ask him to move his hand, but instead, she goes against every fiber of her being when she sets down the popcorn and places her hand on his.

“Oh, sorry,” Jolly jumps slightly when their hands touch, pulling his hand away. When Sam looks up at him, concern furrows his brows and creases the corners of his eyes. His eyes look nothing like her late husband’s and at this moment Sam has come to terms with it. She finally gives in to what her heart has been telling her all along. The pads of her fingers graze his cheek and for a few heartbeats, they exist in the space between them where nothing else matters. Her gaze drifts to his plump lips and back to his eyes.

She nods, silently saying Yes! Please! I want to kiss you! Before pulling him in closer, their lips just barely touching. Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips onto his. When Jolly kisses her back, it’s soft yet cautious. She tilts her head, clasping his head between her hands to pull him in. A giggle erupts from her throat when his stubble brushes against her cheek, making Jolly pull away slightly. He puts a finger to her lips just as a nearby shh echoes from a few seats away.

Jolly leans in, “I have a way to keep you quiet,” he whispers in her ear, his hot breath and suggestive tone send a shiver spider crawling down her spine. His lips ghost her cheek before replacing the finger to her lip. She invites the heat of the kiss, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as his tongue parts her lips. When the pair are both breathless, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. He kisses the tops of her knuckles before they find their resting place on his thigh. The world melts away in their soft embrace, hands entwined and hearts beating as one.

Sam blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the theater lights flickering on. Sure she has no idea what happened in the movie, but she couldn’t care less as long as she was next to Jolly. She doesn’t know what will happen next between them and right now she’s okay with that. Jolly gathers their trash and she follows closely until she can slide her hand back into his. When they reach the other guys outside, she spots them climbing into their Uber. Her stomach drops when the reality hits her that Jolly will be leaving too. She can’t help when a lump forms in her throat and her eyes prick with tears.

“It’s time-” Jolly stops dead in his tracks when he spots the tears cascading down her cheeks. Before his feet step off the curb he turns and pulls her in tight, arms wrapping around her waist.

“I got you,” he says low and calm as she starts to shake. “I don’t want this night to end either, Samantha. These last few days have been some of the best days on tour and I can’t thank you enough. This is not goodbye, ok?”

He pulls back to wipe away her tears, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Smile, pretty girl,” he smiles when she giggles and pink washes over her cheeks. “We play only a few hours away tomorrow and I snagged you VIP if you want to come. I know it’s a school night but I still wanted to offer.”

Sam doesn’t hesitate when she wraps her arms around his neck in excitement. She knows she will be dead tired come Monday morning-thankfully just an in-service day before the end of the school year- so she can show up a little late.

“Yes, yes I’ll be there!”

“I can’t wait!” Jolly leans down for one more kiss. “Good night, Sam.”

“Good night, Jolly,” she says before kissing him back. She watches as the full moon illuminates his path to the others. She smiles to herself, smitten- a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long.

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luv444bellingham · 2 months

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ONE OF YOUR GIRLS . // jude bellingham.

PARING. poc!reader x situationship!jude.

IN WHICH. she tries to get him jealous, but he snaps harder than she predicted.

WARNING. unprotected sex, poc reader, dirty talk, hair pulling, praising, public bathroom sex, porn with a plot, and more. (my big debut yall,,)

WORDS. 1.4k

heart racing, she picked up the drink the stranger offered her— taking quick side glances at the tall frame in the corner. Her and jude had gotten into an argument back in the car, and she couldn’t help but feel petty wanting to piss him off.

What really was pissing her off was that, currently, he wasn’t even looking their way. She took a sip of the alcoholic beverage and leaned in closer to the man. He looked to be around her age, but he wasn’t nearly as kept up and good looking as jude. He droned on and on about his car dealership and the amount of money he spent on his own vehicle, never bothering to ask anything about her.

no matter. she just wanted jude’s attention.

she rubbed her fingers up and down his bicep as he spoke with a smirk, casting another glance toward the corner about a minute later she bit the inside of her cheek catching the sly glance he took toward her, he was playing her game, she wasn’t finna loose.

still, watching him rub up on some white girl got her all riled up and irritated, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep playing.

“Why don’t we go back to your car?” She whispered softly, placing her glass down on the counter, “you sure?” nodding her head they both rose from their seats and began to pivot through the crowd when her eyes stopped on jude’s frame, feeling up on the girl’s ass as they locked lips.

She wanted to go over there and slap the bitch but decided against it, instead she shouted — “i have to use the bathroom,” over the loud music that was now playing. She just needed to find an excuse to break from the man and go gather herself privately. Perhaps stop herself from committing a murder.

entering the restroom she dug in her purse to retrieve her phone with an aggravated expression on her face, the door flew open making her phone fall from her hand which only added to her annoyance, “what the hell,”

“My bad, mama.” Rolling her eyes she bent over to grab her phone and face a smirking jude. His eyes roamed her figure and face, “what, you started it!”

"I don't care, let me out—" he grabbed her waist, pushing her back against the sink, "don't be like that." He whispered against her neck as he leaned into her. It was clear how drunk he was now, his sluggish speech and that subtle smell of vodka. She rolled her eyes, gripping his shoulders as she allowed herself to be placed against the edge of the sink.

he whispered the lyrics of the song playing as he brushed soft kisses against her skin, stopping to nibble against her shoulder and grip her thighs. Her skin flushed as she realized she was getting the attention she’d been after the whole night. Everything else went out the window, including the reason she was mad in the first place.

“You mad at me?” He chuckled to himself, moving down to her exposed cleavage. His lips parted as he pulled the front of her dress down flicking her nipple with his thumb eliciting a shiver from the other — “shut up,” she demanded and he smiled, “yes ma’am.”

His tongue drew a shape over her left boob as his continued to massage the other, eyes looking up as she leaned her head back against the mirror, swallowing thickly. His fingers rubbed up and down her leg teasingly, stopping just below the bottom of her dress. despite his seemingly unbothered expression, he wanted nothing more than to tear her out of it.

he would. Just not now.

“spread your legs fa’ me.” She obliged, parting her thighs rather quickly, moving gently against his fingers as they snaked up closer to her pussy. She couldn’t wait any more, and he could tell she was growing impatient with him, just like she’d been irritated with him just a few minutes ago. He would make it up to her.

Jude’s thumb circled her clit as his lips engulfed hers, tongues fighting for dominance. She arched off the sink as he pushed one finger into her wetness. She wanted to ask him for more, but wasn’t gonna make him think he was forgiven.

his finger entered in and out of her at a faster pace as her slick acted as a lubricant, she gripped the edges of the sink when he added one more finger, his thumb prodding her cunt to no end. She bit her lip as a wave of pleasure washed over her and she let out an accidental whimper.

“Hmm, get up.” Jude kissed her cheek as she hopped up, he turned her around so that she could see herself in the mirror, disheveled and needy— his hands went up to her boobs again as he began to knead them desperately.

Her boobs were one of his favorite things about her, how they seemed to spill out of any top she wore, how pretty they sat. He had a fixation on just playing with them any chance he got. Worshipping her.

he finally went back to rubbing her dripping pussy other hand holding her chin to make sure she didn’t stop watching herself.

“that feel good, hm?” she slowly nodded, whimpering at the sudden loss of his digits again— however as she heard the jingle of his belt, she was more than happy.

He bent her over the sink hearing her hum softly at the cold of the sink pressing up against her front side. She played with her hardened nipple as his fisted his dick for a few seconds, before teasing her entrance. “You can take it can’t you— this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Her lips parted as his tip pressed teasingly against her hole, “fuck,” he slowly entered her from behind, his hands on her hair moving her back against his cock.

“C’mon ma, help me out.” He grunted.

She arched her back, her breath quivering as she struggled to take him all despite initial confidence.

he lifted her head so she could watch herself as he pounded into her at a steady pace. Being with a football player continuously paid off. He could last quite a while, and wouldn’t stop until he knew she felt good.

“Watch yourself, baby, while you take me.” Her eyes fluttered open as she came close to finishing just at the sight of him watching himself disappear inside her.

Her moans found their place at the back of her throat, practically choking her as he slammed into her. It was bizarre; the groans and the peculiar sound of skin clashing mixed with the music playing in the party that was literally right outside the door . The world seemed to move around them, but time stood still every time he hit that particular spot, the one that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back.

“Jude,” she whined and moaned, almost like a plea. He responded with a grunt of his own, manhandling her as he felt her cunt clench around him. He guided her hips back against him quicker, the steady sound of skin clapping growing louder as each got closer and closer to finish.

she pushed herself back against him as he stopped for a second to clench his jaw and reposition, jude clicked his tongue quietly and without even looking up at their reflection, she knew there was a half smirk tugging at his lips. “Dirty girl.”

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl, taking me so well.” She heard jude babbling further words of praise behind her, but her mind wasn’t focusing, too wrapped in the pleasure that was filling her body, threatening to spill. The noises jude was making only seemed to prolong the aftershocks of her orgasm, his soft whimpers and grunts only making her pussy ache even more despite how sensitive she was riding out her finish as her juices squirted out of her. She was certain this wasn’t a one round kind of night, and feared for when they actually got home.

He fucked his cock into her a few more times before his hips stilled, pressed flush to her ass as he came, painting her insides it filling her up so much it was already leaking from her. His forehead thudded heavily against her back, quiet whimpers filling the bathroom as his cock pulsed. He shifted his hips and she whined, clenching around him purposefully, wanting him to fill her.

“Better now?”

“Fuck you.”

#jude bellingham #jude x reader #luv444bellingham #jobe bellingham #bellingham x reader #madrid spain #jude bellingham smut #central cee #smut with plot

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fandomunite2107 · 3 months

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Meeting Carmy

Meeting Carmy at a family party that he was hired to cater.

Finding a hiding spot at this anniversary party was not as easy as you thought. There were people in almost every room with drinks in their hands, all catching up with family that they haven’t seen since in a while. With it being January, it was too cold outside to stand on the patio, though hypothermia isn’t looking too bad at the moment. You love your family, you really do, it’s just after hearing Uncle Billy’s fishing stories for the third time and your great aunt trying to match you up with everyone she knows, it’s a been a bit much. Work today wasn’t bad, but dealing with teenagers is draining on anyone, and rushing to get ready and coming to this party makes for a long day. You at least look nice for the party tonight. You had just enough time to do your hair and find matching shoes and jewelry for your outfit.

Finally, you’re able to break away from your cousin telling you about her newest remodeling project at home and are able to make your way into the kitchen. The door swings close and for a moment it’s silent. You can still make out the voices from down the hall, and from the sounds of it it seems like Uncle Billy found someone else to tell that fishing story too. Walking around the kitchen island you look out the window over the sink to see that snow has started to fall outside. You set your drink that you have been carrying down on the counter and take a deep breath.

“Yo. Watch where you’re going.” The door to the kitchen swings open. Really needing some quiet time and not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment you slip down the island onto the floor, hoping that no one sees you and disturbs the moment of peace that you found.

“What the hell? Is uh there a reason that you’re on the floor ?”

Looking up, you see a man in a chef’s uniform, realizing that he is a part of the catering staff that was hired for this party.

“I needed a break from that,” Waving your hand in the general direction of the noise. “Am I in the way? I’m sure there must be some room in the pantry if I move some things if you need me to.”

“Nah, um it’s fine for now.”

“Y/N! Are you in here?” Hearing your great aunt coming into the kitchen, you try to motion to the chef that you are indeed not here at the moment.

“Oh. Hello young man. Have you seen my niece? Her name is y/n. She’s about this tall. Wearing a dress.” My aunt directs these questions to the chef.

The man slides his eyes down to you before he shakes his head. “Ah. No ma’am, I haven’t.”

You smile and relax a bit on the floor. Looking up to the man you take in his appearance, realizing that this man is so much more than attractive.

“Oh, well. If you do could you tell her that I gave her number to one of the young men at my church who is single. She should be getting a call from him soon.” You bite down on your bottom lip trying to stifle a groan. You love your great aunt, but really why does she always feel the need to set everyone up. “How old are you?” You shake your head as your aunt asks the question, continuing to look at the chef. “You are very handsome and you seem handy around the kitchen. You and my niece would make a nice couple. I’ll give you her number.” I hear my aunt open a drawer and shut it, moments later hearing the sound of paper tearing. “Here. You call her. You two would make beautiful babies.”

“Um, thanks?” The chef seems dazed as the door closes behind my aunt. “I. That. That was interesting.” He says as he pushes his hair back from his face.

Standing up from the floor, you turn to face the chef. “I feel like I should properly introduce myself now, especially after all that. I’m y/n.” You extend you hand out to him.

It seems as if he is trying to hold back a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Carmen. You can call me Carmy, most people do. My restaurant was hired to cater. Your um. Your aunt is something.”

You let out a short laugh. “Yes she is. Sorry about all that. Thank you for not blowing my cover. This is all a bit embarrassing. You don’t have to keep my number.” Pointing to the paper that your aunt wrote your number on, which is lying by a cutting board.

“You don’t want me to have it?” Carmy tilts his head to the side.

Feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “What. No. I just. I. There was talk of babies and people at church. It’s a lot for anyone. I was giving you an out.” Please stop talking and making this worst you thought to yourself. Why does he have to be so good looking? It’s becoming too distracting to look at him.

“I don’t think I want an out.” Carmy says as you heart skips a beat, which now you know is actually a thing that can happen.

The door swings open to the kitchen revealing your great aunt. “Oh y/n there you are! I see you met this handsome chef. He’s handsome isn’t he y/n?”

“Oh. Ah, yes very handsome.” You say looking at Carmy, noticing a bit of a blush on his cheeks.

“I will leave you two alone. I already gave him your number y/n” My aunt nods at the paper with your number on it before she leaves through the kitchen door again.

“Oh my god. I’m sorry. This is a lot.” You cover your face with your hands, after a moment you move your fingers so that you can peek through to look at Carmy, seeing him smile at you.

The door to the kitchen opens again, this time revealing another member of what you assume is the catering company.

“Hey, Chef. Everything is looking good out there, but we’re getting low on the appetizers.” The man sets down a tray on the island and seems to realize that Carmy is not alone. “Oh, who’s this cousin?”

“Here take this tray out and refill the appetizers. I’ll start getting the rest of the trays together.” Carmy hands a well filled tray to the other chef, who exits the kitchen, but not before he gives Carmy a smirk nodding at you.

“I should get back to the party” You say as you don’t want to be in the way of him working. “It was nice to meet you Carmy”.

“Yeah. You too.” Carmy says though he’s too busy getting back to work to look up at you. You pick up your drink that you set down earlier and head to the door, looking at the chef once more before you leave to get back to the party.

The next hour or so you mingle with family members that you haven’t seen in a while. The party is nice and you do end up having a good time catching up with everyone. The food is excellent and anytime you hear someone mention the food you smile knowing that Carmy had a hand in making everything. As the party winds down, you think of heading back to the kitchen just to see him once last time, but every time you come close to doing that you chicken out thinking Carmy might find the intrusion annoying if he’s working.

After another half hour of mingling, you decide that it’s time to head home. You say your goodbyes to everyone and put your coat on before leaving the house. As you’re heading home you hear a notification come through your phone, looking down you see an unknown number had texted you. Opening up the text you see the message: Hey. It’s Carmy. Must have missed you before you left.

Smiling and feeling giddy from the message, you type out a response.

#carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear hulu

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heembie · 17 days

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𝐁𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌! ₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

𖦹ׂ 𓈒 🐇 જ⁀➴ riki helps you dye your hair on the floor of your bedroom, but did you really have to pick that color?

nishimura riki x fem!reader; wc 1.8k; genres pure fluff, established relationship; cw none; notes i edited a riki selca for this drabble who’s gonna congratulate me!!! + i listened to magnetic by illit 5000 times while writing

there’s a knock at your door, gentle, and then it’s swinging open, a chestnut colored blur with the tall, lanky figure of your blonde-haired boyfriend appearing behind it.

“‘kay, i got it,” he murmurs, slipping his shoes off and padding with socked feet over to where you’re sprawled on the floor of your bedroom. you push down against the carpet with your palms, groaning with the effort of having to sit up from the comfortable position you’d been in. riki sits down next to you, crossing his legs.

in his hand is a box of l’oreal hair dye, a light bubblegum pink. he fiddles with the packaging a little, his eyebrows furrowed as he tears the top part of the box off gently. you reach over in excitement, tongue poking out as you take the box from his hands and pull out the packet inside.

“it’s gonna look so cute,” you gush, reaching for the small extra bowl you and riki had brought into your room earlier when you’d bleached your hair. you’d long since opened the windows, the acrid smell of the bleach almost completely faded. it had been risky work, what with the running risk of dropping bleach onto the carpet, but you’d managed to pull through.

riki glances at you from the corner of his eye, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“i still can’t believe you want pink,” he murmurs, watching as you tear open the packet and pour the color into the bowl. he makes a face at the small mountain of rosy paste, the strings of his large, plush hoodie twirled around his finger. “it’s the worst color ever.”

you pout at him, handing the bowl to your boyfriend as per the usual routine.

“i think it’s pretty.” you maneuver your body around so that your back is facing riki, your freshly bleached hair freed from any elastics. “you don’t think it’s gonna look good?”

there’s a little sigh, and then you feel hands in your hair, pulling out a section at the bottom of your head and tying the rest up with an elastic. riki reaches into the bowl of color with a bare hand, ignoring the brush (he stopped using it after the first couple times he’d done this for you in the last years), and takes a small amount onto his fingers. a moment passes, and then he’s raking the color into your hair, tugging ever-so-gently at your scalp as he massages the dye into every last strand.

you hum contentedly, allowing the boy to help you as you fiddle absentmindedly with the fabric of his socked foot. he wiggles his toes—an action that he knows you find adorable despite its childish implications—causing a giggle to float out of your chest. sunlight from your open window beams against your face, yet it somehow isn’t as warm as your boyfriend’s presence behind you.

“since it’s you,” he starts, leaning closer to squint at a strand before thumbing on an extra bit of color, “it’ll look good. even if it’s pink.” he says the last part a bit downcast, eyes trained on the (no doubt sickening, in his opinion) pink bowl of dye sitting between his legs. the words come out like they’ve literally taken years off of his life, to which you’re only able to roll your eyes fondly.

a couple more minutes pass, and riki’s about halfway done with your hair. you’re rocking side to side, humming the tune to a random song as he works. eventually, you decide there’s no better pastime than to annoy your boyfriend.

“how much do i have to pay you to get you to say i chose the perfect color?”

there’s silence, and then riki is snorting, putting his hands up to your head again to massage slowly against your scalp.

“don’t push it.”

a smile creeps onto your face. your eyes flutter shut to the comforting feeling of his fingers in your hair, breathing in slowly through your nose.

“name a currency. dollars? gift cards? new jewelry?”

he starts to laugh, then. it’s a tinkly sound that sets a nerve alight in your brain, bubbling and fizzing like a little can of sweet, syrupy soda. your smile widens, and even though riki can only see your back, you’re sure he knows.

“i’m trying so hard not to call you an idiot right now.” his own smile is apparent through his voice, a lilt to it like he’s fighting to keep the corners of his lips down.

a warm feeling spreads in your chest. you have so much adoration for the boy carding pink fingers through your hair, from his way-oversized hoodie to his wriggly toes. it’s taking all the strength you can physically muster not to lean back and get hair dye all over the both of you, just to be wrapped in his embrace.

“what about kisses?” you supply cheekily. riki pauses, his hands stilling in your hair. after a moment, he says:

“...i can be persuaded.”

he pulls his fingers from your hair at the same moment that you start to turn around, resting with your knees to the floor as you come face to face with your boyfriend again. he’s giving you his best glower—although it’s definitely more of a goofy cartoon rendition, at best. you giggle at him.

“hurry up,” he mutters, a pink flush to his cheeks as he eyes the dye plastered all over your previously bleached-blond hair.

you wobble on your knees a little as you crawl closer, fitting between his legs and bracing your hands against his shoulders.

“i’m about to give you the best kiss of your life,” you tell him, your voice dripping in mock seriousness. he squints at you, a smile playing at his lips.

“pink is the greatest color of all time,” he blurts, like the words are acid, his eyes closing immediately in waiting. you gaze at his face for a second, mapping his moles like constellations, your eyes drifting over his pouty lips and landing square on the tip of his nose.

where you’ll do it is no contest, really, because you’re leaning in to press a sweet butterfly kiss against his nose without much more than a split-second decision. he waits for a beat longer, eyes still closed, before he pops one open to reveal a confused brown iris.

“you cheated,” he deadpans, his face cupped in your hands. you brush a thumb over his eyebrow before letting go, backing away from him with a teasing smile.

“no i didn’t. i kissed you, like i said i would.”

“that wasn’t a real one,” he grumbles, grabbing your shoulders and maneuvering you around gently so that you’re sitting with your back to him once again. you laugh, the sound sticky and sweet in your chest.

“i didn’t know there was such a thing as a fake kiss.”

“whatever,” he replies, swatting at your shoulder with no force. “i didn’t need one anyway.” then there are hands in your hair again, slipping against your scalp to finish the final section near your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” you giggle, even though you’re not.

he finishes shortly, and you stand up on wobbly, slightly numb legs. you pad across your room, turning on the light in your bathroom, with riki whisking away the empty bowls you’d left behind and bringing them to your sink. he works on washing them as you slip into the shower, rosy rivulets of water running down your body like unicorn tears. you can’t help but to shiver a little, the cold water rinsing your hair sending goosebumps all across your skin.

riki hands you a towel when you step out, one that’s already stained with a myriad of different dyes from your past hair adventures. you towel up your hair, dressing quickly in the pajamas you'd been wearing while riki finishes rinsing off his hands in the sink.

when he turns around he’s squinting at you, pulling the towel off your head even as you protest weakly. your fresh, pink hair tumbles down, and riki chuckles to himself as he grabs a hairbrush.

the motions are familiar, the comfortable silence permeating the routine tugging at your heartstrings like gentle rain. the brush runs through your locks with sweet fervor, smoothing any knots that might have formed in the shower. in the end, your hair air-dries, the color in its final form a lovely shade of shiny pink.

“oh,” riki says, staring at you with a completely blank look on his face. but his voice sounds like he’d just come to the realization of the century. “it’s pretty.”

something about it—the way he’s a steely revelation of nothing, and yet he’s brimming with something like fond curiosity, is so completely riki that you could die. happiness surges in your throat, and the soda can in your brain pops open again, the same sugary sweet bubbles from earlier zipping off like little candied neurons.

“yeah?” you mumble, fighting to keep a wide grin from invading your face.

he nods silently, blond bangs flopping against his face.

“i told you, didn’t i?

he purses his lips for a second before his mouth is twisting into a smile, a quiet laugh tumbling from his chest.

“you did.”

you walk closer to him, giggling. he reaches out, letting you clutch at his forearms for balance. and then you’re smiling at him, and neither of you are saying anything but it somehow feels like you’ve said it all.

he shifts, cupping warm, bubblegum hands over your cheeks. the staining reaches just past his palms—like raw, honest evidence of the way he loves you.

and then he’s leaning in, bumping his nose against yours intentionally before hes titling a little to the right, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

his hands slip to the back of your head, blending in with your soft pink locks. as he kisses you, lips slotted against yours tenderly, his fingers twirl in your hair.

you break apart with shy smiles, heat in your face and a staticky buzz in your head. riki lips are pink, and he pulls his hands away from you to run them through his hair.

“transaction completed,” you giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“oh, shut up,” he replies, screwing his face up in gentle amusement, and then surging forward to tackle you with a hug.

.ೃ࿐

at the end of the day, when riki’s grabbing his stuff and getting ready to drive back to his house for the night, you decide to take a picture together.

he stands behind you, pink-stained hands wrapping around your torso to rest on your stomach. his head dips down to rest on your shoulder while you hold your phone up to snap a picture in the full-length mirror standing before you.

a lone, pink stripe of hair rests against riki’s face, a shock of color against the light blonde of the rest of his head.

he kisses you on the cheek.

click!

tags! @tyunni @vousty

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #riki enhypen #nishimura riki #nishimura riki enhypen #riki x reader #nishimura riki x reader #riki imagines #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen drabbles #riki drabbles #riki fluff #nishimura riki fluff #enhypen headcaanons

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xveenusx · 1 year

Text

Hate

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Two people hate how much they love each other

Authors note: get ready for some filty smut and toxic relationship Rafe

Rating: smut, 18+, mdni

Warnings: explicit mature themes, choking, spitting, hitting, dirty talk, etc.

Part 2: Love

_________________

“Oh I hate that man. I hate that man. But oh, cara Mia, how I love him.”

This can’t be happening.

Was the mantra that played in my head on a constant loop as I stared at the red dress that hung neatly in the closet.

Pougelandia seemed like a dream at this point. A beautiful dream that’s been shattered by the ever waking nightmare I’m currently in.

My heart lurched in my chest as I thought about my friends. I should have listened when John B and Pope told me to leave the pilot but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let that be another thing that happened to me.

Reaching my hand out, I let my fingers graze the fabric of the dress. It slipped through my fingers easily, the fabric clearly being the most expensive thing I’ve ever worn.

A shudder ran through me as I tugged the dress off the hanger and slipped it on. Pushing the hair out of my face, I let out a shaky breath and forced myself out of the room.

I wiped my hands nervously on the gorgeous ruby dress, swallowing down the hysterical need to cry.

My eyes danced along the gorgeous house that was my prison. Wood stained columns decorated each room with what I assumed were valuable artifacts on display. The wooden arch entry way had stained glass windows that caused hundreds of colored reflections to sparkle along each and every room.

Sliding my hand along the wooden railing on the stairs, I slowly made my descent, hoping that the knocking of my knees wasn’t noticeable. A maid greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, her smile soft as she held out her hand in the direction she wanted me to go.

“This way, miss.”

I tried to send a smile back but I’m sure it came off as more of a grimace.

“Would you like a drink?” She asked, stopping at a small bar cart to the right of an open door.

“Yes, thank you.” I cleared out, stumbling over my words.

I needed several drinks just to get through this.

The maid said nothing and simply placed a glass tumbler in my hand filled with dark liquor. I brought it to my lips and took a huge gulp, relishing in the burning sensation that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

It seemed to take the edge off and made the next few steps easier.

She motions for me to enter the room beside the bar cart and so I do, my fingers tightening on the glass.

Stepping in, I hovered by the door, taking in the room in front of me, and saw no one. Taking another drink from my glass, I shuffled further in at the sound of movement coming from the other side that was obstructed by the door.

A towering figure stood on the other side of the room, his back facing me as he made himself a drink.

My stomach tightened for some reason.

I took stock of just how well dressed this man was. His navy blue suit seemed to be tailored to fit his tall build and reeked of wealth. He was at least six foot and had an air of superiority around him. His presence almost seemed overpowering simply due to his height.

Tingles shot up my spine as something felt familiar about him.

Only one person has ever made me feel this way.

Pushing back the thought, I cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me?”

The figure turns around and our eyes connect instantly causing all air to leave my body.

His ice blue eyes widen for a fraction of a second before settling on my face. A soul penetrating stare that shook me to the core.

My grip on the glass loosened causing it to fall and shatter into thousands of pieces. Similar to how he left my heart.

Rafe Cameron.

He looked the same yet different. The eyes that I used to stare in night after night were intense and brilliant. They held hope for the future and were ironically innocent.

The man in front of me was different. His gaze had now hardened as though he experienced something dark. Those Arctic blue orbs were enigmatic and cold, no sign of innocence or hope.

The dark dirty blonde strands I once threaded my fingers in as an anchor while he kneeled in between my legs and drove me to ecstasy were gone. His hair was nearly buzzed down to the scalp giving him the appearance of a hard and refined grown man.

The once party hungry frat boy was gone, replaced by something much darker. Much colder.

The air around us was electrifying, almost to the point of suffocation.

Rafe stared down at me, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine, not one word being said.

But I knew exactly what he was thinking, because I was thinking it too.

Memory after memory played in my head causing my cheeks to turn hot. Him taking me on the counter with my legs thrown over his shoulder. Me bent over his bike as he ruthlessly pounds into me from behind, my long hair wrapped around his hand. Rafe pinning me down by the throat as he fucks me savagely on the top deck of the yacht.

I was practically vibrating at this point, a flash of heat hitting my center, throbbing and aching for relief.

I dragged my eyes away, needing to break the connection, ignoring the familiar rush of those intoxicatingly intense feelings that always came attached to Rafe Cameron.

A gold glint catches my eyes and for the second time today, I’m rendered motionless. Speechless.

On his wrist, familiar gold cuff links decorated the sleeved cuff on his shirt.

One’s that had my initials.

I couldn’t hide the pained look I knew painted my face. Of course, he would be behind this. There was no line he wouldn’t cross in order to get what he wanted.

I learned that the hard way. The only thing that mattered to Rafe was the gold and the approval of his psychotic father. That fact was just as painful to swallow as the first time.

Months later and he still managed to thoroughly destroy whatever pieces of me exist.

I hate this man. I hate this man.

My feet moved on their own accord stopping only when we’re less than a foot apart.

My hands clenched into fists and something inside of me snapped. Slamming them down on his chest, I let out a shout and shoved him as hard as I could.

I barreled into Rafe again, my hands hitting his chest as hard as I can but he doesn’t move an inch. His tall frame remained in place no matter how hard I tried to shove and hit him.

Frustrated, angry tears gathered in my eyes as I let out a distressed noise. “I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced by a cold dark look.

“Be fucking serious. Are you trying to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s going on?” He spat, his eyes narrowed as he bent down to my height until his face filled my vision.

An empty laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head at him with disgust,” Yes, I decided to fly to Barbados to come and ruin your deal because the entire world revolves around you.”

Rafe let out a harsh breath that made me close my eyes tightly. His entire smell engulfed my senses.

Peppermint, apples and expensive cologne whirl through my nose as my defective and traitorous heart pounds loudly in my chest.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A voice from the connected room mused.

At the sight of an unfamiliar figure, Rafe moved in front of me quickly blocking my view of the man. He made a noise and tucked me behind him.

Butterflies erupt at the move, pounding away at the wall I built around my heart. I peaked under his arm and saw a short man in a suit. His olive tone skin complementing his dark hair and groomed beard that decorated his face.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked, his stance never wavering.

I dug my nails into his suit jacket as I waited for a response.

“My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He answered, buttoning the front of his jacket.

“I apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here. Please come, I don’t bite.” Singh gestured to the seating area, an insincere smile on his face.

Stepping around Rafe, I cautiously look around the room before turning my gaze to him.

He subtly shook his head but I chose to ignore it and settle myself on the couch.

He didn’t get to tell me what to do.

Rafe’s eyes darkend as he muttered something harshly under his breath. Rubbing his head, he moves to where I sat angling his body slightly in between Singh and I.

“Rough tactics? What about me?”

“Ah, yes Mr. Cameron. False pretenses.”

Singh goes on a tangent describing some sort of treasure that I have no interest in and by the blank look on Rafe’s face I can see he feels the same.

“I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much longer you gonna keep philosophizing?”

His words were oozing with boredom as he took a seat next to me. The warmth of his body near me made me jolt.

Clearing my throat, I stood up and took a seat in a single chair, ignoring the chuckle from Singh and the glare from Rafe.

“You’re rather direct, aren’t you Mr. Cameron?” The look on Singh’s face was threatening.

My stomach dipped with nerves at the unspoken threat in his words. I opened my mouth, hoping to distract Singh,” What do you want with me and my friends?”

“There’s a diary. The diary of Denmark Tanny. It leads to the cross of Santa Domingo and since you and your friends had the cross, you must have the diary.”

That’s what this was about?

I could already see the question in Rafe’s eyes as he zeroed in on my face. I kept my face blank, knowing despite my desire to, I couldn't tell him anything.

Tearing my gaze away from his, I told Singh,” We don’t have the diary. I dont know where it is.”

Rafe’s face hardened. His jaw clenched in anger as he looked away from me. It was unsettling.

Singh was clearly displeased as he called out for guards, tsking under his breath. Two armed guards come into the room and stall in my direction making me fumble backwards.

Rafe shielded me immediately holding up his hand,” Don’t touch her. We’re cooperating.”

The men gesture the desired direction with their guns causing Rafe’s hand to tighten its grip on mine. Singh follows closely behind clicking his tongue against his teeth.

We’re forced into a bedroom. A bedroom only sporting one bed.

No. No. No.

“Please enjoy your stay. I suggest you convince her to tell you where the diary is. You should know that I am not so forgiving nor am I patient.”

The click of a lock had me turning around in panic. Rafe moved instantly, tugging the handle harshly but it didn’t give. He hit the door in frustration letting out a curse.

I was wrong. This was the worse thing to ever happen. Rafe and I being locked together, in a room, alone.

“Try again.” I demanded, my voice raising in hysteria.

“I already did. It’s locked from the outside.”

Pushing him out of the way, I called out while banging on the door. My grip tightly on the handle as I tried to pull it open.

My calls came unanswered. Despair filled every cell in body as I took in the reality of the situation. Resting my head on the cool surface of the door, I breathed in deeply willing myself to calm down.

Warmth appeared behind me. “Are you okay-“

I pushed myself off the door and walked around him, ignoring his words entirely. I could do this. My friends will be here soon and I just had to last until then.

I couldn’t let Rafe Cameron break me for the fourth time. Not when I’ve finally glued all the pieces back together.

At the sound of a vehicle approaching and shouts of terror, I moved to the window pulling the curtains back. Rafe appeared next to me as we both peered outside through the glass.

One man in a beige bullet proof vest is dragging a man against his will while another strapped with a gun followed close behind.

“Who the hell is that guy?”

Recognition filled me as I stare at the guy being dragged away. “I know him. It’s Jimmy Portis.”

At my words, Rafe’s face turned to mine. I could feel him staring at me, wanting to know more but I couldn’t pull away from the scene in front of me.

“He was trying to help us.”

Seconds later, Singh appeared with a smug smile and a wave. Reaching behind his waist, he pulled out a gun.

My fingers tightened on the curtain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe said, his palm landing on my stomach and pushed me back gently, away from the window.

“Rafe-“ My words are cut off.

“No.” His tone left no room for negotiation as he placed himself in front of me, as though he was attempting to shield me from what happened next.

A gun shot goes off.

A shriek passes my lips as I bring my shaky hands to my mouth. Rafe didn’t even flinch. Instead, he licked his lips and turned to me.

“This diary. Hey, no bullshit,” He warns, “Dont bullshit me, Okay? Do you have it?”

His dark eyes searched mine and I fought the urge to give in. He was like a tsunami that constantly threatened to drag me under. Every sense filled with him.

I used to give him everything. Until, he couldn’t do that same. I knew, I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth.

“No.”

“Your lying.” Yes.

“Let’s both stop pretending that you know everything about me.” I deflected, as I pushed him away from me.

Distance, I repeated in my head. Get some distance.

“Baby, we both know I do. The only one pretending here is you,” his lips widened in a harsh smile, one that threatened to eat me alive, “Now, tell me about the diary.”

“We don’t have it. Do I have to add deaf to the list along with psychotic and delusional?”

Rafe takes a threatening step forward causing me to take a step back. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have it.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Your lying right now. You want to know how I know?”

Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, Rafe steps in front of me swarming me from all sides. “You pick at the skin on your nails.”

Closing my eyes briefly, my stomach sinks because he was right.

I hated it him. I hated how he knew every little thing about me. I hated how he weaponized my reaction towards him again and again.

“Step. Back.”

“No, your useless friends put you in this situation. I’m trying to get us out. Where’s the diary?”

At the mention of my friends, a fire of anger ignited inside me. “Don’t talk about them like that. At least, I have them. Who do you have? Barry?”

“Have them? Where were they when you got taken? Look where we fucking are.”

“They didn’t have a choice. It was my fault anyway.”

“Why are you defending them?” Rafe asked me, staring at me with such exasperation. “Because of them, you’ve been in so much shit. Look where you are right now. They’re low lives. Stop being delusional.“

“And what,” My voice shook with anger, “be with you instead? You think your such an upgrade? Last time I checked you’re a frat boy with a coke addiction riddled with daddy issues. How could you be any better than them?”

I hated the person he turned me into. I never liked hurting anyone and here I was hurling every insult I could at him. I was consumed with the need to hurt him just as bad as he hurt me.

“Is this some knew kind of foreplay? Because, if it is, it’s working.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

He sends me a bored look. “What else could it mean?”

“Um, exactly what I said.”

“I don’t get it.” Rafe had the audacity to actually look confused.

“You’re crazy. You have to be.”

He nodded his head like this mad perfect sense. “Well, yeah. For you. I thought I made that clear.”

“When? You were too busy lying to me.”

“This again?”

“Just sit down and shut up.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re already giving me a migraine.”

“I knew I still had an effect on you.”

“Not a good one.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Ignoring his pretty words and charm was the only way I could survive this.

“Rafe, just stay on the side of the room and I’ll stay on mine. My friends are going to come so until then just keep to your damn side.”

He clenched and unclenched his hands as he regarded me. “And if they don’t come?”

“They will.” God, I hope so.

“So much faith in them.” Rafe said quietly, shaking his head in my direction before looking away. “Where’s your faith in me?”

“Gone. Kind of like your soul.”

I felt my pulse in my throat. His eyes turned brutal as he slowly traced his thumb along his bottom lip, almost assessing what he was going to do next.

He looked like he was going to eat me alive.

The ache in between my legs ignited again, the pulse almost unbearable.

“I can protect you.”

“Protect me? All you’ve ever done is hurt me.”

Rafe stared at me with humor as his eyebrows raised expectantly, “The only time I ever hurt you, is when you asked for it.”

Heat flashed into my cheeks. Flashbacks of my pleas for him to choke me and punish me hit me like a truck.

A frustrated noise left my lips as I grabbed a book from the dresser and threw it in his direction. “I hate you.”

No I don’t.

The humor left his blue eyes instantly as he clenched his jaw. “Watch it.”

“No. You think you can protect me?” I asked incredulously, my hands finding a remote next and I throw it at his head. “We’re in the same fucking room, Rafe.”

He side stepped the remote I threw at him easily, shaking his head. He begins to unbutton his suit jacket, his piercing blue eyes brewing a storm.

“I -“ I was momentarily distracted by him removing clothes. “Stop taking off your clothes.”

“You don’t hate me.”

He was insane. That’s what he chose to focus on?

“I do. I hate you. How many times do I have to say it for you to get it through your thick skull?”

The tension between us was stifling almost as thought there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

“Stop fucking saying that.” Rafe barked, his words rough dropping with a warning.

He undid his cuff links slowly, almost threateningly, like it was a count down for what’s to come.

My eyes narrowed at his threat. Anger and lust consumed me as I tried to fight off the urge to kiss him. Resentment wrapped around my throat.

He takes a step forward.

“Or what?” Gulping, I took a step back. My eyes looking around for something else to throw at his gorgeous face. “Are you gonna tell me you love me? And you think I’ll believe you?”

“I never lied about that.” His tone was almost condescending as he took another steps towards me.

My heart dipped as my blood ran hot and cold. Indecision filled me. This is what he does. He surrounded me, confused me, cornered me until all I could see was him.

“Stop trying to confuse me.” Another step back.

The way he looked at me sucked all the air out of my lungs. His eyes regarded me with such desire it burned me alive. I couldn’t look away.

“You know me. Look at me and tell me I’m lying.” Rafe’s words demanding yet soft.

Blue. His eyes fucking haunted me. I felt myself slowly giving way to the enigma that was Rafe Cameron.

Forcing my eyes away, I spotted a clock on the nightstand by the bed. I reached for it just as he moved towards me.

I pegged it at him. We both watched as the clock hit his chest with a thud and fell onto the floor with a plop.

“I know you enough to know that what you say doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he wanted to kiss me or strangle me. Probably the latter since he was a psychopath.

“This monologue is getting a bit repetitive, don’t you think?”

My gut twisted. “I hate you.”

I did sound like a broken record, but it was the only phrase that seemed to get a reaction out of him.

It was the only weapon I had as every other resolve I had was slowly deteriorating before me.

“Watch your mouth,” Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say it again.”

A distressed breathe left my lips. I wasn’t winning this deadly game of tug of war.

“Why?” I wanted to break him. I wanted him us to have matching scars. His soul didn’t get to be left unscathed while mine was covered in wounds that didn’t heal.

He was closing in on me at this point. His sleeves now rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone revealing the gold necklace I gave him.

Why was he doing this to me?

My fingers grasp the decorative pillow from the bed as I target his head. “Because you know it’s true. At least the people in my life love me. They didn’t pretend to love me to find the gold. They didn’t leave me repeatedly.”

Slapping the pillow out of the way, he stood two feet away from me. “Leave you? You left me.” The words held no emotion, just cold hard facts.

I bring my hand to the side of my face as I shake my head at him in disbelief.

“You chose the gold. Not once, not twice, but three fucking times. You chose to lie to me. Again and again. So I may have left, but the minute you chose the gold over me was the moment you decided I was worth losing.”

I remember the last time I saw him clear as day. The cross was being pulled up by Pope on the crane when I saw a figure with a gun take off running in his direction.

My whole body froze as I took in the person behind the gun. We both regarded each other with shock. I felt my heart break for a second time as I realized how he got the cross.

His guilt ridden eyes stared at me as I realized just how stupid I had been. I begged him to come with us. To leave the cross that was about to fall off the boat and come with me. Tears were streaming down my face as I screamed for him to leave.

To finally choose me. To love me the way I loved him.

It felt like hours when he finally made his decision. And, it wasn’t me. Rafe took off running towards the chain that was tied to the cross as he screamed for help from the crew.

My heart broke for the third and final time. I don’t think I could survive a fourth.

A touch to my face pulled me out of the painful memory. Rafe’s in front of me now, towering above my dainty figure, his fingers grazing my cheek.

“Can you please just let me explain?”

Jerking back, I slapped his hand away from my face.

His eyes flashed,”What? Now I can’t even touch you.”

“I loved you.” I whispered the words causing him to tense. “But, I’m done. I’m so completely and utterly done with you.”

Anger radiated off him in waves and the sudden urge to step back overcame me. Only, when I did the back of my thighs hit the bed.

He’d cornered me into the direction of the bed.

“Loved?” He murmured, almost to himself.

Rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing me slowly. Seeming to have made up his mind, he envelops my very space with his hand threading itself tightly within the roots of my hair at the nape of my neck.

Bending down to my height, his breath fans along my lips causing heat to surge through out my body. He was addictive.

“Just to be crystal fucking clear. You won’t ever be over me. This will never be over.”

Dread sat in my stomach like lead at the truth in his words. He knew it, I knew it. .

My eyes burned. My heart ached. All I knew, in that very moment, was I hated how much I loved him.

He was inevitable. The way we consumed each other was nothing short of catastrophic. We shined too bright that we burned each other.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me again.” I pleaded tearfully, begging for him to show an ounce of mercy.

Holding on to us was cruel. Rafe wasn’t going to change for me. He loved in his own way, but it was brutal, obsessive and mad. It was also intoxicating, intense, and painfully beautiful. It was too much.

I used to think I could handle it, because being with him was the only thing that made sense. He made me feel the sweetest high that sent me into a euphoric oblivion.

I thought my love was enough for him. Call me naive, but I wholeheartedly believed that I could help those broken parts of him heal. But Rafe was too broken. All the pieces of him I tried to carry in my arms only cut me in the process as I slowly bled out.

He had taken every piece of me with him. It was hard to tell where I ended and he began.

“Why are you wearing that necklace?” I asked him, the backs of my eyes burning. I needed him to say it. I needed him to tell me and actually mean it.

Rafe shook his head, his blue eyes were soul-wrenching. “You know why.”

My hands trembled as they connect with his shirt, griping the crisp material in desperation.

“Why are you wearing those cuff links?”

Why couldn’t he just say it?

When he didn’t respond to me, I felt the last bit of glue give way and my heart got devoured by grief.

I let go of his shirt. “You’re a coward. You’ve always been a coward.”

His eyes flickered with hurt but I didn’t care. Blind rage filled me and I pushed him. When he didn’t react, I did it again and again screaming out every morsel of pain that threatened to kill me.

It only lasted seconds. Rafe had enough and quickly caught both my wrists in his hands. His face was cruelly beautiful.

It mocked me.

“Calm down.” He ordered, his face a mask of cruel indifference. But, I knew him.

His eyes were filled with cold fury and by the slightly tremble from his body, I knew he was close to losing control.

“I fucking hate you.” I spat the words out vehemently. I watched as the words hit him square in the chest.

He sent me a wolffish grin. “I warned you.”

Rafe shoves me onto the bed trying to pin my squirming body down but I refuse to comply. I try to leverage my legs to buck his heavy body off of me but he only smacks my thigh causing me to suck in a breath.

“Let me go.” The heat of his body seared into me. He smelled like sin and regret.

“Stop fucking fighting me,” Rafe responded with a grunt.

I could feel light coat of sweat start to cover my body, the silk of the dress rubbed against my skin only making the throbbing worse. I kicked my leg out but my dress only slipped further up my body, my thigh now fully exposed.

Rafe’s eyes clocked the newly exposed skin. His distraction bought me enough time shove his shoulders back causing him to stagger.

Pulling my body up, I tried to crawl off the bed but shriek when familiar hands clamped onto my ankles and dragged me back down the bed.

“God, you asshole.”

He ignored me and straddled my hips, his legs pinning me in place. My heart pulsed against my rib cage.

“I’m the asshole? You’ve been throwing shit at me for the past ten minutes.”

Glaring at him, I jerk my arm free with the full intention of slapping him when Rafe catches my hand.

“Stop trying to hit me.” He growled, his patience gone. With rough hands, he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head in one hand. The other gripped my chin tightly, forcing my eyes to his volatile memorizing blues.

“Now that I have your attention. Take it back.” Rafe breathed out harshly.

He waited for me to answer but the words never left my lips. Instead, my entire focus was on the rigid mass of muscles that were pressed against my body.

My dress had entirely pooled at my waist, the lace black thong I wore peaked out from under.

Rafe leaned down and moved his grip on my chin up slightly so my lips pursed out in a pout.

His swipe his tongue against my pouty lips before placing a soft kiss along them. “Take it back.”

The small act made my body feel like it was on fire and the desire to arch my back and beg for more was overwhelming.

The evidence of our struggle was resting hard against my stomach. Desire filled my mouth but I couldn’t let him see that. I tried to jerk my head out of his grasp but he tsked.

Maneuvering his body slightly, he rested himself in between my legs. Slowly reaching in between us, the tough calloused hand I loved having around my throat trailed along my thigh, curling around my knee and hooking it across his waist.

“Oh god…” I couldnt control the whimper that escaped me. My body was wired tight with anticipation at the familiar rush of want threatened to drown me.

His hand trailed back, the bits of his nails scraping along my naked thighs. They catch the waistband of my thong where he teasingly slips a finger underneath.

“I can feel how hot your pussy is.” The words were rough against my lips. “We’re so good together. All you have to do, is take it back.”

“No.” Yes.

His chuckle was throaty almost hoarse as he trembled with barely there restraint. “That fucking mouth.”

Rafe allowed his open palm to travel up my navel, the roughness of his hand contradicting the silk of the dress.

“Please.” I was weak, I was so incredibly weak. I was a trembling mass of limbs under him just at his touch.

The palm of his hand finally trails up between the valley of breasts before curling around my throat tightening possessively.

“Take. It. Fucking. Back.” He emphasized each word with a hot kiss to my lips.

I clamped my eyes shut willing for him to disappear. What do you do when your worst nightmare is also the love of your life?

I felt his forehead rest against mine, his breath heavy against my own. “Don’t say that to me. Say whatever the hell you want, but not that. Never that.”

I slowly opened my eyes. Deep pools of glacial blue stare back at me overwhelmingly beautiful and gloriously mad.

“I didn’t mean it.” The words were spoken softly, barley above a whisper.

Rafe closed his eyes briefly in relief. “You drive me insane.”

A giggle erupted from my chest at the irony of his words because I’m almost certain he’s clinically psychotic. At the sound of my laughter, he opens his eyes and sends me a soft smile that relaxed all the harsh lines in his face.

Lifting a hand to his face, my finger tips slowly smooth out the stressed lines along his eyes.

“My head.”

“What?” I asked letting my hand finally run through the buzzed hair on his scalp, goosebumps erupt on my skin at the thought of it in between my legs.

“It’s finally quiet.”

My hand froze at his honesty and my heart ached for him. The same heart that has now decided to throw all reason outside the window.

I just wanted this pain to go away even for a few moments. He always had the ability to take it away even if he was the one causing it.

I tugged him down gently and he followed me with ease. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes darted to my lips.

“Did you miss me?”

A rumble left his chest. “Fuck, I missed you.”

My heart soared at his confession. I dragged the tips of my nails down the curve of his jaw and trail down his throat making him freeze.

At the sight of the familiar gold chain that decorated his neck, my legs clenched around him.

Even apart, he always kept me with him.

Not bothering to look up, I leaned forward with one finger grasping the chain that hit my chest while my lips placed an open mouth kiss along the curve of his neck.

I caught the chain between my lips humming to myself, completely entranced by him. Rafe balled the sheet in his grip by my head but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get it out of him.

Running my nose along the side of his neck inhaling deeply, my tongue slips out gently applying pressure as I drag it up his neck slowly.

Reaching the curve of his jaw, I peppered open mouth kisses like I would his lips. My blood drummed through my ears and need entered my bloodstream.

“Will you fucking kiss me already?” Rafe said gruffly, nipping at my lip.

He stared at me with half lidded eyes, his pupils blown out wide in arousal. “What do I get if I do?”

The filthy smile he shot me was filled with sin.

“I’ll fuck you dumb. Just how you like it.” He put his lips to my ear, the promise in his voice had me shivering in anticipation.

Tilting my head up, I smashed my lips to his causing him to let out a groan of relief. Our kiss was messy and desperate after so much time apart, our teeth clashed as we fought for dominance.

Rafe took over the kiss practically inhaling my very breath as his tongue brushed against mine. His fingers biting into the tops of my thighs as I tilted my hips up against his, desperate for friction.

Pulling back slightly, Rafe’s hand grips my chin roughly forcing my lips into a pout. Breathing harshly, he leaned forward and licked my pursed lips before kissing me again.

Capturing my tongue between his lips, he sucks on the muscle causing me to let out a soft whimper. We separated, our eyes lock on each other filled with lust, both of us breathing hard and accepting our fate.

“You gonna be good for me?”

The ache between my legs was almost painful as I nodded my head at him, begging with my eyes.

Rafe’s hands moved to my waist in seconds has he gathered the scrunched fabric and ripped over my head, leaving me in my black lace thong and nothing else.

His eyes darkened with each passing second as he stared at my body. I leaned back on the palms of my hands and arched my back in invitation.

Rafe traced the curves of my body with his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. His eyes never left my body as he took in every detail.

He looked starved.

Impatiently, I tugged at his shirt and started fumbling with the buttons. Finally the shirt gave way as I pushed it off his shoulders, my hands coming in contact with his built chest, smooth and firm.

His muscles flexed under my touch as I became mesmerized by his body. He had gotten bigger than before, his arms now bulging with muscles.

My fingers trailed down his tight pecs to his abdomen where I let one finger trail along each chiseled ab, my mouth salivating at the thought of tasting each bit of skin.

My breath started coming out in pants. Those blue eyes gleamed at my obvious attraction and the smirk on his lips said enough. His cheeks dusted slightly with pink at my burning undivided attention.

My hand dipped between us to the tent in his slacks and I slowly pressed my palm against the hard bulge. Rafe let out a relieved sigh as his hips pushed against my hand for more pressure.

“Rafe..” I let out a needy whine. The only coherent thought I could form was that I need him inside me.

“Hmm?”

“I want it now.”

He chuckled at my words, licking his lips slowly as he trailed his open palm up my abdomen towards my breasts. Cupping my breast in his hand, he gave it a squeeze before flicking the nub.

My eyes closed tightly, relishing at how his large hands gripped me. His mouth latched onto the hard nub forcing a gasp from me as he sucks and teasingly swipes his tongue around in circles.

He switches his attention to the other causing me to throw my head back in appreciation. My hands held on his head as I pulled him closer to my chest.

Brining his lips back to mine, Rafe nips at my jaw before dragging soft kisses down the size of my neck. I could feel my core start to clench on nothingness due to the level of sensitivity my body was wired on.

His lips latch onto my neck, as he pulled my skin into his mouth, sucking harshly. His hands kneaded into the globes of my ass as he left his mark on my body.

Examining his handy work, Rafe placed small kisses on the several hickeys I knew he left on my neck.

Nothing he did was ever on accident. This I knew he did for a reason, to prove the one point I tried to deny.

We were so good together.

“I’m going to eat you fucking alive.” Harsh words were rasped against my lips as his fingers dipped to my waist, curling around the ribbon of my thong before tugging roughly. The straps gave way as he tore my panties off, quickly tucking them into his pocket.

Now completely bare, Rafe’s fingers dancing across my smooth mound. Unconsciously, my legs opened further at the feeling of his cold rings against my pulsating pussy.

Fuck, those rings.

He glided a single digit along the slit dipping it in between when a low pained moan left his lips.

“You’re dripping on the mattress.”

I didn’t give myself the chance to be embarrassed at his words because the way he was looking at me had me breathless. My brain was blank. Not one explanation came to mind other than him.

He did this to me.

Rafe slips another finger in, the evidence of my arousal being used as lubricant against my clit.

Cursing, he moves off the bed and grabs my hips, tugging me to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Forcing my legs open further, his breathe hits my lips and I can’t hide the tremble in my legs.

His thick ring covered fingers slowly rub my lips before dipping in, separating them slowly in the shape of a ‘V’ opening me up completely under his greedy gaze.

Rafe pushes a finger in, meeting no resistance, and I can feel myself immediately clench around him.

A moan slipped out as he slowly began to thrust in and out while his thumb ghosted along my clit. Slipping another finger in, he begins to pick up his pace, the only sounds to be heard are the squelching of my juices and his hard grunts.

It was obscene how loud the wet noises were but he was eating it up.

Flicking my nub with his thumb, he curled his fingers making me cry out in pleasure. Pulling them out, Rafe finally leans down and drags his tongue from ass to clit.

Prying my lips open, Rafe sticks his tongue indices of me, thrusting in and out. He hummed against my clit, pulling them between his lips and sucking harshly.

“Fuck you for leaving me. I could have had this every day but you took it away from me.” To anyone else, I knew that came off as mean and probably extremely aggressive. But, I knew what he actually meant.

That translated to, I missed you.

My legs were wrapped around his head with my back arched as I rutted my hips against his face. His fingers, which were drenched in my slick, trailed up my stomach and onto my breasts covering me in my juices.

It only made me burn more.

I began to convulse under his brutal assault of my pussy and my nerves were shot. “Oh god, oh god.” I gasped as my fingers dragged along his scalp.

He hand successfully pinned me down by his forearms as he continued to lap at my lips. Rafe circled my clit with his tongue, prodding at it again and again in a relentless assault. Not giving me a moment to breath, he softly bits on the nub at the same time he slams to fingers into me.

A wave of pleasure hits my body and my toes curl in ecstasy with my eyes slammed shut. I could feel myself gushing onto his face as his name comes out in loud chants.

A warm flush passes through my body as I slump against the bed, exhausted. A languid sigh leaves my mouth as I try to catch my breath.

Rafe presses one long kiss against my pussy, his fingers forming a ‘v’ once more to watch as I dripped onto the mattress. I could feel the wetness under my ass but didn’t dare move.

“So fucking pretty.”

Rafe stood up from between my legs and towered over me with dark eyes.

Holy fuck.

Spit and my arousal dripped from chin, his entire mouth and nose glistening from my juices.

His eyes never moved from mine as he lazily began to undo his belt with one hand. Tugging it off his waist, he tossed it to the ground before he began to unzip his pants.

Rafe stepped out of his pants and underwear leaving him completely naked. I had remind myself to properly breathe.

His dark hooded eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

He gripped his hard and heavy cock in one hand letting out a groan. Tilting his head back slightly, he lazily tugged at his cock making my pussy pound with need.

He looked like a Greek god with his head thrown back like that in pleasure.

“Are you fucking me or what?” There was a bite to my words.

Rafe narrowed his eyes at me before languidly stroking his cock a few more times. “Don’t get pissy.”

I opened my mouth to argue then shut it closed as he came into the bed, spreading my legs wide open.

“Look at me.”

My eyes darted up and connected with his darkened blue orbs. Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gathered saliva in his mouth and spits directly onto my pussy while his hands pinned me open.

My chest heaved up on down at the action, making me feel so filthy. He brings the tip to my slit and slaps it gently against my sensitive engorged lips.

A pained whine escaped me at his teasing.

“Someone’s needy.” He mused.

Leaning forward, he slowly pushed in cursing under his breath. My legs were shaking as I furrowed my eyes brows at the intrusion.

I felt full as my eyes glossed over the more he pushed his hips in. I didn’t remember him stretching and making me feel this full.

“Rafe, I dont think-“

“I used to fuck you in the shower, the car, in the fucking boat. You can take me, baby.” He murmured against my lips, taking my bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged gently. “You used to sit on my cock and keep me warm.”

He slides another inch, my cunt sucking him in. I could feel every ridge of his thick hard cock against my quivering walls.

“That’s it. Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” Rafe praised, his hands dancing along my thighs in a loving caress.

I felt myself clench at his words and a wave a clinginess hit me. Mewling for contact, Rafe reads my face with satisfaction as leans over me, giving me the closeness I needed.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks into me further, causing my mouth to open and close like a fish out of water.

I momentarily forgot how to breathe. He completely bottoms out inside me drawing a loud moan from my lips.

“Such a good girl for me,” Rafe muttered, pressing soft kisses along my face. “Your pussy remembers exactly who owns it.”

He let out a deep groan in my ear causing goosebumps to appear. He was so fucking vocal, he knew how to kill me.

“I’m the only one that fucks you the way you need to be fucked, right?”

I ignored the questions, instead focusing my attention on the feel of his cock twitching inside me.

Rafe pulls out before slamming back into me, a scream leaving my lips as my back arched in pleasure.

“Fucking answer me.”

I could barely hear him over the pounding of my ears.

He begins to rut into me, each thrust echoing with sopping wet sounds. My walls quivered and pulsated around his dick.

Slowing down his pace, he pushes my thighs up, folding me in half before slamming into me again. The tip of his dick brushes my cervix making my eyes roll to the back of my head as I gasped for breath.

Rafe’s pace is brutal as he savagely fucks me into the mattress. A choked sob left my mouth as I dug my nails deeper into his skin.

The sound is skin hitting skin echos in the room making me clench even harder. My upper thighs were soaked with my slick and his spit, making the noise all the more dirty.

“Tell me I’m the only one that fucks you like this.”

A gargled noise left my lips as my brain began to short circuit. He only pounded into me harder at my lack of response.

I could only focus on the ceiling as I gasped for my breath.

“You think JJ can get you to forget how fucking breathe?”

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

My eyes were blown wide and my mind completely blank as I mumbled incoherently under him.

“How about Pope? Does he know how to get you break?”

He harshly spat the words, punctuating each sentence with a pistoled thrust. I was a mindless mess under him. My eyes rolled to the back of my head with my mouth dropped open.

“You’re a fucking freak. They don’t know how to handle you. But, I do.”

He needed to stop talking before I blacked out.

Letting go of my legs he tried to move back, but I immediately wrapped them around his waist, wanting to be as close as two people could.

I was a desperate whining mess as I begged him for more.

Roughly grabbing my chin in between his two fingers, his eyes laced with heat. “Open your mouth.”

With wide eyes, my mouth slowly opens and my tongue slides out. Rafe places his mouth over mine before spitting directly onto my tongue all the while slowly thrusting in and out of my gummy walls.

Moving back, he stared at me through half lidded eyes. “Swallow it.”

My brain had turned to mush at this point. I blinked at him before I swallowed his spit, humming under his heated gaze.

“Missed that pretty mouth.”

I clamped down on him at his words. I blushed under his gaze. Rafe dipped his head, connecting our lips, licking his way into my mouth.

Suddenly, I feel him pull out of me causing me to whine in protest at the loss. His hands grabbed my hips in a brutal grip before turning me over onto my stomach.

He tried lifting my hips into position but they were shaking so intensely that I couldn’t hold them up.

“My legs-“ I gasped out gulps of air with my face resting onto the sheets, my hands gripping the sheets into tight balls.

“Come on, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Hold up your legs.” He cooed in my ear.

At his demand, I somehow found the strength to push myself up, arching my back as far as I could with my legs shaking.

A guttural groan erupts from his chest as I feel him separate my ass cheeks. Sinking back into me, Rafe begins to truly fuck me into oblivion.

His pace is animalistic, not stopping once. “I’m in your fucking stomach.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his grunts filling the room.

One of his hands trailed up my spine before wrapping itself around the nape of my neck, threading his fingers into my hair and pinned me down.

My cries were muffled into the sheets as he’s grip on my neck tightened possessively.

“Had-Harder, Rafe. Please, please please.” I was babbling on and on with pleads.

He was fucking me so hard I’m almost certain he left an imprint. My eyes began to water from overstimulation as he kept bottoming out against my cervix.

I could slowly start to feel myself spasming against his dick, with each glide and thrust. His hands now holding my hips in a punish grip, sure to leave bruises.

It was too much. I kept forgetting how to breathe and found myself slowly becoming light headed from the pleasure.

Tears began to fall and soak the sheets bellow me as I cried out with whimpers. Choked sobs loudly leave my mouth at him roughly pulling back before grinding back into me.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.”

I went stupid.

He fucked me relentlessly, his palms messaging the fat of my ass before slapping it. Reaching between us, his fingers circle my clit, causing sharp hiss to leave me.

My legs gave out beneath me as tears continued to leak. Rafe didn’t care, instead he continued to piston into me muttering words of praise.

The tightness in my stomach began to build, my toes curling in anticipation. “Oh god. I’m-“

I couldn’t finish my words as my mind went compelled numb, a hot flash a white bursting behind my eye lids. A wave I’ve pleasure snapped as I wailed out his name.

I withered underneath him before my body went completely limp, warm with satisfaction.

He never slowed down. Rafe continued to fuck me through my orgasm as I whined and incoherently begged for more.

I gushed all over his legs, half dazed and mindless.

“W-wanna see your face.” I begged him numbly, needing to see his face when he finished.

“Whatever you want.” Rafe flipped me onto my back before pushing into me once more.

The intrusion has me throwing my head back where he grunted as he dragged his tongue along the side of my exposed neck.

I sobbed to myself. I could taste the salt on my lips and I knew my mascara was running down my cheeks.

My head lolled to the side, my eyes half shut as I stared at him. His neck was tight, and his body tense as him pace began to pick up speed. A new sense of vigour filled him as he rutted into me.

“Rafe, I-I want it.” The words were reckless, but he fucked all my braincells gone.

He was hitting me so deeply, you could see the bulge slightly through my stomach.

A groan ripped out of his mouth, his eyes finding mine. He looked drunk. Drunk off of me.

“You want my cum, baby?”

I nodded stupidly.

“I knew you could take it. Such a good fucking girl for me. So good to me.”

Rafe leaned down and hungrily kissed me, our lips clashing against each other. I panted into his mouth as he rocked into me again and again.

He pulled out before slamming himself back in again and again, grunting and moaning as he fucked the life out of me.

“I’m gonna come inside this pretty pussy.” He grunted against my lips, “I’m gonna fill you up.”

My arms wrapped themselves around his head, forcing his forehead against mine. My eyes stayed on his as I slowly lifted my hips and rocked them against his.

His thrusts begin to stutter as I whispered dirty little nothings to him. I couldn’t control the desire that had me pressing open mouth kisses along his face.

I licked and lapped at his mouth, kissing him roughly.

Rafe began to moan loudly, sweat dripped down the side of his face but I caught it with my tongue.

“Fucking brat.” He cursed out, pinning me down by my throat, the cool metal of his rings soothing my burning skin.

My hand held onto his that was on my throat to serve as some sort of anchor. He took his other hand and wiped my tears across my face, making more of a mess.

“I knew you’d cry for me.”

Rafe clenched his jaw in pleasure before throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan.

Planting himself deeply inside me, I gasped and clamped down on him and in seconds he filled me with his cum.

My body was exhausted as I lazily stared up at him, a small smile of satisfaction decorating my lips.

Wincing as he slowly pulled out of me, I could feel his seed slowly leak out of me and onto the bed.

Rafe caught the slick arousal with his finger and slowly dipped it back inside of me causing me to hiss due to the over-sensitivity.

I watched him through tired eyes, catching his hand into mine and brought it to my face.

His hand curled along my jaw as he wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb. Rafe stared at me with open infatuation as he traced my eyes, then my nose, and finally my lips with his fingers.

“You’ll never be over me.”

At his words, I felt a pang hit my chest that painfully curled around my heart.

His words were cruel, but true.

He wasn’t good for me. In fact, he was my own personal demon that caused all sort of pain in my life time and time again.

Rafe brought me to life. A spark inside me, that I didn’t know existed, ignited. I ached for his attentions and became quickly addicted. His charm and smile lured me into his web of lies and manipulation, and never let me out.

Instead, I threw myself deeper into his web and wrapped myself around his bed of lies. His darkness became my darkness and I accepted every ugly piece of him.

His presence was overwhelming that at times I found it hard to breathe and hard to think. He made me loose my sanity. My very existence had circled around one thing: Rafe.

I would never get over him because he was in my fucking bloodstream.

“I hate you.” My words were weak at best, softly spoken. I stared at him openly hurt, my face shattered as the reality of our situation sets in.

Rafe mirrors my expression, “No, you don’t.”

So I ask you again, what do you do when the monster from your nightmares is also the love of your life?

——————————

Side note: they are fucking F-R-E-A-K-S. He’s so hot I cant even. This is going to be part one of a two part series!!! Please let me know what you think:)

#obx smut #outerbanks imagine #obx #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe angst #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outer banks season 3 #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

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astroph1les · 7 months

Text

all in a day’s work [h.c]

summary: being spider-woman is going pretty well for hazel. that is until you notice these cuts and bruises appearing on her skin. she’s just a little clumsy, though, right?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, shower sex (very little detail), spider!hazel, mentions of hazel’s transformation since becoming spider-woman, slight violence, cannabis mention, mentions of the avengers events, josie is hazel’s guy in the chair.

word count: 4.4K

a/n: it’s here. i’m beyond excited for you guys to read this short series. it’s going to be a four parter, uploading each part every week for the month of october. thank you and enjoy <3

one | two | three | four

Hazel hated criminals.

The ones who stole purses from innocent old ladies who were just trying to buy groceries. The ones who harass and assault women for rejecting them. Or in this special Brooklyn norm, a guy who had hotwired a BMW who was now involved in a high speed chase with four cop cars and a special hero following him.

Normally, she would be more than pleased to arrive at the scene. On any other day, she wouldn’t have promised to meet her girlfriend — sweet and patient you — at the bodega that your uncle owned. But some dumbass just had to hotwire a car when she had to meet you in an hour.

Hazel swung in between buildings, following the sirens of the police cars and the map inside of her mask, her eyes darting from car to car to find the one that was described. A dark purple BMW speeding down Tillary Street, turning down Gold Street. Once she had spotted the vehicle, she launched herself faster in the vicinity before landing on a U-Haul truck that was a few cars behind the BMW.

This guy was swerving and weaving through cars like a maniac as Brooklyn’s finest were hot on his trail. Hazel shook her hands out as a nerve-releaser, her gloved hands stretching in and out. She then sprinted across the top of the truck before launching a web at a tall building to maneuver her way onto the back of the BMW.

The breeze felt nice, though, after swinging around for so long. Her hands were gripping onto the sides of the vehicle to keep her balance.

“Excuse me, sir!” She tapped on the back window, waving a hand to get his attention.

The man’s eyes flickered to his rear-view mirror, eyes visibly widening at the sight of Spider-Woman hanging from the back of the stolen car. His response was to step on the gas. Hazel groaned as her lower stomach thumped onto the trunk, but quickly regained her posture as she hoisted herself onto her feet.

“Incoming text from honey with the white heart emoji and bee emoji,” Karen told Hazel, her Siri-like voice echoing in her ears. “Are we still on for sandwiches, babe? Semi-colon. Parenthesis.”

Hazel smiled at the message from you as she crawled to the top of the vehicle, mentally pumping her fist at the sight of the sunroof. The man had left it wide open. So he was an idiot in many ways. Hazel slipped in quickly, her bottom landing in the backseat. She’d tell Karen to reply as soon as she finishes with this nuisance.

“C’mon, dude, high-speed chase? What? Was stealing an old lady’s purse too cliche?” Hazel quipped with a cheeky attitude.

The man didn’t say a word but instead attempted to throw a punch in the backseat, letting out grunts of annoyance. Hazel blocked every swing with a sigh, wondering why the hell he was even trying.

“You know, you’d punch way better if you weren’t driving, sir.”

As the man continued to speed between cars, Hazel stares up ahead to see an empty alleyway in an upcoming street. She needed to get him off of the street so that innocent people wouldn’t be in the way of danger.

Hazel shoots a web at the man's eyes. He grunts at the sticky feeling and temporary blindness, releasing the wheel entirely. Hazel reaches over from the backseat, hands gripping onto the wheel to turn sharply into the deserted alley. She mutters a string of curses as the side of the car scrapes against the brick building.

She’ll tell Mr. Stark about billing that to the owner later.

Cars honked and came to a sudden halt at her illegal moves but the car was now in the alley, away from the public. She releases the wheel to quickly crawl out of the open sun-roof. Mid-way out, she feels the glass begin to close on her torso.

Hazel groans out at the squeezing pressure and looks down into the car to see that the man had hit the sunroof button on the roof of the interior. One of his hands gripped onto her spandex covered calf, trying to tug her back down.

“I have a girlfriend, dude. Let go,” Hazel grunted, wriggling in his grasp.

Hazel threw her foot back into his chest and jaw before jumping up and out of the car. She landed on a metal fire escape balcony. From that distance, she shot multiple webs at the end of the alleyway, creating a makeshift trap for the car to run into. Her wrists were beginning to ache but she kept her movements flowing, releasing the web as he was reaching the end. The car hit the large web with a loud thump but had stopped, which is what Hazel was aiming for.

The thief had stepped out of the car and began to book it.

“Karen, send a text back to honey reading,” Hazel stood on the fire escape and walked on the side of the building as she aimed a web at the man. The substance wrapped around his legs causing him to trip and hit the ground. “Of course. See you soon. With two x’s and o’s.”

“I am sending the text to honey.” Karen alerted Hazel to her mask.

Hazel swung over to land right next to the criminal's head, tilting her body to the side to grin at his scraped up face. She knew he couldn’t see her shit-eating grin but it brought her some sort of badass feeling. Like an ‘I-just-did-that-shit’ feeling.

“The cops will take care of you so if you’ll excuse me,” she shot her web around his wrist to keep him down and held them behind his back. “I have to see my girl.”

The man grunted loudly to which Hazel responded with a: “Bye, Mr. Criminal!” as she launches herself out of the alley and around the corner of the building.

You were browsing the shelf of snacks and candies in your uncle’s bodega. You had just gotten off your shift at the Build-A-Bear in the mall and you were absolutely starving. The array of chips and gummies made your stomach grumble, sighing as you were waiting patiently for Hazel to arrive.

Her Stark internship had consumed a lot of her time lately. Of course, you were incredibly happy and proud of her to be working under Tony Stark: a billionaire industrialist, inventor, and the Iron-Man.

You didn’t mean to seem clingy, but you missed her when she was gone.

“Bee, here you go.” You hear a voice coming from behind the counter.

There stood your uncle with your turkey club sandwich wrapped — no tomatoes. You let out a groan of relief as you walked up to the counter to take it from him. You reach into your tote to grab a five dollar bill.

“Bee, you’re not paying.” He began to walk around to avoid you giving him cash.

“Uncle Karter, take it now. I’ll hop over this counter and shove into the register,” your threat was playful, but you meant every word.

“You’re hungry so I’m giving you food. It’s just like having lunch at home.” Your uncle insisted as he pointed at you, resting his arms on the glass display of the different kinds of sandwiches and deli meat he had to offer.

You sigh, giving him a wary look. Yes, he was your uncle, but you felt guilty just being handed sandwiches that you could easily pay for. You have a job. Your uncle wouldn’t let you pay, though, so you reluctantly slip the dollar bill into your bag.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile before taking a bite of the fresh sandwich.

“It’s nothing, kiddo.” The man shakes his head as his eyes flicker behind him at the front door. The bell rings and he jerks his head to whoever was walking in. “Your little girlfriend is here.”

You whip your head around mid-bite to see Hazel panting as if she had run here with a wide, charming smile. Her hands were holding something behind her back as she approached you happily with her brown broken-in leather backpack over one shoulder, her keys that were clasped onto a loop of her jeans jangling loudly.

“Hey,” she breathes out, her gaze flickering between both of your eyes. Hazel raises her hand to wave at your uncle. “Hi, sir.”

“Hazel, I told you to call me Karter. None of that ‘sir’ shit, dude. I’m 36, not 50.” Your uncle replied teasingly, causing you to chuckle. Hazel nodded, muttering a ‘right’. Her eyes locked with yours as your uncle began to attend to the other customers.

“How was it today?” You tilt your head as you take another bite of your sandwich.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, scoffing out. “Boring science shit but it was good. New scientist named Dr. Connors that Mr. Stark introduced me to.”

You deadpan at her, nodding your head. Sure, the subject wasn’t your favorite but you always wanted to hear about Hazel’s day. You brushed off the short response as you swallow that bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, well, that’s good. What are you hiding?” You try to peer over her shoulder but she only leans to the same side as you.

“Grabbed something for you on the way here.” Hazel beams as she pulls out the present from behind her back.

It was a small bouquet of an array of flowers for this time of the year. It was fall in New York, so the array of white roses and yellow sunflowers brightened up your mood. Forest Hills blossomed during the chilly season; a beautiful orange hue washed over the neighborhood in Queens as the decaying leaves fell from the tree branches.

Your eyes softened at the simple yet sweet gesture. Hazel grinned awkwardly, hoping you loved them.

Ever since you two had started dating half a year ago, Hazel has always felt like she had to be the best girlfriend she could. You were her first girlfriend and she was absolutely crazy about you, as you were about her.

Other people haven’t been the kindest to you and she knew that. Lying and cheating were a main factor as you’ve told her.

The guilt ached in her chest everyday having to lie to you about being Spider-Woman. You were her entire world. Tony insisted it was for the best if she didn’t want anything to happen to you.

“You are too sweet, I swear. Thank you, baby,” you lean in close to kiss her lips quickly and take the bouquet in your free hand.

Hazel flushed so easily, making your smile widen. It was a good feeling to see after so many months that she still got flustered when you kissed her.

“It’s nothing. You deserve it.” Hazel replied as if it was something you should know.

You don’t respond to that, only blushing like Hazel was moments ago. You sniff the soft flowery scent for a moment before taking another bite of your sandwich.

“You wanna head to mine?” You offer with a flirty smile.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Hazel nodded, eyes warily darting to your uncle who was occupied with his line of customers that appeared out of the blue.

“He’ll be here for hours. C’mon,” you loop your arm around hers. “Bye, Uncle Karter. See you later.”

Your uncle simply waves his hand mid-conversation with the middle aged woman in front of him. Hazel leaned into your touch for a second before letting herself get dragged out of the bodega by you.

A fresh autumn breeze brushed against her, hitting her pale skin. You leaned your head on her shoulder as you talked about all the adorable children that had come into the Build-A-Bear.

Hazel loved these small moments with you. Well, she loved every moment but little things like this clouded her brain when she wasn’t focused on keeping her identity a secret. Watching your eyes light up when you spoke about how happy these children looked when you handed them their bear made her heart grow tenfold.

When the two of you had arrived at you and your uncle's apartment, you reached into your bag to grab the house keys.

“You hungry?” You ask as your sliding the key into the slot.

Hazel shook her head, placing a hand over her stomach. “I’m okay. Thank you, though, honey.”

You place a gentle kiss at her cheek as if to tell her that you asked her questions like that to show that you cared. You frowned, though, as you noticed a bruise and cut on her top lip that you hadn’t really seen before.

Hazel noticed you paused and furrowed her brows.

“What is it?” She whipped her head around to see if there were any potential threats. She was tempted to check her watch that Tony had given her to get Karen to scan the area.

“Babe, did you hit your lip?” You raised a hand to graze over the reddening area.

Hazel’s eyes widened once she realized what you were talking about. Earlier this morning, Hazel had a guy hit the butt of his gun at her face when she had dealt with a smoke shop robbery. She actually got free weed from the guy working the register which she plans to give to PJ.

“Oh, yeah. May was opening a cabinet up top and it hit me straight in the lip. I kind of forgot about it.” Hazel easily lied through her teeth, letting you caress the outline of her lips.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” You ask her softly, eyes flickering up to her freckled under eyes.

Hazel shook her head with a hum, her smile growing as she admired your worried features. You looked away with a flushed grin as you pushed open the front door. The faint aroma of pumpkin and cinnamon filled Hazel’s nose, warmth filling her chest.

It wasn’t the largest apartment but it was home to you. You and uncle didn’t need much more than this.

“How is May?” You asked as you hung your keys on one of the Smurfs wall mounted key hooks that you had found at a thrift store.

“She’s good. Working at the hospital right now so she’s hoping that‘ll pay well.” Hazel explains as she traces the knick knacks on the shelf’s in the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the thought of Hazel’s Aunt May. She really was one of the kindest women you’ve ever met. May had a tendency to call you her ‘future daughter in law’ in front of Hazel just to tease the girl, watching her cheeks and tips of her ears flush a deep red.

“That’s good. I don’t want her overworking herself, though.” You sigh as you set your bag down next to the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, me neither.” Hazel sighed. “So, what did you wanna do?”

You hum in thought, bringing your single braid from behind your head to over your shoulder. You began to untangle the twisted hair as you thought about what activities you and Hazel could do now that she was free.

A certain idea came to mind.

“Well, I do need to shower so,” you say nonchalantly, hoping Hazel would get the hint.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I can wait out here. Take your time, honey.” Hazel nodded and went over to take a seat on the couch.

You stared at her grabbing the remote for the TV, turning it on and flicking through the channels. You release your hair to allow it to sit on your shoulders, waiting patiently for Hazel to realize.

“Oh, do you wanna watch Foot Loose when you get out of the shower?” Hazel’s gaze floated back to you.

Her excitement to watch the movie dropped when she noticed you tilting your head and looking at her like that. You had only given her that look when you were insinuating something sensual. Your body was swaying back and forth as your smile grew when she set down the remote.

“Sorry. I didn’t— I thought you meant by yourself.” Hazel rushed out as she turned off the TV, chuckling nervously.

“At first, yeah. But, hey, we’re conserving water if we shower together and you know I’m all about keeping the Earth green.”

Hazel couldn’t help but nod, standing up to walk up to you. “That— yeah. That’s true. Conserving water conserves energy that reduces greenhouse gas pollution.”

Her brain shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

“Yeah? What else does it do?” Your fingers hook onto her belt loops, tugging her closer into your body.

Hazel allowed you to manhandle her as she would truthfully let you do anything to her. She knew how much her ability to retain and cite facts turned you on. It was obvious by how you were drinking her in like you could devour her.

“It can… oh, protect aquatic life and extend water supply to areas that lack and ensure agricultural production to thrive.” Hazel rambled out, her flush growing as your thumbs brushed past her hip bone.

“Oh, those poor sea creatures.” You frown, smacking your lips.

“Don’t you need to shower?” Hazel asked, suddenly overwhelmed with impatience.

Your smile only grew, a giggle falling from your lips. You intertwine your hands with Hazel’s as you hurriedly walk over to your small bathroom. Hazel made sure to remove her watch and set it down on the porcelain sink, not wanting any sort of message from Tony to interrupt her time with you.

You turn to shut the door and turn the lock with a ‘click’. Hazel is caught off guard by you removing your work shirt, blushing at the sight of you in your bra. She felt like such a virgin. She’s seen you naked at this point and still was a flustered mess around you.

“Can’t take a shower with clothes, Haze.” You raised your brows as you were unbuttoning your pants.

“Maybe I can. I can do laundry that way.” Hazel quipped back with a chuckle.

Nonetheless, she began to slip off her sweater. You walk over to her, hooking your fingers underneath the thick fabric to help her. Her sports bra came into view as you tugged the sweater up and off, tossing it onto the blue and white tiled ground.

You both messily kissed, clanking teeth from how rushed your movements were. Soft laughter released from you as you removed the rest of your clothing and underwear, Hazel following by copying your actions.

Hazel hoisted you up with ease by your plush thighs, causing you to let out a yelp at the sudden movement. You lazily kissed her jaw as you held onto her neck, listening to her soft hums as she stepped into the shower. You never understood how all of a sudden, Hazel had this strength and toned body. You’d never seen her hit the gym once since you’ve been together.

Not that you were complaining. Just confused.

“Alright, let me down,” you hum against her skin, “I really do have to shower.”

“I’ll, uh, help.” Hazel offered as she released her grasp from your thighs, carefully watching you step onto the tiled ground.

You simply give her a soft kiss, whispering a ‘thank you’ onto her lips. Hazel hums back before grabbing the hydrating shampoo from the shelf. You turned on the shower, letting out a soft ‘fuck’ at the cold water. You hurriedly turn the knob to the red ‘H’ symbol, leaning back into Hazel’s body.

Once the stream of water began to heat up, Hazel squirted out the correct amount of shampoo into her palms. She massaged the product to your scalp as you tilt your head back with a sigh. Her fingers work into your scalp, sending you into a domestic bliss.

“That feels so good.” You practically moan as Hazel continues with the shampooing.

Hazel chuckles with a blush, leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto your naked shoulder. Your mind practically turns to mush but you force yourself to continue the rest of your routine.

You and Hazel bathed each other after a few heated kisses. That’s all. (You had gone down on her and she fingered you until you came twice.) She had told you how much you resembled a beautiful Renaissance painting with every curve and dip of your body. The words squeezed at your heart, feeling yourself fall more and more in love with her — if that was even possible.

Now freshly bathed and spent from the day, you and Hazel settle down, remaining in just underwear with an oversized tee. The sun had been long gone — the only light source being the city lights from outside of your bedroom window. You were cuddled up in your bed on your sides Hazel was running one hand up and down the fresh and lotion-covered skin of your arm as you twirled her wet hair around your fingers.

“I wanna stay here forever.” You yawn and rub at your bare face.

“Yeah?” Hazel hummed.

You nod with a chuckle. “Oh, yeah. If I didn’t have to work or worry about stuff like the apocalypse and aliens taking over, I would stay here forever.”

“Aliens?” Hazel’s brows arched at your words, chuckling along with you.

“Well, I mean, you saw what happened with Avengers in the city a few years ago. That was terrifying, you know?” You mutter, zoning out as the memory flooded back into your mind.

You had been just a few streets down when Loki had sent an army of aliens down onto the city. Who knows what could’ve happened if you had been just one more street closer to the destruction.

Hazel only nodded because how can you forget an event like that? Lives were lost and changed forever. Hazel, at the time, was just like you; a normal girl in the city just trying to live day by day. She wasn’t able to save people as she could now.

“Let’s just… lay here a-and not think about that, honey. Okay?” Hazel whispered as she tried to reassure you while reassuring her own scattered mind.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You whispered back with a self-deprecating chuckle as you felt that you had ruined the mood.

Hazel shook her head as she moved her hand from caressing your arm to cupping your bare cheek.

“No, no, no, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to worry about all that stuff that hasn’t happened.”

Hypocrite, Hazel’s mind echoed after she had continued to utter soft and kind words to you. That’s all she ever did. Worrying about the unknown or stuff she couldn't control.

You ultimately felt your worries fade for the time being. Hazel caresses the length of your back until your heavy eyes shut, allowing sleep to take over. Not too long after Hazel knew that you were sound asleep, she did the same.

Hazel was awakened by the sound of a loud alarm echoing throughout the space of the room. She had shot up quickly from the bed, looking down at her watch to see it was a call from Josie — her only friend from Stark Industries.

Hazel checked the time to see it was 7:04 in the morning; way too early to be calling her. She glanced at you tangled up in your bed sheets next to her, mouth slightly hung open as you were knocked out. She carefully got up from the mattress, trodding over to the bathroom to get some privacy.

Hazel groaned at her reflection, her hair a tousled mess and her shirt half-way off of her shoulders. She reluctantly answered the call on the watch, squinting her eyes as Josie came into view.

“Hi Hazel!” Her cheery voice threw her off guard.

“It’s seven in the morning, Josie.” Hazel grumbled, trying to fix her hair.

“That didn't sound like a ‘oh, good morning, Josie’ so I’ll pretend you said that.” Josie quipped back, adjusting herself in her cubicle. “Anyways, Mr. Stark told me to call you because he needs you here, like, immediately.”

Hazel’s eyes shot open. “Wait really?”

Josie hums as she types something on her laptop that was lighting up her screen. “He said in his email, and i quote: ‘call Underoos and get her here immediately. No’ and this is in all caps ‘questions’.”

Hazel rolled her eyes at the nickname. Within the first few days of working under Tony, the nickname came to mind and never left. As much as she wanted to stay in bed with you, she knew she had to see whatever Tony needed her there for. She scrunched up her nose and yawned, nodding and scratching the back of her head.

“I’ll be there soon. Probably 10-20 minutes.” Hazel stretches her free arm, releasing some tension in her biceps and upper back.

“Alright, cool. Oh, wait,” Josie muttered as she stopped typing on her keyboard, leaning back into her roller chair. “Ah, shit. Son of a bitch, dude.”

“What?” Hazel responded as she was about to leave the bathroom so she could hang up.

“No, nothing. I lost at Solitaire against Happy.” Josie shook her head, groaning before typing again on the laptop.

Hazel furrowed her brows before hanging up with a: ‘See you soon’. The last thing she heard was Josie angrily typing as she whispered: ‘Filthy cheater’.

Josie took Solitaire extremely personally.

Hazel slowly crept out of the bathroom as she had forgotten that your Uncle Karter was now home, if not, awake. She tiptoed back into your room, grabbing her bag from the small carpet strawberry right next to your bed. You had adjusted once again in your sleep, snuggling into the plush of your pillow.

You were a fidgety sleeper but she found it adorable. Watching over you right now almost made her stay but she couldn't risk Tony being angry with her. She quickly changed into her suit, walking over to your window to unlock it and crack it open.

Taking one more glance at your unconscious body, Hazel tugged her mask over her face before she shot a web out of the window at a building across the street. She threw her bag over her shoulder as she swung to the apartment building next door all the way to the Stark Tower.

Mid-way there, she suddenly remembered that she didn’t leave a note for you like she usually would when she left so suddenly. She brushed it off and told herself she’d send you a text as soon as she left.

Nothing to worry about.

Right?

taglist: @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #ruby cruz #hazel callahan x you #spider hazel #spider woman #hazel callahan fic

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rabbitsrams · 6 months

Text

snowy mornings - jschlatt x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit suggestive at the end :)

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: its not even close to winter but i wrote most of this in one sitting so enjoy hehe

(moodboard by me, pictures not mine)

The sun barely peeks past the clouds. Small sprinkles of snow are still falling from the gray sky as Schlatt leaves the house.

He's all bundled up. He's wearing at least four layers underneath his coat, something his mother always insisted he do. A hat that you got him as a gift is snug on his head and thermal gloves he's had since he was sixteen keep his hands warm.

He looks through one of the windows of the house as he walks to the sidewalk, knowing you are still sleeping. He wishes he could be back in bed with you. Wishes he could have you in his arms. Wishes he was wrapped in blankets with you by his side as the heater warms the room.

But he's got a shovel in his hand, carrying the thing over his shoulder while he goes to the corner of the block, freezing his ass off even through all the layers.

His poor neighbors, elderly and helpless. They always thanked him whenever he shoveled for them, asking their children to come over and bring him some baked goods once the afternoon came. He didn't do it for some reward or anything, he knew some fucker would try to fall on their unshoveled property and “sue them for all they're worth,” as he told you one time. He just wanted to help them out and make sure their pathways were cleared.

He forgot to bring headphones out, so instead of blasting King Krule and Radiohead, he listened to the scraping of the metal against the concrete. The scraping that echoed throughout the entire block, likely waking light sleepers from their slumber. You were one of those light sleepers, and yet you stayed asleep.

It was taxing going around the corner and back to his house to clear pathways for walkers alike. His neighbors would do it as well but in due time. They weren't early risers like he was. But only in the winter.

Memories of his father waking him and his brother up at ungodly hours to shovel after overnight blizzards crashed their way into New York. Those mornings were silent as well; it was like the grating scraping was music to his father's ears.

He managed to complete all the shoveling in less than an hour, his personal record.

Quickly walking back up the driveway as the sun completely rose, he placed the shovel against the garage and went back inside, shivering and stomping the snow out of his boots.

He yawned as he took his hat off. He placed it on the flat part of the handrail, looking at how the snow immediately started to melt into the fur. The gloves were next, he was shocked his fingers weren't completely numb. Then the jacket, also hastily hung next to yours, untouched since yesterday. The boots were left right by the door to be moved later as he walked up the stairs and to the bedroom where he discarded the extra layers.

He didn't see you stir as he entered the room. Even in your tired state, you could tell he was out of bed. You opened your eyes and saw him undressing, remaining in an old t-shirt from his father's college days and flannel pajama bottoms you often coveted.

You stretch, yawning softly. That gets his attention. He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You're shocked awake by how cold his nose is.

“You're so warm...” he says, your neck muffling his words.

“Baby, you're freezing,” you hum as you pull him into bed with you. “Did you go out and shovel?”

“I always do.”

“Aww...” you kiss him on the cheek as you wrap the blanket around him. “You're so good.”

He hums a response, cuddling close to you. He holds you tight against him, wrapping his limbs around you in an awkward manner.

“You are too fucking tall.” You joke.

“And you are too fucking beautiful,” He kisses your neck many times. “And warm.”

“Go back to sleep, honey. You need to rest.”

“'S long as I can hold you in my arms like this, I'll sleep forever.”

You giggle, your laughter turning into a soft yawn. “Even when you're tired as shit you're still corny...” Your eyes close as you begin to stroke his hair.

He wakes before you once more five hours later. Your hand is still resting on the side of his head while the hand where your wedding ring rests is closer to his face.

He shifts slightly so he can have a better view of you. Your mouth is slightly agape as you breathe, your nose too stuffed for you to breathe through it properly. He can see the gap between your two front teeth, something that makes your smile all the more beautiful.

You eventually wake to the sight of your husband watching you. He’s smiling softly, tiredness still present in his eyes. “Hey, you all warmed up?”

“I am… you’re so pretty…” He lays his head on your chest. You smile, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go get something,” You say as you try to get out of bed. He tries to grab you and bring you back to bed. “Just give me ten minutes, fifteen at most.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You come back ten minutes later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He’s sitting up at this point, a hand running through his messy hair. He smiles when he smells the steaming beverage and reaches his arms out as you place it on the bedside table. You get back into bed and snuggle close to him as he blows on the drink.

“You remembered the marshmallows…” Schlatt says, a yawn obstructing his words.

“Of course I did.” You say. He laughs softly and wraps an arm around you. He tries to take a sip of the hot chocolate but hisses in pain as it burns his tongue.

“Aw, fuck.”

“Burns?”

“Yeah,” Schlatt waves a hand in front of his open mouth to try and ease the pain.

“Want me to kiss it better?” You joke. He nods, leaning close to you. You grin as you cup his face in your hands, the hair on his muttonchops tickling your palms. You press your lips to his softly, letting out a soft noise of surprise when he slides his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and home.

When you pull away, his face is tinted red. “All better?” You ask, feeling your face heat up.

“Um…” Schlatt pretends to think for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He tugs at the hem of your, his, sleep shirt.

“Oh… well I definitely need to do something about that.” You raise your arms above your head and allow him to take the garment off before leaning in once again.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt imagine #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction

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tieronecrush · 11 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter one: southern nights

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI), nothing explicit in this part but future parts will be

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), mild alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self pressure

“I can see a truck pulling up now! C’mere, see if you can get a glimpse of them. You’ve got better eyes.”

Your mother is standing at the side of the picture window in your living room, attempting to stealthily get a good look at the new neighbors moving in next door. Her hand waves you over from where you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, disheveled from the sleep that is still fogging most of your brain.

You definitely have to be half asleep because you comply with your mother’s urgent pleas, the bottoms of your bare feet sticking to the humid wood floors. You are fresh-air people, as your mother says, leaving all the windows and doors open for as long as humanly possible in the summer. It only lasts for the first few weeks of warmer weather, and eventually, everything gets sealed up and the house becomes a frigid ice box with the way your parents crank the air conditioning. Peeling your feet off the floor one last time, you stop in front of the glass.

Standing next to your mother, fully visible in the open window, you study the moving truck that’s pulled into the driveway adjacent to yours.

A local company. Must already be from Austin.

Behind the massive truck, a navy blue Ford pickup that you don’t recognize coasts down the asphalt, getting thrown into park in front of the lawn of the vacant house. Two men, maybe early thirties if you had to guess, climb out of the driver’s side and passenger seat, already talking over each other.

The one at the passenger side has dark brown, nearly black hair that looks just long enough to need a trim and frames his face with curls. Fairly tall, firm build. The white ribbed tank top that he’s wearing hugs his torso underneath the green shirt thrown on over it, buttons undone. He has a shit-eating grin on his face about something that must have been said, hand banging on the side of the car before he walks back towards the bed to grab a cardboard box out of it.

The other, the one that’s come out of the driver’s side, looks a bit older than the passenger. Much more cropped, but still messy, lighter brown hair sweeps down onto his forehead, the back of it curling up slightly at the nape of his neck. Definitely could use a haircut, too, but the bedhead is endearing. A hand reaches up to scratch at the trim beard and mustache that he’s sporting, the facial hair framing his strong jaw nicely. His eyebrows are furrowing in frustration or annoyance, or maybe a bit of both while his head shakes back and forth at whatever his companion joked about. He makes the grumpy stare charming, and you suddenly have the thought that you’d like to know if he’s always got that crease in his brow or if that’s only reserved for the man who was unpacking the truck now. The muscles in his biceps flex as he shuts his door, t-shirt pulling taut over his chest as he steps to open the rear door, a grin growing on his face.

Out from the backseat pops the most adorable little girl you’ve seen. Looks to be about seven or eight years old, maybe, with tiny, sweet features and dressed in a lilac shirt and denim Bermuda shorts. She’s got voluminous, kinky curls that show off natural highlights in the Texas sunshine. She’s giggling and giddy, reaching for the man who opened the door to help her down from the raised truck. He scoops her up, a shriek of laughter coming from the little girl as he slings her over his shoulder. More muscles flex in his back as he carries the weight easily, walking back to the bed of the pickup to grab some bags out of it to bring inside.

So tunnel-visioned on the vignette of family life playing out in front of you, you didn’t even think that you could be seen. A voyeur of your street, you forget that your curtains are drawn, the window is open, and a large pane of clear glass is the only thing in front of you. As if he could feel the burn of your stare, the eyes observing his movements, the man carrying the little girl turns towards your house. His stare catches your own that was already trained on him, a friendly smile plastered to his face as he raises the hand holding the girl in a short wave.

Mortifying. The first impression that your new neighbor, your attractive new neighbor, had of you was you, standing in ratty cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, hair falling out of the hair tie at the back of your head. Heat warmed your cheeks and the back of your neck at the embarrassment of being caught, and of being caught in this outfit.

Your mother next to you erupts in laughter, turning away from the window as you grumble under your breath about that interaction being her fault. Trudging back up the stairs to get ready for the day, annoyance is still twisted in your expression. You skip back down the stairs to the kitchen, dressed and hair fixed up, skidding into the open room to see your dad at the table alone, the newspaper in his hand with the job listing page already pulled out and set at your usual spot.

“Morning, kiddo.”

“G’morning, Dad.”

Sliding into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, you start to look over the listings in search of a summer position to occupy your time at home before you start your last year of university in the fall. There are a few postings for dogwalkers, hostesses, and waitresses that you’ve already seen or applied to in the last week. A couple of bartending jobs catch your eye, thinking about the tips to be made, but your thoughts quickly deflate when they require state licensing.

A huff of disappointment rolls from your lips when your mom comes back inside through the door to the garage, an artful smile pulling at her lips. She’s looking directly at you, the expression making you uneasy in anticipation of whatever news or plan she’s concocted. Your mother meddles, in the most loving way possible, but she can’t help but stick her nose in everyone’s business. So the next words out of her mouth really shouldn’t surprise you, but they do make your stomach turn with newfound anxiety.

“So, I just met the new neighbors. Well, one neighbor and his daughter, I guess. The Millers. His name is Joel, and his daughter’s name is Sarah, she proudly told me she was seven years old and starting the second grade in the fall. The other guy we saw was his brother that he introduced me to, Tommy.”

You’re currently rereading the same job listing over and over again to avoid looking at your mom, feigning disinterest as you nod slowly at what she’s saying. At the same time, your nerves zip in excitement at knowing his name now, and you bite your tongue to ask your mom to continue, knowing she’d tease your eagerness.

Instead, you let her tell you about the rest of the brief interaction, recalling whichever neighborhood Joel had said they moved from and how he and his brother have lived in Austin their entire lives.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you both,” your mom addresses your father for the first time in the conversation, the call to his attention making him lower the newspaper to look at her, a silent nod getting her to continue, “I invited them over for a barbecue tonight to take a break from moving in and have a nice meal after their long day. I’m gonna need you to run to the store for me, and I’ll have to get to cleaning the house…”

Your mom’s plan for the day and list of chores trail off in your ears as a buzz muffles it. Your hot neighbor was coming over to your house, tonight, and you were going to have to face him after being caught blatantly staring.

How great for you.

The sliding screen door pulls shut behind you with a woosh and a click, returning to its pathetic job of keeping insects out of the house while letting the slightly cooler evening air in. Foamy flip-flops smack against the weather-worn oak wood deck as you shuffle over to the large silver grill that your dad commands. Steel wool scrapes against the metal grates of the inside; your dad’s bent over to get better leverage to clean all the burnt bits off.

The beach-themed melamine platter weighs heavy in your hands, covered with burgers, hot dogs, and brats - plus a couple of veggie burgers - to the point where the design of crustaceans and shells in the waves and beach towels laid out on the sand is completely disguised.

“I didn’t ask what they like to eat, so I got everything I could think of! You can’t assume these days with all these new folks moving to Austin, I’m trying to be considerate,” is what your mother said to you when you asked if she was planning to feed the whole block or a small army with the amount of food that was going on the grill.

Don’t even get started on the sides.

You set the platter piled with meat on the webbed black iron patio table to the side of the grill, shuffling over to stand at the edge of the deck, overlooking the chlorine-blue pool water that shines in the slowly fading sunlight. Your parents had installed the in-ground pool the first summer you’d been home from college, jokingly claiming it was their way to make sure you came home every summer, and your brother, Chris, too when he went away to school a short two years after you.

To be honest, it may have been a joke, but it was definitely part of the reason you came back each summer. That, and you just felt more yourself, more at ease at home. It was your comfort zone, but after spending every school year pushing yourself out of your comfort zone academically and socially, you always wanted to return to the warm, sun-soaked home that you grew up in. Maybe that made you more dependent on your parents still, maybe your friends saw it as immature, but you knew what you wanted to do, and you weren’t going to suffer over break just to seem like “an adult” like your friends thought they did.

“You gonna go for a swim, kiddo?”

Your dad’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes back from the wide aperture they had fallen into as you stood mesmerized by the water moving down below you. Clearing your throat, you cross your arms over your chest as you turn back to your dad at the grill, the clicks of the gas burners lighting aflame while he twists the dials at the front.

“Maybe later. Once this attempt of Mom’s to get the first gossip on the new neighbor is over.”

Your dad laughs softly at your lightly satirical joke at your mother’s expense, shaking his head and giving you one of those looks that says ‘just do as your mother says like you always do.’

“Well, you can relax plenty later. Just be on your best behavior for the neighbors, will ya?” He laughs at his own comment, the sarcasm coating the request he’d made. You’ve never made waves in your family, in your friend group, in your neighborhood. Always known as the “sweet girl” to your older neighbors, the “golden child” to your peers and your family. Your initially reserved nature gives everyone the impression that you are a polite, kind Southern belle. If only they could read minds.

Flip flops thwacking with each step as you cross the deck again, slipping inside through the sliding door. Skating past the kitchen quickly before your mom can rope you into helping with more preparation, you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your room to get ready.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that there was a small part of you that was excited to meet Joel. The majority of you burns with embarrassment and is dreading having to face him after getting caught in your voyeurism this morning, but with how attractive he was, it could be a bit fun to have him as a neighbor next door.

Which is why you’re standing in front of your full-length mirror, hair fixed up from the state it was in when he first saw you and a short, light blue sundress on. Eyelets and embroidery covered the dress, the square neckline was framed by cap sleeves. It was modest enough to keep your intentions for dressing up hidden from your parents, but it was revealing enough to make you feel confident to face your hot neighbor for an official introduction.

The next half an hour is spent following your mom’s instructions, most of them being silent points of her finger while she’s absorbed in another task. Every so often you make eye contact with Chris through the patio door, him in the middle of the same treatment from your dad out by the grill.

At one point, your mom is so tunnel-visioned that when you finish the last assignment she’d given you, you slip out to where your dad and brother are now lounging in the chairs around the table on one side of the deck. The metal scrapes against the wood as you pull out one and take a seat, sighing gratefully when Chris passes you a beer from the cooler next to him. The cap twists off with a hiss and a pop, the water from the melted ice dripping onto your chest. As you tip the bottle to your lips and dab off the water before it runs down your skin to the neckline of your dress, the Millers walk up the steps at the side of the deck, tumbling greetings over each other.

Your dad stands, your brother behind him as they take a few steps to meet Joel and Tommy halfway. Polite handshakes are exchanged while you get up out of your seat, beer left on the table to go get the embarrassment over with.

Sarah stands shyly next to her dad, her little shoulder completely encompassed by her dad’s hand as she looks up at all the men around her starting to talk about the latest Astros game. You smile softly at her and give her a wave as you move to stand with everyone, a slight smile growing on her face at someone acknowledging her. She steps away from her subtle hiding place next to Joel, the movement causing Joel to glance down at her before his eyes turn up to you.

A friendly smile ticks up one side of his mouth, brown eyes speckling with caramel highlights as he squints in the sunlight to take a step forward and reach out his hand to you.

“I’m Joel, the new neighbor.”

You give him a firm, polite handshake with a warm grin attached to it, nodding your head.

Please dear God, or whatever is out there, don’t let him mention this morning.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. Hope today hasn’t been too much of a nightmare moving in.” Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel them turn to butterflies when his eyes darken ever so slightly at the word ‘sir’, hand quickly falling out of yours and resting back on Sarah’s shoulder as he clears his throat quietly.

“Hasn’t been too bad, right bug? You wanna introduce yourself?” His eyebrows raise encouragingly to his daughter and the nickname warms your heart, watching as Sarah grows more confident to stand up straight, a smile on her face.

“My name’s Sarah,” she directs towards you and then turns to her dad, waving him to crouch down to her level so she can whisper at the not-so-subtle kid's volume, “What do I say after that?”

Joel chuckles lightly and whispers back to her quietly enough for you not to hear. He stands up straight again, watching Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you, miss!” she turns to Joel again, beaming proudly, “Is that right?”

He nods and looks back at you as you laugh softly, a wide smile on your face from the adorable and incredibly polite greeting Sarah’s given you. His own smile pulls larger as you bend down to be at eye level with her, warmth emanating from you introduce yourself just as Sarah did and fall into conversation with her.

She tells you all about her last school year in the first grade, her favorite toys, and how excited she is for her summer camp. The two of you have moved to sit next to each other on the outdoor couch, your drink forgotten next to you as you listen to the bubbly seven-year-old.

Joel and Tommy stay in conversation with your dad and Chris near the grill, standing around in a semi-circle and making small talk about sports, weather, and the sturdiness of your deck. Joel and Tommy mentioned having a contracting business together, and your dad ran with it, asking them every question under the sun about the longevity of the build that was done a few years ago.

Your mom comes out to join them for a bit, sitting with you and Sarah as you talk with each other before she gathers all the meat fresh off the grill to bring inside and finish setting up everything.

A few more minutes pass before your mom pops her head out and calls everyone in to make a plate. You stand up and wait for Sarah to climb off the couch, following behind her bouncy curls. Everyone’s made it through the door ahead of you, except for Joel as he lingers to wait for his daughter. One of his hands finds her head as he carefully ushers her inside, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Thanks for keeping her entertained. She loves to talk, doesn’t really get that from me,” he drawls out, his accent a bit thicker than yours. You shake your head, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

“She’s the one keeping me entertained, I’m surprised I’m not boring her with my lack of summer plans to discuss. She’s very excited for day camp,” you chuckle quietly, still standing less than a foot from Joel at the sliding door. You can smell the body wash he must’ve used in the shower before coming over, fresh eucalyptus and birch mixing with the richer cedarwood and bergamot of what you assume is his cologne.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. She was begging me to sign her up finally this year and it made sense with my work schedule getting busier. But, still, thanks for hanging out with her.” He nods toward the door, gesturing for you to walk in ahead of him. His hand hovers behind your back as you step in ahead of him, fingers brushing your dress lightly before he quickly pulls them away.

You stand to the side to let the guests go through to get their food first, Joel helping Sarah put everything she wants onto a plate while balancing his own. Tommy happily starts eating what’s already on his plate halfway through the line, earning a jab in the side from his older brother. Once everyone’s gotten what they wanted, you all pile back outside to the deck to sit around and eat.

The table isn’t large enough for everyone, so it ends up being your parents, Chris, and Tommy sitting around it while you, Joel, and Sarah sit around the patio lounge set. Sarah happily sits on the ground at the coffee table, you slipping a cushion down for her to rest on before sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch.

Joel’s settled next to his daughter, facing you as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“So, uh, your dad said you’re going into your last year at TCU? What’re you studying?”

“Public Relations and Advertising. I’m hoping—”

“She wants to move to Boston!” Sarah interjects with a mouthful of hotdog bun.

Joel looks at her with a gently reprimanding look, “Bug, please don’t talk with your mouth full. ‘S not polite.”

He turns back to you after patting his daughter’s curls, lips curled up to one side.

“Boston, huh? What’s all the way up there?”

“Not here,” you laugh softly, shrugging your shoulders as you stab a piece of potato salad with your fork, “I love Austin, don’t get me wrong, but living here my whole life and going to school only three hours away in Fort Worth feels like I haven’t seen much outside of Texas. Plus, there’re some good agencies up there and it’s not as scary of a move like New York or Los Angeles would be.”

Joel nods in understanding, speaking up after he finishes a bite, “I get that. Haven’t lived anywhere but Austin my whole life, but I can understand wanting to experience new things.”

You might be imagining things, but you swear you can hear his voice drop deeper in the last half of his sentence. It sends a flutter between your legs, and the back of your neck burns with chagrin.

Conversation continues to flow easily between you and Joel, and Sarah, too. Your parents don’t ask you to help clean up because you’re so invested, laughing quietly at his subtle humor and smiling widely when Sarah adds in her commentary or tells a story.

Tommy and Chris join you all on the lounge furniture, falling into a wider group discussion of neighborhood politics and what fun things you and Chris got up to when you were around Sarah’s age.

Joel’s eyes stay trained on you whenever you're speaking, even glancing at you when you’re both listening to someone else. The eye contact from him stirs your stomach and hitches your breath, your own stare avoiding his when it gets a bit too intense.

Hours are consumed quickly, the twilight blue skies dimming your backyard so that only the porch and string lights illuminate the deck. Low light and the late hour have soothed Sarah to sleep, her small frame tucked into Joel’s side. He keeps a hand on her back while she rests, everyone looking at her tenderly.

Joel asks you and your mom if you know of any other neighbors with young kids that are going to the park district day camp for the summer, wondering if there’s a possibility to carpool or arrange some care for Sarah when he’s got a busy schedule.

Not knowing anything yourself since you don’t live here full time anymore, you turn to your mom and watch as the gears turn in her head, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Actually, haven’t you been looking for a summer job, honey? Maybe you could nanny Sarah! Drop her off when Joel can’t, pick her up every day, and watch her until Joel gets home from work. That is, if you’d be interested in that, Joel.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to stutter out a response, feeling a bit flustered at your mom’s out-of-the-blue suggestion. Plus, you aren’t sure you could manage to work for your hot neighbor and to see him often; it was one thing to have a crush and pine freely from afar, but spending time in his house? Seeing him every day?

Your thighs press together as your mind races with thoughts about more of Joel in all aspects.

Being the ever-so-polite Southern daughter you were raised to be, you turn to Joel with a glittering smile and nod despite the stomach acid creeping up your throat with your nerves.

“I’d love to help out if you need it. Spending my summer with Sarah would be fun.”

At your confirmation of the offer, Joel pauses for a moment to look down at his sleeping daughter, heading swinging back to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Guess that solves my problem then. Think you can start next week? Her first day is Wednesday.”

Arrangements are made with Joel as the Miller crew gets ready to leave, your own family have said their goodbyes and retiring inside to clean up after the night. Joel and you stand on the deck next to the stairs that lead to your side yard and over to their house. He shifts on his feet, passing Sarah from his arms to Tommy’s for his younger brother to get her home.

Joel’s arms stretch up briefly, giving you the slightest peek at the bottom of his stomach when his t-shirt lifts. Saliva floods your mouth as the thought of kissing there when you’re on your knees for him passes through your mind quickly.

Stop thinking about him like that. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also now going to be employing you.

“Thanks again for offering to nanny, Sarah. She’s gonna be real excited when I tell her in the mornin’. You sure you don’t wanna take the out now?” His hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, a coy smile on his face.

“It’s really no problem at all. Like I said, I think it will be a fun summer.”

There’s no hidden meaning to your words, but for some reason Joel drops your stare after you speak, glancing down at his boots before he raises his head again, his smile a hint wider.

His drawl coats the words as he replies, “Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Joel turns on the heel of his boot, bounding down the short staircase and over toward his yard. He looks back once, a short wave raised towards you as he calls out a ‘goodnight’ to your frozen frame on your deck.

The front door of the Miller house clicks closed and you finally exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Slow movements carry you inside and up to your room, flopping down to your bed on your back. One had rested on your stomach filled with butterflies, the other over your heart to feel the quickened rhythm.

Joel was right, this summer was definitely going to be something. And you were eager to find out what exactly it could be.

series taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn

#joel #writing #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n

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screebyy · 2 months

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Part 3 wheeeee :)))))

and FYI Night of Ascents is referencing the Awoken's celebration on the anniversary of the day they left the Distributary, which was revealed in the Hiera Hodos lore tab that was released w/ this past dawning :)))

Prev | Next Part 1

Panel 1: In the dreaming city, Jolyon is leaning back casually against a white stone wall covered with green vines with pink flowers. His arms are crossed and he is looking down, lost in thought. Crow is walking around a corner towards him, up a rocky path with blue gemstones embedded in natural rock formations. It is almost dusk, and the setting sun is casting soft golden light and deep blue shadows on the scene. Crow: “Jolyon, hi…” Jolyon: “Hey.” Crow: “You wanted to talk?

Panel 2: Close up of Jolyon’s face. He turns his head towards the camera, to glance at Crow from the corner of his eyes. He looks sad and a little uneasy, like looking at Crow is painful for him. Jolyon: “...”

Panel 3: Jolyon turns his head away, looking off into the distance. His expression is not visible. Jolyon: “I used to live out here. When we first came to Sol.”

Panel 4: The landscape Jolyon is looking out at, split into two panels. On the left is the present day in the Dreaming city - the sun is setting behind a ridge, and a white set of stairs is visible winding up the mountainside. There is a white statue embedded in the rock, and there are trees and grass growing along the sides of the staircase. On the right, is the same ridge in the distant past, before the Dreaming City was created - the rocks are barren and desolate, and there is a crashed metal ship painted with red stripes that has long since been abandoned on the mountainside. The windows of the ship are glowing with light from inside. The silhouette of a tall person is inside the ship, opening a sliding hatch on the side of the ship to greet another, shorter person standing outside. Jolyon: “In the hull of an old cargo ship, just under that ridge.”

Panel 5: In present day, Jolyon is still leaning against the wall. He looks down and away from Crow, who is staring out at the landscape. Jolyon: “Before Mara and Riven reshaped everything.” Crow: “I remember...”

Panel 6: Close up of Jolyon’s face in profile. He is staring down at the ground, and looks distant. Jolyon: “...”

Panel 7: Jolyon looks back at Crow with a determined and slightly wary expression. Crow looks back at Jolyon, though his expression is not visible. Jolyon: “You told me about the Dawning. You remember what we celebrate here?” Crow: “Yeah…”

Panel 8: Close up of Jolyon from over his shoulder, as he looks at Crow. His face is not visible. Crow (offscreen): “The Night of Ascents.”

Panel 9: Jolyon turns back towards the ridge, looking up at it with a grave expression on his face. Crow looks away from him, glancing back up at the mountainside with a sad, distant Jolyon: “Do you remember coming here? The first one?” Crow: “...”

Panel 10: Close up of Jolyon, centered around his shoulder. Only the bottom half of his face is visible, and his expression is unreadable - he is still looking forward, out at the ridge instead of at Crow. Crow (offscreen): “I remember.”

Panel 11: Jolyon pushes himself up off the wall, and turns towards Crow. Jolyon: “Technically, it isn’t for a few more weeks, but….”

Panel 12: Close up of Jolyon, staring straight at the viewer. There is still a pained, sad expression in his eyes, though he looks like he’s trying to hide it. Jolyon: “Will you walk with me tonight?”

Panel 13: Close up of Crow, who looks surprised by the request. Crow: “Y-… Yeah.”

Panel 14: Wide shot of Jolyon and Crow climbing the white stone staircase that leads up the mountainside. Jolyon is a step ahead of Crow. Crow: “Of course.”

#hobbies include drawing beautiful men sulking sulkishly #i think there's 2 more Big™️ parts of this '''arc''' and then i'll probably switch to doing a mix of comics & fics #though one of those parts might be too big and need to be split up into 3 smaller parts for my sanity idk #jolyon till #crowlyon #crow destiny #destiny 2 #i dont want to do backgrounds any more save me clip studio asset store

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barbieaemond · 5 months

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Intrusion (part I)

moodboard by the queen herself @zae5

PAIRING: (modern) Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader

WARNINGS: angst, Aemond has no filter, drug use (very brief), mentions of overdose, suggestive themes, sexual tension (sadly nothing more but part II will be a helluva ride)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sothoryos is a large continent in Martin’s universe. It is located below Essos.

WORD COUNT: 7k

Song for this fic:

taglist: @zae5 @chompchompluke @multyfangirl

“What’s up with the green light?”

Jason's voice came distantly, even though he was sitting right next to her. She looked up through her long eyelashes, scanning the mighty, green-lit Hightower from top to bottom, an emerald glow kissed her face.

“How dumb are you? It was a beacon once.” She said mindlessly, dragging her eyes away from the car window to watch her brother crouched on a little mirror with three lines of white powder on it.

“D’you want some?”

“I’m done with that shit.”

“I should hope so.” He chuckled, rolling a banknote between his fingers with the expertise of a magician ready to do his trick. “Dad is still paying the hospital to keep their mouth shut. Not to mention the papers…”

She heard him snort the substance, humming with delight as it reached his brain. She looked at him for a moment, green just like the glowing light on her face. It was so easy for Jason to surrender to the void. She struggled to do even that.

“Speaking of which” he said wiping his nose “he could’ve bothered to come.”

“And watch Otto Hightower gloat in his face? Dad would rather throw checks to the homeless.”

“Why are we here then?” he asked as the car stopped in front of the huge, tall building, the tallest in all the continent.

“Because he wants to remind everyone we are still the wealthiest in this wretched world.” She said she grabbed her little purse and got out of the fancy car as soon as the driver opened her door.

Blinding lights fell on her as photographers took note that the Lannister family had sent its scions to attend the annual Gala held by the Hightowers. A party that had always been held in the capital in the previous years, at least until what the newspapers had called the divorce of the century.

“I would not be so sure about that.” Jason said, squinting his eyes in front of the ruthless flashes. “Papers say Viserys is going to pay a fortune, for alimony and all that shit.”

“Miss Lannister! Here, please! On your right!”

She built a broad smile for the photographers, maneuvering her hair to let it slide down her shoulder, placing a hand on her hip. A well-thought-out act, repeated incessantly for as long as she could remember. A beautiful machine doll bathed in gold and diamonds.

“Do you still read papers?” she asked, not breaking her plastic smile.

“How else should I find out if I've done something illegal?”

“They’re a reliable source on that, less on others. They claim I had a thing with Cregan Stark when even walls know he’s gay.”

They claimed many other things. But she never confirmed or denied the rumors, because it was all part of the plan.

Any rumor of an alleged flirt or talk of an engagement with a scion from one of the old power families of the country only increased the height of the pedestal on which her father and mother had placed her. So that when rumors died, the vultures would come even more savage, raising the stakes to win the most coveted prize in their circle of starched shirts and centuries-old privileges that no longer had any value except in the small, greedy world inside their small, greedy heads.

She moved, swiftly but graciously, and stepped inside the building, followed by her brother and his giggles, and the photographers screaming at the top of their lungs, begging for another picture—just one more. The begging had started already.

The Hall of the Hightower Palace was a sight to behold. Adorned with green and dark tones, crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings and yellow cocktail music pushing all the fine-dressed people to chat and laugh more loudly as if they unconsciously tried to imitate the lively ups and downs of the notes.

The Lannisters lingered on the entrance, immediately catching many pairs of eyes, greedy and green as the decorations around them.

“Are they waiting for us to go greet them?” Jason asked, watching the Hightowers at the center of the Hall. “Gods, why do they always act as if they were royals and us merely subjects?”

"Apparently, it has been proven they have hints of blue in their blood.”

“Who’s the blondie?” he asked, taking his sister’s arm as they walked towards the hosts.

“Helaena Targaryen.”

“Oh! The freak?”

“She’s not a freak. She’s a renowned entomologist.”

“And my point stands.”

Miss Lannister knew all the four Hightowers waiting to be greeted. After all, who didn't?

Otto Hightower was the most influential man in the country, although he liked to hide and pull his strings behind the curtains. They said that family and strangers made no difference to him. His daughter Alicent would agree with a stiff lip.

She wore the most lavish dress of all, but that was not what caught the eye, but rather the determination in her gaze and the way she stood. A woman free from the chains of a marriage she had never wanted.

“It is a pleasure to have both of you here.” She said smiling at the two Lannisters. Her father Otto was towering just behind her, a curious look on his face as his eyes rapidly scanned Miss Lannister.

In fact, he stepped in, saying “Indeed, Alicent. Especially Miss Lannister. I’m relieved to see you well.”

After what happened in Pyke, was the part he deliberately omitted.

The young woman looked at him, unfazed, building another one of her plastic smiles and then directed her attention to the youngest son of Alicent and Viserys Targaryen. Daeron.

The boy was no more than twenty, but he had a way of standing and carrying himself, which gave him at least five more years. That was the price of being doomed to inherit a heavy family name and all within it. The young Lannister girl understood it all too well.

As for Helaena, she seemed the most out-of-place creature, like watching a dolphin swim along sharks. The Lannister girl didn’t know her that much; truthfully no one did. Helaena was always far away from the country for her studies, traveling to the edge of the world to discover wild and rare creatures. She had a way of avoiding eye contact, Miss Lannister noticed, if not for brief and furtive glances, as if she was afraid that if she looked too much, she would see too much.

“And you don’t call that a freak?” Jason asked once they moved away from the Hightowers.

“You are just sour because she barely looked at you.” his sister answered, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Hey. I’m nice to look at!” he said gesturing to his figure.

“You tell yourself that.” she sipped her bubbly like water, barely tasting it, as her eyes roamed around the lavish hall, watching the same old play unfold, with the same old puppets. And she was one of them, perhaps the main star, ready to follow the script and never stray from it. It was her purpose in life. A well-trained parrot with a melodic laugh and the stillness of a porcelain doll.

She looked around and saw the eagerness, the anticipation as they bided their time before flocking to her, begging for flesh and money and power, each one of them so eager to sell one piece of themselves to be on a golden plate, the very same on which everything was always freely given to her. Things, places, people. The Golden Girl, they called her. She was born in it, she reflected it. She never had to ask, she never had to beg for anything. While everyone around her seemed to be able to do nothing else.

"Miss Lannister, we would love to have you as our guest in High Garden. Please, consider our invitation."

"Miss Lannister, did your father receive the gift I sent him last week? Please, have him contact me as soon as possible, I have another proposal for a collaboration."

"Miss Lannister, please, convince your father not to cut off the funds, I wouldn't know what to do without the invaluable support of your bank.”

“Miss Lannister, please—"

Please. Please. Please. Please.

They all came muffled, the beggars and their begging, as if speaking from the surface while she was deep down underwater, floating. Then the puppet would take over, moving haughtily and mischievously, promising lies with empty smiles and stolen words. The same old power play, to tell the world the Lannisters were far above it.

But amid the muffled chatter and greedy eyes, there was one in particular, stripped of all reverence, blue and cold as the eye of the scientist dissecting something under a microscope.

He had placed her under the lens out of pure boredom.

He never attended these kinds of gatherings, at least not after Sothoryos, not after Floris. He was there only because his mother had insisted, almost pleaded with him. This was the first public event after the divorce. It was essential to appear close, united.

The word tasted rotten in Aemond's mouth.

He had made sure Aegon would not attend, and had come in through the back, creeping into the hall like a spectre.

Alicent had seen him at once, her eyes widening with surprise as if she were certain he would not come. And they had barely talked.

She had kissed him on the cheeks with that look in her eyes, the one that rose tenderness and contempt at once inside him, twin flames mirroring and dancing around each other. His mother's lips opened and closed repeatedly, like a record needle cutting the same groove on and on without making a sound. And he had no desire to fix that.

Once, maybe. He had nurtured so many unspoken words that they had ended up souring and festering the more he held them back, locked in a dark corner where no light filtered. So, his mouth stayed sealed and silent, like a tomb.

He had withdrawn to a corner of the hall, watching as the people lingered with their gazes on his dead eye, half curious, half scared. Something he was all too used to. He found himself cursing under his breath for wasting time in such a vapid and useless way. He could have been at home, studying, or working in the basement.

But then he had spotted her.

It was hard not to.

The moment she had entered the hall with her brother, it seemed she had drawn all attention to herself, absorbing all the light from the chandeliers. It seemed that her golden dress was truly made of gold.

Aemond had seen her once or twice in the past and each time, two distinct thoughts had rapidly crossed his mind.

First: that she was a pretty doll with more money in her pocket than cells in her brain.

Second: that he wouldn't mind taking her doll's clothes off.

No man with sense would have denied her beauty, but the more he looked at her, the more he saw how dry she was, how cold, like a sculpture doomed to live the same moment forever.

It was all scene, all pose. And Aemond understood it at once since he himself had enacted the same play in the years past. He knew what it meant to be an inanimate thing waiting to be moved by others, for duty or loyalty. Things that had lost all meaning to him once he’d found out that the more he latched on these things, the more hollow he felt.

He watched the Lannister girl build fake smiles at each turn and he found himself grimacing, feeling pity for her, almost contempt. Perhaps she was just a tool, an extension of his former self for him to loathe, like spitting into a mirror.

But he just couldn’t stop watching.

She had a way of making the place where she stood like some kind of holy shrine and everyone around her kept scrambling to fall at her feet. She had a way of moving, slowly, like a creature living underwater. She would lean forward as she listened to people, only to retreat when it was her turn to speak, and she did it quietly, making the privileged speaker unconsciously lean towards her.

A tactic—a working tactic, though. Because Aemond had found himself craning his neck forward more than he would’ve liked to admit, and he wasn't even close to her.

“Choosing your next victim?”

He turned on his blind side as Helaena stopped beside him, handing a flute of champagne.

“Hāedar.” he said, taking the glass “Don’t say that. With all the shit they say about me, tomorrow they might title I’m a serial killer.”

“Well, you do have a dank basement in your place. And with the way you keep looking at the Lannister girl, it would be hard to beat the allegations.”

He looked down at the sizzling bubbles and curled his lips. Helaena did the same as her blue eyes scanned his face. Of all her brothers, she had always had the closest bond with Aemond. Born only one year apart, they had grown up as close as twins. Helaena did not look down when she talked to Aemond; she did not stutter or struggle to voice her thoughts as she did with anyone else. And his lips, which struggled so much to voice his emotions, always curled up in the most spontaneous way when they spent time together.

“You won’t get away with a smile, though.” She pointed out after a sip of bubbly “You barely talked to me earlier.”

“I was afraid our mother would stir up a hornet’s nest seeing me here.”

“She was sure you wouldn’t come.”

“I shouldn’t have. This place smells of coffin.”

She watched him for a moment, trying to guess his mood and, therefore, whether it was a good time to speak. “Did you get my message last week?”

His eye remained fixed on the elated crowd, but Helaena didn’t miss the slight twitch in his lips. “I did.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“What was there to say?”

“Aemond, I know you have your grudges, but... he’s our father and he’s severely ill. He wants to see us, all of us, at Summerhall, next month. I want to believe he’s changing and—”

“Must I remind you what happened the last time we had a family heart to heart?”

She did nothing but cast a single, saddened glance to his dead eye and all her willingness to talk and try to make things better withered like a leaf in a frosted land.

“He’s changing because he already has one foot in the grave. Quit the fancy words, Hel, he’s not changing. He’s just trying to relieve his conscience. A bit late for that, no?” and he downed his champagne in one gulp.

“Aem—”

“I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t care.” He said, slipping his pack of smokes from his pocket and placing one cigarette between his lips. He glanced one last time at his sister and with the coldest distance he said “But do let me know when he dies. I'll toast to that.”

She had had three flutes of champagne while talking to a countless number of faceless beggars when she started to feel nauseated. She didn’t even know by what, whether it was the champagne, the people, or herself. Perhaps all of them.

The cold night air embraced her as she went out on the terrace, making the hairs on her arms stand and her half-covered spine shiver. She had not brought her coat with her, but she did not mind. The cold awoke her from her torpor, made her stop being a relic on a mantelpiece.

She slipped a cigarette between her lips and looked into her purse for the lighter. "No, no, no—" she said to no one, frantically feeling every nook and cranny of the purse. "Fuck!"

"Here."

She jumped, turning her head just in time to see a lighter flying towards her. She caught it, staring at the dark corner on her left. There was a man sitting there, wrapped by the shadows, except for a thin white hand laying on the table, long fingers, and half a cigarette resting between index and middle.

She squinted, trying to get a better look. “I can’t see you.”

“I do.”

It was just a simple statement, but his tone was strange, riddled with an edge of shrewdness.

She stared at the dark figure for a moment longer, then lit her cigarette and walked a few steps closer.

"I would like to know who I'm speaking to, stranger." She said, handing over the lighter.

A moment later the shadow stood up, and she had to lift her chin as she watched the glow of the lamps unraveling his face, sharp like a knife. The air hitched in her throat, her gaze inevitably caught by the blue of his eye, as well as the dead blue of the prosthetic. "Oh."

His arched mouth bent upwards. "Define your oh."

“It’s just a oh, you’re not a stranger after all.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, curiously tilting his head with a ghosting grin “What do you think you know about me? Aside from what you read on gossip papers.”

“I don’t read gossip papers.”

“Yes, you do. All the girls like you do that.”

“All the girls like me?”

“Dolls with a trust fund to squander before forty.”

She raised her eyebrows, quickly scanning the young man before her. He was clad in black, with a black turtleneck and a leather jacket, accentuating his sharp features and pale face framed by short hair, a bit curly but neatly styled. “You’re the one to talk, Mr. I have blue blood in my veins.”

“I don’t work for my family.” He said matter-of-factly “They don’t pay my rent and they don’t cover up my shit.”

“Mine neither.”

His eyebrow raising was enough to dismantle her lie right away. “Papers say otherwise.”

“Do you trust papers and their cheap rumors?”

“Hmm. Trust is a strong word. But true or false, rumors are often more revealing than facts.” he took a long drag on his cigarette, narrowing his eyes and she watched as the dead one remained unnaturally still. It was not disturbing, she thought. It gave him a sinister allure, catching her off guard.

“Then I should believe all the rumors about you and your...charming mystery.”

“They say I’m charming now?” he asked with a smirk.

“I believe they called you a sphinx” she deadpanned “before claiming you hit a journalist, a woman.”

“And which one do you think is more likely?”

She looked at him uncertainly. Well, he was charming. But he was a lot more mysterious. More than a sphinx, Aemond Targaryen was a living riddle.

Even before the accident in Sothoryos, from where he returned with an eye missing, the second-born son of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower was a foggy figure, often in the shadows, more than often in the shadows of someone else, his half-sister Rhaenyra, his older brother Aegon. And after Sothoryos, he seemed to have grown his own shadows, distancing himself from his family and dropping his academic career to do Gods-know-what in a small flat in the oldest quarter of Oldtown.

“Both?” she dared.

He clicked his tongue, looking away with disappointment, and flicked the cigarette. “Too easy. And now you’re boring me.”

“I shall take my leave, then.” she chirped with a tight smile.

“Don’t expect me to follow you. I am not one of those wankers inside who come in their pants as you bat your fake eyelashes.”

The smile left her face instantly, and she glared at him, throwing her half-cigarette on the ground. “It is true, then. Royals do act like the rudest jerks.”

Instead of looking offended, her words seemed to do nothing but tickle his pride—some kind of gratification that poured like poison from the angles of his mouth. “I don’t act. But if I wanted to, I'd know who to turn to.”

“Meaning?”

“And you keep boring me.” his eye went momentarily below her neck, and he tilted his chin “Are those pretty diamonds slowing blood to your brain?”

Miss Lannister looked stunned. No one, ever, dared to talk to her like that.

She was used to being praised and begged and praised. A beautiful portrait framed by gold and hung on a wall for all to see. She should have been outraged, she should have used her last name as shield and threat. But for once, she was breathing on her own, free of any strings.

“Are they real?” he asked suddenly, and she stilled as his hand ghosted on her necklace, feeling his cold fingertips hovering above her skin.

“Of course they are.”

“Hmm.” He mused, pulling his hand back as he continued to stare at the necklace and then down at her dress. “They serve their purpose I’d say.” he said dragging his eye back to her face.

“Slowing my brain?” she asked with a little vitriolic smile.

“Hiding all the fake beneath them.”

“Who are you, a fortune teller?” she spitefully asked. “Do you possess the Third Eye as well as the Fake One?”

“One eye is enough to see right through you, golden girl.”

“And why were you watching me if I am so blatantly obvious?”

He almost shrugged his shoulders. “These parties are dreadfully boring. I was in need of a distraction, and you were hard to miss.”

“I could say the same about you.” Her gaze flicked for an instant to his dead eye. “Except that I don’t hide in dark corners from my own family.”

Whether he was stung by her words or not, his composure remained utterly impassive. A sphinx through and through.

“No. You do it before them.” An amused smile, spiced up with poison, curled his lips. “At least I have the dignity to disappear instead of begging for attention like a pathetic creature.”

Her words did not sting, but his surely did. And they shouldn’t.

They had crossed paths once or twice in the years prior, but effectively, Aemond was but a stranger to her. She wasn’t even aware of him watching her inside the hall, maybe too absorbed in her puppet play, or maybe resigned to scream into a crowded room of deaf mannequins.

She swallowed heavily, not dropping her gaze, waiting for all the gold to shield her, hide her, serving its purpose once more. But Aemond had a strange look in his eye. He was staring at her, and what he saw thrilled him.

He was sure he would see harshness, contempt, but not that. Not…anguish. It was buried in her pretty eyes and yet it just lied there in full sight, the darker shade of abyss beneath the crystalline blue of the deceiving surface.

If only someone had bothered to look.

“You remind me of someone.” he said almost mindlessly.

“Do I dare asking or do you wish to offend me some more?”

He seemed to ponder for a while, looking at her as if he were measuring an opponent.

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

He moved, leaving the terrace without waiting for her, sure enough she would follow him. And she did.

Not immediately, though. She stared at his tall figure as he went back inside and thought she should go back to the party, go back to the script. There was something uncanny, almost eerie about staying close to him, like walking on the thin thread of a cobweb while being dreadfully aware to be walking towards the spider’s bite.

But the dread made her feel alive, made her heart pounding in her throat. So, she followed him.

“I didn’t know your family had it.” She said with a tinge of amazement as they stopped before the painting gloriously exhibited along one of the lavish corridors upstairs. “I thought it got lost during some war.”

“It was.” He said, stopping beside her, eye roaming on the canvas.

“Did I remind you of a lost anonymous painting?”

“You reminded me of the Maiden.” And his eye flicked to the left of the painting. Then he dragged his gaze on her, turning his head, and watched her. “Do you know the story?”

“The myth?”

“You don’t believe it to be true?”

“I don’t believe in Gods. Or myths.”

“That is strange, coming from a girl who spent so much time building her own.”

She turned her head and looked at him. He was smiling subtly, but it was different this time. There was no poison dripping from the angles of his mouth, but the clearest intrigue.

It stopped her heart for a moment. A sudden cut in the canvas, a crack in the porcelain. And she felt that this stranger was peeking inside, or perhaps she was.

Aemond looked back at the painting and laced his arms behind his back, making the leather of his jacket creak. “They said once there was a land inhabited only by Gods and Monsters. The Maiden was the most beautiful Goddess in the Holy Garden. She grew flowers from her hands, trailing behind her as she walked. But she was unhappy. The Gods only sought her for her gift, used her as a piece of ornament. She was beautiful on the outside, but inside—”

“Lonely and hollow.” she filled in.

“Just like the Stranger.” he said, and they turned at the same time, locking their eyes.

Aemond glanced back at the ominous figure in the painting and said “He was not allowed to enter the Gods world. He lived underground, blowing his mortal winds to call the souls into his realm of death. But then he saw her. He dried her tears through his wind until one day—”

“He took her.” she filled in once more. “He used the wind to tie her hands with the flowery branches she grew and kidnapped her from the Holy Garden.”

“Are you sure kidnapped is the right word?”

“According to the myth? Yes. You might have been a great scholar, but I’m not a goat.”

He chuckled quietly, and the sound made her turn again to watch him.

He held her gaze as amusement left his marbled features, and without taking his eye off her, he tilted his chin towards the painting “Look at her. Look at her face and tell me what you see."

She did so, observing the anguish, the dark trepidation on the Maiden’s face.

“She is frightened.”

“Is she?” he asked, and suddenly he was almost behind her. His breath tickled her ear like the wind on a hot summer day, and her breath hitched once more. “Look into her eyes.” he whispered on her nape “Is it fear to be taken…or desire?”

She swallowed, keeping her eyes fixed on the painting, and dug her nails into the expensive fabric of her little purse. “Art is not math.” she said with confidence “There is not one undisputable interpretation.” And she turned to face him “So unless you painted that, and I have some doubts, you say she’s keen on being taken. I say she’s frightened.”

Aemond stared at her for a moment with a strange new look on his face, as if someone had just issued a challenge to him. His blue eye was wide, and the little smirk was peeking through his lips. “Do you ever choose a position, golden girl?”

“I think I just did.”

“Allow me to rephrase, then. A less boring position.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he was faster. “Let me show you something a little less ambiguous.”

"Wow, these are beautiful," she said as they climbed the stairs to the floor above the one where the glorious anonymous painting stood. On the angled wall, a series of photographs were exhibited—portraits, precisely—all in black and white.

"Are we complimenting each other now?" he asked, halting on a step.

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment before slightly widening her eyes. "What, these are yours?"

He gave her a simple nod, and she looked back at the portraits.

"My mother put them here. Her way to prove she cares, I guess." He said absent-mindedly, as if conversing about the weather.

The Lannister girl watched him closely, in search of something that would betray such a cold statement, but there were no cracks, no cuts.

"The great mystery unraveled.” She said forcing a dramatic tone “Aemond Targaryen is a photographer."

"I am not. I don’t do it for a living.”

“Yes, because you don’t need a job to get by.”

“Look who’s talking.”

She glared at him, trying with poor success to stifle a smile.

“It's just an interest." He stated.

"A passion." she dared to suggest.

"I wouldn't call it that. Passion preludes emotion, ardor. Photography is nothing like."

She watched him fold his arms behind his back in a peculiar way, grabbing his forearms with his hands. He had done the same thing earlier, in front of the painting. The gesture caught her attention then, as it did now.

"What is it then?" she asked, trailing her eyes back to his face.

He stared at her for an impossible long time before answering. “Revelation.”

She looked back at the portraits and observed them thoroughly. There were some men caught behind the camera, but the majority were all women. Young and beautiful women.

The portraits were majestic, she considered. He had found a way to toy with light which made these people look like glimpses from an otherworldly dimension, flashes of dreams.

No, not dreams, she thought.

The light was cruel, exposing, cutting. And all the subjects seemed to have been caught in a moment of great distress, flowing almost into a grotesque despair.

Flashes of nightmares.

The sight made her lips part, her skin shiver with eeriness and something else, something she could not name. The same basic instinct that had pushed her to follow him. These people, made eternal by black and white, were dressed, but their souls utterly naked before the eye.

“I wouldn’t call it revelation…”

“And what would you call it?” he asked, stepping beside her to watch the portrait, not missing her little startle when his elbow brushed against hers.

She took a deep, silent breath and turned her head to look at him. "Intrusion.”

“Hmm.” He mused, slipping his pack of smokes from his pocket “Intrusion of which kind?”

He placed the cigarette between his lips only to see her hand snatching it away, but slowly, just like she was used to move, so much that her fingertip brushed his upper lip. “Any kind.” she answered and his eye fell on her rosy lips closing around the filter.

His mouth twitched, as if her light brushing had lit his skin aflame, and he moved unconsciously, bringing the lighter close but pausing, his thumb lingering on the little wheel, and he looked at her, just as she looked at him.

When he pushed his finger to light the flame, the short metallic sound came through with a strange finality, a curtain dropping after the first act.

She lit the cigarette and took a long drag, glancing at the portraits and then back at him. “Did you fuck these women?”

“No.” was all he said, hiding a little smirk as he slipped another smoke between his lips. He saw her raising her eyebrows with clear disbelief, so he clarified. “Not all of them.”

“I bet they revealed themselves thoroughly.”

“They were more than keen to do it.”

“And did you?” she countered, tilting her head, lowering her voice so that once again, he found himself leaning towards her, like a moth to a flame. “Did you reveal yourself as well? Did you let them intrude?”

“Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.”

She clicked her tongue and laughed—the very first genuine laugh she could conjure up in the span of hours, or even days. “Now you’re just trying to impress me.”

“Yes. And unfortunately for you, it is working.”

She gave him a bemused look at his brazen statement, but she felt strangely exposed under his unblinking stare, a hand ending her ceaseless floating to anchor her against the seabed.

“I want you to come to my place," he said suddenly, his voice kept quiet, almost soft, to the verge of whispering. It wrapped her senses like a soothing lullaby.

“I want to take your picture.”

“Why? To end up on this wall and in your bed like dozens of girls before me?”

“Dozens?” he raised an eyebrow “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.”

“Hmm” he crooned, cocking his head to one side, a contented expression stretching on his face, much like a cat licking its whiskers. “Envy doesn’t suit a Lannister.”

“Envy?” she repeated, laughing scornfully. “You’re an arrogant brat, has anyone ever told you?”

“Many in fact. So, shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Pity, I thought you had stopped boring me.” He said pocketing his lighter “Stay here playing the doll with those old fogeys, if you like. I’m leaving.”

She had only time to blink and he was gone, leaving her on those steps with the foreign, unsettling longing to follow. Her feet moved on their own, dragging her back to the party with an urgency shaking her bones, pushing her eyes to dart in every corner of the hall, moving amongst the people as if chasing the wind.

“Oh, there you are!” Jason pulled her to him, and she stilled, as she was used to, but everything inside her kept moving. “That Lonmouth smartass came at me screaming like a chicken.” Jason said with cocaine pupils, slurring words after words “as if it’s Dad’s fault that he’s an idiot. Put him in his place, would you? I’m too high, I might stick a fork between his eyes. D’you you want to hear something funny?”

“No, Jason. I don’t.” she replied absently, looking around once more “Listen, did you see Aemond Targaryen?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She said, wriggling herself from his hold, but he was fast to pull her back “Sis, why are you looking for that creep?”

“Let me go, Jason.”

“Listen to me. First the shit show in Pyke and now Aemond One Eye? Dad would not be happy to know you are—”

“Dad would not be happy to know fucking anything that he has not concocted and told us to do. And I’m tired of it, Jason.” She hastily broke free from his grip, alerting the well-dressed people around them, but she ignored them altogether. “Just this once, you’ll have to play the puppet. I’m done for tonight.” she tugged the pocket square from his jacket and threw it at him. “And wipe your nose, for Gods’ sake. There’s coke on it.”

She wandered inside the huge hall like walking through quicksand, sinking a little more any time another man or woman stopped her to chit chat, to ask her about her father and the bank and the next slot in her father's agenda.

As if she had any clue. As if her father had not dismissed any of her natural vocations like wrong bills to be fed to the shredder only to make her study economics, only to frame her degree, and then instruct her himself to specialize in the sacred act of parading herself around like a rare stuffed creature.

“Here you are.” A hand slipped around her waist, and she found herself enveloped by two familiar hands. “I’ve looked for you anywhere.”

“Quentin.” She said, looking into the dark glinting eyes of Quentin Martell, slightly wrinkling her nose for the heavy male perfume in which he had apparently dunked his suit.

His eyes scanned her slowly, looking like he wanted to peel her dress off like an orange. “Always outshining anyone else, are you?”

She looked away, stifling an exasperated sigh, all too used to Quentin’s redundant flatteries.

“This party is dead, isn’t it? And rather self-celebratory from the Hightowers. As if they don’t owe their current position to Viserys Targaryen.”

She glanced at him and saw her father talking. It was one of his favorite refrains at breakfast, lunch or dinner. It made no difference to him. Any time was a good time to incense themselves as the best, the wealthiest, the proudest, and hundreds of more superlatives that made the food instantly go rancid in her mouth.

Distractedly, her eyes roamed around, numbing her ears while Quentin kept talking. It was then that she saw him. He had not left.

Holding a glass of some liquor, he seemed to be in deep conversation, or rather on the receiving end of a soliloquy from his grandfather, who was leaning slightly over him, almost talking to his ear.

His eye was absently buried to the floor, one long finger tapped against the glass. A couple of words she could not make from that distance slipped from his mouth, resigned as his whole demeanor.

She thought she was looking into a mirror.

“Honey, are you listening to me?” Quentin asked at some point, tightening the hold on her waist. “Who are you looking at so rapt?”

“No one.” she hurried to say. But Quentin was quicker to follow her gaze before she dropped it. “Aemond One Eye?” he said on the verge of mockery. “Baby, he is so out of your league.”

She cocked her head and plastered a tight smile on her lips. “And precisely, what do you know about my league?”

“You know what I mean. How blind can you be not to notice that your brother has been screwing your girlfriend behind your back for months? Oops, sorry, wrong metaphor.”

“Both the Baratheons and the Targaryens have denied it.”

“Sure, sure. Then why the Baratheons were not invited tonight? And why did the one eyed come? He never does. Oh wait, look at that, Aegon’s missing. Not surprising though, didn’t they say Targaryens used to fuck amongst their own in the old times?”

She lowered her gaze, lost in thought, and then turned her head, instantly widening her eyes, shoulders tensing when she saw Aemond looking straight at her, sipping his drink, straightening the cobweb’s thread on which she had been tottering until that moment.

“Baby, are you high again?” Quentin asked her, with a genuine, inquisitive tone.

“What?”

“You’re shivering. Greyjoy told me everything about that night. Said you went batshit crazy on coke. Depraved as he is, it’s actually a good thing that you OD’ed. That creep would have fucked you even that stoned.”

She immediately grabbed his arms, trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Let me go.”

“Oh, come on.” He nothing but hold her more tightly. “I know you like to get a little freaky once in a while. I do, too. In fact, why don’t we take a tour upstairs? We could cheer up this drag.”

“No. Quentin, let me go.”

“Come on.” He insisted, pulling her to his chest.

She had to step on his foot to shake him off. “Let me cut straight to the point. I won’t fuck you, Quentin. Not tonight, not even if you were the last man left on this earth.”

He grimaced, spitefully twisting his mouth like any man who's been denied the chance to feel like a man for a few minutes. “I had warned Greyjoy about this. I told him you’re a spoiled cunt. You know what? You should get with that Stark fag. He may fuck your ass, so maybe you’d feel something 'cause I’m sure as hell your cunt is drier than the Red Waste.”

The insults were also part of the play.

After all, the act might not please everyone in the stalls. “Just shrug them off. They’re praises, actually, disguised bitterly for what they cannot have.” her mother said “Besided, a lion does not concern itself with the opinion of the sheep.”

When she was younger, each bitter word was a giant finger pointed at her, a gavel sealing the next judgement. Her mother had tried with all her carelessness to teach her how to be exactly that. Careless, a river flowing in its direction no matter the filth that would pollute the waters.

But she was draining, ever since Pyke, perhaps long before that.

She was tired of pretending to be gold while her fingertips seemed to leave behind nothing else but ash.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like to be tagged when I post part II, leave a comment below 🫶

#intrusion #liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #Spotify

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hd-junglebook · 28 days

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Falling For It

Part 6 - Word Count 3067

This was kind of fun to write, part 7 should be done by Friday...I hope.

Prev … Next

Y/N descended the winding staircase, her bare feet padding softly against the polished wooden steps. The open layout of the Lakehouse allowed the warm glow of the moon to filter through the expansive windows, bathing the living room in a pale blue hue.

As she reached the bottom step, Y/N paused, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her long, tousled hair. She surveyed the room, taking in the scene before her with a small, contented smile.

In the kitchen, Quinn and Nico stood behind the sleek white marble island, their hands moving deftly as they prepared a colorful array of drinks.

Quinn, with his messy brown hair and vibrant blue eyes, laughed heartily at something Nico said, his head thrown back in genuine amusement as he poured a generous amount of tequila into a line of shot glasses.

Nico, tall and lean with a cleaner more sophisticated mop of his own hair, chuckled as he sliced limes with practiced precision, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Dude, if we keep this up, we'll be carrying people to bed tonight," Nico remarked, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's heavy-handed pouring.

Quinn simply shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, it's not a real party until someone's not getting carried to bed." Y

/N chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head at their antics. Her gaze drifted to the living room, where Heather and Ang were sprawled out on the plush rug, their legs tucked beneath the dark wooden coffee table.

Heather bit her lip in concentration as she shuffled a stack of colorful cards while Ang leaned forward eagerly, her dark eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ooh, I see some juicy dares in here," Ang sing-songed, waggling her perfectly arched eyebrows. "Tonight's gonna be wild."

Heather snorted, tossing a card back into the pile. "Please, you just want an excuse to make out with Jesper."

The soft, sultry beats of an R&B track drifted through the air, undoubtedly one of Luke's carefully curated playlists. Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips, the familiarity of the music and the easy camaraderie of her friends settling over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

She stepped fully into the room now, easily sliding behind ang and heather to sit on the plush cushions of the couch. Just as she began to get comfortable Quinn and Nico made their grand entrance, their voices echoing through the room as they carried the trays of drinks.

Quinn carefully set the tray down on the coffee table, the glasses clinking together melodically. Nico followed suit, his lean frame moving with an easy grace as he placed his own tray beside Quinn's. He straightened up, running a hand through his hair, and surveyed the room with a questioning gaze.

Quinn placed his hands on his hips, his brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the small gathering.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "I thought this was supposed to be a party."

Ang chuckled, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth as she leaned back on her hands. "Oh, I have a feeling the real fun is just about to begin," she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. "These truth or dare cards are no joke."

As if on cue, the sound of laughter and footsteps echoed from the hallway, signaling the arrival of the rest of their friends. Y/N felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, knowing that the night was about to take an interesting turn.

Y/N reached for her glass, the cool condensation kissing her fingertips as she brought it to her lips. She took a sip, the sweet tang of the drink dancing on her tongue, and settled back into the couch.

Quinn's face split into a wide grin as he rubbed his hands together like a cartoonish villain. "Perfect timing," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Let the games begin." He rubbed his hands together with such enthusiasm that Nico had to duck to avoid getting smacked in the face. "Dude, watch the merchandise," Nico grumbled, smoothing his hair back into place.

Quinn opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his lips as his jaw suddenly went slack. His eyes widened comically, and he froze, his hands still held up in mid-rub.

Y/N, Heather, and Ang exchanged confused glances before following his stunned gaze to the doorway. There, trailing just behind Luke's tall frame, was a familiar head of sleek blonde hair.

"Lexi?" Heather whispered, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. Quinn remained statue-still, his expression a mix of shock and something akin to terror. Y/N bit back a laugh, knowing exactly why Quinn was so thrown off balance.

Ang leaned over to Y/N, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Ten bucks says Quinn's trying to remember if he ever accidentally liked one of her thirst traps on Insta."

Y/N snorted, nearly choking on her drink. She couldn't help but feel a little bad for Quinn, but the sight of him standing there, frozen like a deer in headlights, was too hilarious not to enjoy.

Luke, oblivious to the tension, greeted the room with a broad smile. "Look who I ran into on the way out of the bar, we almost left her there!" He draped an arm casually over Lexi's shoulders, missing the way Quinn flinched at the action.

Lexi's cool blue eyes scanned the room, landing on Quinn with a predatory gleam. "Quinn," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

As Lexi sauntered into the room, Quinn shot a panicked look at his friends, silently pleading for backup. Y/N, taking pity on him, stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Okay losers, we ready to play?”

…

The room erupted into cheers and whoops, effectively breaking the awkward tension. Quinn shot Y/N a grateful look, mouthing "thank you" as he quickly busied himself with distributing drinks. Y/N grinned, shaking her head in amusement.

As everyone began to settle into their seats, ready to start the game, the room suddenly fell silent. Y/N glanced up, curious about the sudden hush, and felt her jaw drop.

There, standing in the doorway, was Jack. And he looked absolutely delicious.

He was wearing a fitted black button up that clung to his toned chest and arms in all the right places, just the few top buttons left undone along with dark wash jeans that hugged his muscular legs. His light hair was artfully tousled, as if he'd just run his fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth going dry as she openly stared at him. She knew she was probably drooling, but she couldn't help it. Jack was a vision, and she wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, she wasn't the only one affected by Jack's entrance. Across the room, Lexi's blue eyes were raking over Jack's form, a predatory gleam in her gaze. She licked her lips, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

Jack, seemingly oblivious to the attention he was garnering, scanned the room for a place to sit. His eyes landed on the empty spot beside Y/N, and he began to move towards her, a warm smile on his face. She threw her legs back onto the plush carpet, expectantly waiting for him to sit.

With a speed that seemed almost inhuman, Lexi leapt up from her seat and practically pounced on Jack. She grabbed his arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his bicep as she yanked him towards her.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, her voice sickly sweet. "Come sit with me!"

Before Jack could protest, Lexi had dragged him over to her spot, pushing him down onto the couch beside her. She immediately curled into his side, her hand resting possessively on his thigh.

Y/N felt a surge of jealousy course through her, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She glared daggers at Lexi, silently fuming at the blonde's audacity.

Jack, for his part, looked mildly uncomfortable with Lexi's aggressive display of affection. He shot Y/N an apologetic look, his green eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

Y/N forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to quell the anger and disappointment swirling inside her. She plastered a smile on her face, determined not to let Lexi see how much her actions had affected her.

"Alright, let's get this game started!" Quinn declared, his voice overly bright.

Heather reached for the stack of truth cards, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. She plucked a card from the top and read it aloud, her voice wavering with nerves. "What's the most inappropriate place you've ever had a makeout session?" she read, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

The group erupted into a chorus of "ooh"s and whistles, everyone leaning in closer to hear Heather's answer. She bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room before finally settling on her lap.

"Um, well..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was at my grandparents' 50th anniversary party. In the coat closet."

The room exploded with laughter and gasps of shock. Ang clapped her hands together, her eyes wide with glee.

"Heather, you little minx!" she exclaimed, reaching over to give her friend a high five. Heather ducked her head, a small smile playing at her lips despite her embarrassment.

"Okay, okay, let's move on," she said, pointing to Quinn, signaling his turn. He quickly grabbed a dare card from the pile.

His eyes widened as he read the card, and he looked up at the group with an embarrassed grin. "Let the group choose someone to spank you five times.” He sighed out, annunciating the words. "Dawson, get over here” he stated.

Dawsons eyes widened, but he couldn't hide the small smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, Quinn," he said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. "Bend over."

Quinn looked like he was about to pass out, but he slowly stood up and turned around, bracing himself against the back of the couch. Dawson stepped forward, his hand raised, and brought it down on Quinn's backside with a resounding smack.

He yelped, his face burning with humiliation as Dawson continued to spank him, each strike eliciting a new round of laughter from the group. By the time it was over Quinn was red-faced and panting. As he sat back down, wincing slightly, Lexi reached for the next dare card. She read it silently, her lips curving into a wicked smile, before looking up at the group.

"Kiss the person you find most attractive in the room on the lips," she read, her eyes immediately locking onto y/n’s before turning to Jack next to her. Y/N felt her stomach drop, a wave of jealousy and anger washing over her as she watched Lexi lean over to Jack.

Without hesitation, Lexi straddled his lap, her hands cupping his face as she leaned in and captured his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. Jack's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he seemed to melt into the kiss, his hands coming up to rest on Lexi's hips as she continued to ravish his mouth.

Y/N could feel the heat of rage burning in her cheeks, her heart continued to hammer against her chest uncomfortably. She wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip Lexi off of Jack, to yell in jacks face on the man she'd just been kissing upstairs, of the man that’s taken her on dates every week since they fatefully crossed paths again.

But she forced herself to stay seated, her jaw clenched so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. She watched as Lexi finally pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she climbed off of Jack's lap and returned to her seat.

Jack looked dazed, his lips slightly swollen and his hair mussed from Lexi's fingers. Ang turned to Y/N, her eyes wide with shock and concern.

She could see the hurt and anger burning in her friend's eyes, and she reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. Y/N forced a small smile, silently thanking Ang for her support, before turning her attention back to the game.

As the night wore on, the drinks continued to flow, and the dares became increasingly more outrageous. Y/N found herself grateful for the distraction, throwing herself into the game with a newfound determination. She laughed and joked with Nico and Dawson, purposefully avoiding any interaction with Jack or Lexi.

Hours later, the room was filled with the sound of drunken laughter and slurred speech. Y/N, who had been pacing herself throughout the night, seemed to be the only one still relatively sober. She watched as her friends stumbled and swayed, their inhibitions lowered and their judgment clouded by the alcohol.

Feeling the need for a moment of solitude, Y/N slipped away from the group and made her way into the kitchen. She hopped up onto the counter, her legs dangling as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirling emotions inside her.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Jack enter the room until he was standing right in front of her. Y/N's eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat as she took in his disheveled appearance.

His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled and untucked, and his eyes were glazed with a mix of intoxication and something else Y/N couldn't quite place.

"Y/N..." he began, his words slightly slurred. "I... I need to talk to you."

Y/N felt her chest tighten, a mix of anger and longing warring within her. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, a voice called her name from the other room.

"Y/N! Come on, we're playing another round!" Quinn shouted, his words followed by a chorus of drunken cheers.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to hear what Jack had to say and her need to escape the uncomfortable situation. In the end, her pride won out, and she slid off the counter, brushing past Jack without a word.

She stalked over to the table where Quinn had set up a new round of drinks, without hesitation, she grabbed a glass and downed its contents in one gulp, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

She reached for another, and then another, her mind growing fuzzy as the drinks began to take effect. She could feel Jack's eyes on her from across the room, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the laughter and chatter of her friends.

the night blurred into a haze of drunken revelry, Y/N found herself letting go of her inhibitions, her anger and hurt temporarily forgotten in the chaos of the moment. She danced and sang, her laughter mixing with the others as they lost themselves in the heady rush of alcohol and adrenaline.

But even as she let herself get swept up in the madness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had shifted between her and Jack, that the events of the night had set into motion a chain reaction that she was powerless to stop.

…

Y/N stumbled out of the house, the cool night air hitting her flushed skin like a refreshing balm. She inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and lake water filling her lungs as she made her way towards the shore.

The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow over the rippling water. Y/N kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed as she waded into the shallows.

The water was cool against her skin, sending a shiver up her spine as she moved deeper, until she was waist-deep in the inky depths.

It was only then, with the muffled sounds of the party fading behind her and the vast expanse of the lake stretching out before her, that Y/N allowed herself to break.

The tears she had been holding back all night spilled down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tilted her head back to the sky.

"Why did you do this?" she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Am I not good enough for any man?"

The moon stared back at her, silent and unblinking, offering no answers to her desperate pleas. Y/N felt a surge of anger rise within her, her hands clenching into fists beneath the water's surface.

She thought back to all the moments she and Jack had shared, the laughter and the dates, the stolen touches. Had it all been a lie? A cruel game he had been playing, stringing her along while he pined after her best friend?

"If he wanted her, he should have just told me," she choked out, her vision blurring with fresh tears. "Instead of making me think that maybe, just maybe, he could feel something for me too."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered heart. She had been so sure that Jack was different, that he saw her for who she truly was.

But now, with the image of him kissing Lexi burned into her mind, she couldn't help but question everything. "Was it all a lie?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.

The thought was too painful to bear, and Y/N felt her knees buckle beneath her. She sank into the water, letting it engulf her as she cried, her tears mingling with the cool, dark depths. She didn't know how long she stayed there, her body racked with sobs as she poured out her pain to the uncaring moon.

But eventually, her tears ran dry, and she was left feeling hollow and numb, the anger and hurt giving way to a dull, aching emptiness.

Slowly, she rose from the water, her clothes clinging to her body as she made her way back to the shore. She knew she couldn't stay out here forever, that eventually she would have to face Jack and the rest of her friends.

…

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oomiya · 1 year

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✉️ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

warnings : nanami kento x fem reader, smut (mdni) marriage, penetrative sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), bathing together, alcohol consumption, breast worship, cursing, very cheesy i'm so sorry, repost from my old acc !

word count : 6.5k

The bright lights from the Eiffel Tower and stars spill through your opened window and a soft breeze dances across the white chiffon curtains.

You sigh happily, leaning over the edge of the balcony’s iron-casted railing as the faint yellow lights wash over your skin. The cold metal, painted in a muted mossy green, bites into your skin as you crane your gaze to see the Eiffel Tower.

At the feeling of large hands, firm in their grasp as they press against your hips, you let an adoring smile tug at your lips. Tilting your head up, your gaze meets that of your husband’s.

Nanami Kento swears under his breath, convinced he’s died and gone to heaven. You look like an angel, body caressed in soft, off-white gossamer. It’s as if beautiful magnolias are blooming across your skin, floating along your wedding dress in a way that has Nanami wholly overwhelmed by his love for you.

“Everything okay?” he asks, voice warmed with the euphoric bliss of your vows a mere hours ago.

Nanami’s arms wind around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his front. He ignores the stir of arousal in his groin as you look up at him, all doe-eyed with a light joy glinting in your gaze. Kento is still so much taller than you, fingers brushing over your cheek as he presses a tender kiss to your temple.

His burning touch has you melting into him, a soft sigh falling past your lips as his lips work wonders over your sensitive skin. Kento is a bit more insistent in his touch now, fingers trembling over your body as he smooths over your hips.

“Everything is perfect,” you affirm, voice a bit breathless at his actions.

Kento can’t help but tighten his fingers around your dress, a large hand splaying across your lower abdomen to push his crotch against you. It is a playful action, yet you feel a bit dizzy when you realize your husband is already half-hard.

Your husband.

Again, the smile grows on your face, your heart twinging with happiness. The heavy weight of the ring on your finger - its pair, on Kento’s - only serves to further remind you of your marriage to the wonderful man behind you.

“My husband.”

You can’t help but remind yourself–the giddy feeling filling your chest as you move to turn around. Your skirt brushes against the ground of the tall balcony as you face Kento, raising your head to meet his purposeful gaze. The tender look on his face is breathtaking, hazel brown eyes softening as he brings a hand to caress your cheek. Kento’s touch has your lashes fluttering shut in contentment, a swelling exhilaration building in your chest.

“My wife,” Kento agrees, the slightly warm ring on his finger greeting your skin as he continues holding you. With you now facing him, the lights of Parisian nightlife as your background, Kento can finally lean down to kiss you.

It is a gentle touch, and despite it being the first night of your honeymoon, there is no ulterior motive in how he kisses you. Kento’s lips move affectionately against your own, fingers cradling the back of your neck. A pleased sound escapes his throat as his mouth parts, tongue coming to trace your bottom lip before licking into your mouth. He feels your smaller hands grip onto his hips, smiling into the kiss as you attempt to pull him closer to you.

You continue kissing like this for a few minutes - the only witness to your love being each other and the stars that shine down on you. The breathless feeling that fills your lungs is contradicting - Kento steals your air while simultaneously filling you with life.

Kento’s touch is doting, hands smoothing down the pale silks of your wedding gown as his soft lips caress yours. Both of you are smiling - sweet little kisses filled with all the promises in the world. The bustling Parisian nightlife sounds like whispers that brush against your skin, twenty floors below you; Kento and you might as well be in your own world, completely sealed away from real life.

You finally break away when his nose brushes yours, gently nudging against you to get your attention. Kento’s brown eyes are suddenly blown wide with love and lust, swimming in their dark depths and threatening to swallow you whole. Not immune to his charismatic gaze, you feel a similar bout of desire rising inside of you.

“My wife,” Kento reiterates, closing his eyes as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is more searing, with Kento a bit more hurried and insistent in his touches.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he confesses, pressing his hips against yours. His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing against the curve of your ear in a way that has you shivering against him. Kento’s strong body embraces you, arms wrapped around you protectively as you lean your head to rest against the crook of his neck.

You feel an immense warmth pool inside you at the feeling of Kento pressing against you. His touch is mouthwatering, causing you to swallow desperately at the sensation of his thick length straining against his dress pants.

A heady sound escapes from the back of his throat as your fingers trail along his hard shaft, pressing your fingertips gently against where his tip rests. Kento is sure it’s swollen and leaking by now, aroused simply by seeing the diamond ring glittering on your finger.

As his thoughts begin to roam, Kento keeps touching you, drinking in every soft sigh and delicious giggle that falls past your lips. A sense of satisfaction embraces him at the realization that it turns him on; the knowledge that you’re now his, forever, has his cock stirring in his wedding pants. Of course, you had always reassured him that you would be his forever, even before you were married. However, now that you are standing before him in your wedding dress, a ring resting on your finger to tell others that you’re a taken woman, Kento has an epiphany.

The rush of arousal that shoots to his cock is a welcome one, and the knowledge that it’s because you’re his wife has Kento feeling quite drunk.

It is surprising, seeing as he only had one glass of champagne during your wedding ceremony.

He continues littering tender, affectionate kisses against your neck as you melt into his touch. In all honesty, you think he is the one who looks breathtaking – eyes blown wide with a kind of feverish look when he pulls back, lips slightly swollen by his kisses as he holds you with such a gentle love. Kento’s blonde hair is smoothed back, but still somewhat messy due to your touch. You giggle internally, suppressing the thoughts that encourage you to muss it up even further.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” Kento questions, beginning to guide you away from the balcony. You simply hum in acknowledgment, pointedly gripping his clothed cock through his dress pants. The hiss that escapes Kento’s teeth, gritting together in pleasure at your teasing touch, has you throwing your head back in laughter.

You miss the wounded look he throws you, but you don’t miss how Kento suddenly sweeps you in his arms.

“Now you’ve done it,” he states jokingly, a teasing smile coating his words as he holds you against him.

“K-Kento! Put me down!” you squeal. Despite your words, you cling closer to him, afraid of falling but also wanting to be as close to him as possible. Kento relishes how your arms grip his neck as he crosses the threshold of your luxury hotel room.

Earlier, when you had first entered the room and set your suitcases to the side, you had given Kento a gaping look at its elegance. All he did was chuckle, a bit surprised at Gojo’s thoughtful wedding gift but overall grateful, before explaining it to you.

Feeling your fingers trace over the hairs on his neck, Kento shivers. He doesn’t bother to shut the double doors of the balcony behind him - you were on the twentieth floor, after all.

“Sorry, Mrs. Nanami. Don’t think I can do that,” Kento replies to your previous protestations, grinning around the words as he tests out your new title.

A bright smile also encompasses your face, feeling lightheaded at your new status as Kento gently places you on the plush bed. In front of you, the fireplace blazes, casting warm shadows across the room that greets the brisk breeze from the balcony.

You lean against the white pillows, feeling your body sink into the luxurious bed as Kento crawls over your body. You keep your gaze glued to him, taking in his every movement as he settles over you.

“Can I help you, Mr. Nanami?” you tease, a grin on your face as your eyes twinkle up at him. Adoring how your dress fans across the bed, pillows cradling your head like an angel’s halo, Kento can’t help but grind his hips against yours.

His actions cause you to gasp lightly, fingers tangling around his wrist as it brushes across your eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Nanami. Can you?” Kento retorts, leaning his head down to suck bruising splotches against your skin. Humming as your fingers thread through his blonde hair, briefly thrilled at finally getting to muss it up as you imagined earlier, you give in to him.

“Let’s try this: can I help you, my husband?”

Your voice is low, lilting up with a mischievous but adoring tone as Kento works his mouth against you. At your words, he groans, pleasure pooling in his lower abdomen. His kisses turn hungrier, their soft plushness moving almost frantically against your neck and collarbones as his hips jut towards yours.

Nipping along your neck, the airy gasp you let out as Kento smirking against your skin.

“Say it again.”

He demands it, the tone in his voice dangerous and heavy with lust but still sparkling with a teasing nature. Your body trembles at his words, pressing your thighs together in a motion your husband doesn’t miss. He lodges a knee between the skirts of your dress, moving so slowly upwards until he’s pressing against your clothed center. While you clutch against him at his actions, Kento continues his slow, teasing kisses along your skin, altogether avoiding your lips in a way that have you succinctly annoyed.

Deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine, you pull away, letting your lustrous gaze meet Kento’s. His breath hitches as you break the embrace, staring down at you with a heavy-lidded look as you flutter your lashes at him.

Kento allows you to take brief control, letting your hand drag down his chest, teasing against his waist, before lightly cupping his hard cock through his pants. Your actions have him shuddering against you, gripping his fists into the bedsheets as his head falls to the crook of your neck.

Looking up at him from under your lashes, a desperate feeling overtakes you. While this teasing game of cat-and-mouse is fun, the need to have your husband inside of you, celebrating your marriage, overcomes you.

Therefore, you let your back arch into Kento, a distressed look overtaking your features as you beg for your husband.

“My husband, please touch me; I need you.”

Your words come out more tremulous than you had intended, but the visceral reaction they cause in Kento has you feeling less embarrassed.

“Fuck - anything. Anything for you,” Kento manages to get out, voice strained and body pulled taut with need.

The desperate need to have each other overcomes that to tease, and Kento’s hands are firm but gentle as they start to pull on the laces of your dress. Quickly sitting up to help him, your motions are agitated as you pull each other’s clothes off.

“Beautiful,” Kento whispers against you, lips moving against the skin of your neck in a way that has you shivering. His hold on you is so affectionate, and you almost feel like you’re drowning in his love and adoration as the layers of clothing soon disappear.

Kento stands up to kick off his pants, his body seeming to glow in the warm firelight as he pulls you up with him. He is aching for you, hands moving down and across every inch of skin that is exposed for him. His body yearns for yours as he tugs down your dress, cock twitching in his boxers at the sight of you. When the layers of lace gossamer and pearlescent satin pool at your feet, Kento’s eyes rake across your body, hungrily drinking in the sight of you bare before him.

You’re sure you look the same, both of you breathing heavily, chests heaving as you take in the sight of your spouse. Desire burns hot through your body, its evidence slicking your inner thighs at your gorgeous husband before you.

And oh - he is gorgeous. Lean, pale skin displaying smooth muscles, aching for you as his cock throbs in his boxers. His hair is now appropriately messy, blonde strands falling across his forehead in the absence of his glasses. His chest is heaving, pants spilling past his plump, soft lips as they beg to be on your body again. You can see the desire etched across his face, coating his body as his muscles ripple and lower abdomen contracts in pleasure. The soft glow of the night cascade across him, surrounding him in an ethereal glow as his brown eyes burn for you.

“Come here, please,” he pleads, strong arms reaching for you. The desperation threatens to overcome you as you appropriately reach for him, folding your hand in his as he quickly pulls you into his embrace.

When your breasts meet his bare chest, erect nipples pressing against his, Kento shudders against you. His body welcomes you, holding you gently against him as he breathlessly kisses you. Lips slanting over yours, he openly moans into your mouth, tongue licking into yours as his hands catch on your hips.

You adore his taste - that of sweet champagne, something minty, and a hint of toothpaste. The sudden intrusion of it - the idea of Kento brushing his teeth repeatedly before he walked down the aisle - has you smiling into the kiss.

Not missing a beat, Kento smiles as well; of course, he doesn’t know why you’re suddenly grinning against him, but the happiness that spreads through you is contagious, and Kento can’t help but feel it, too.

“I love you,” you tell him, pushing the words out of your chest as his fingers caress the skin of your waist.

Kento’s lips brush against yours, nudging your nose with his as you lean into his touch. “I love you too, so much,” he returns.

His gaze is heavy as he leans down, latching his mouth around one of your nipples. Moaning for him, your fingers move to tangle through his blonde hair, thighs pressing together in pleasure. Kento’s warm tongue swirls around your taut nipple, hands tightening around your hips to pull your body closer to him.

“Oh,” you moan, eyes flying open wide as he gently nibbles the skin of your breast. All you can do is clutch onto your husband, back arching into his touch as he leans his body over yours, enjoying how his wet tongue feels on your heated skin.

All you feel is bliss as Kento mouths over the underside of your breast, lips moving salaciously over the tender skin there as his other hand trails down your white panties.

He thinks it’s adorable that your underwear matches your wedding dress - something he’s sure your bridesmaids insisted on. Kento can picture it - his pretty bride getting embarrassed as your family and friends fawn over you, pushing various lingerie into your hands as you protest profusely. Kento can’t help the smile that coats his face at the picture in his head.

Kento’s fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, catching slightly at the top in what you’re sure is supposed to be a heart. It causes yours to soar in happiness and tender affection, tugging on his hair as he sucks numerous hickies onto the swell of your breasts.

When his fingers finally come to pad along your clit, bouncing teasing touches against your aching nub, your hips jut towards him. Kento starts making his lips back up the column of your neck, relishing in your sweet sounds as his wet tongue traces along the curve of your ear.

“So wet for me, gorgeous?” he teases, fingers swiping through the soaked seam of your lips before rubbing the hood of your clit.

“All for you, Kento,” you sigh, allowing him to guide you back towards the opulent bed.

His actions turn impatient, and you squeal as Kento suddenly picks you up again. Gently placing you on the bed, you get a feeling of déjà-vu.

“For the rest of our lives,” Kento continues, climbing over you to hover his body over yours. His arms come to brace himself, around the sides of your head as his fingers stroke your cheekbone. Kento’s gaze is intense, burrowing into your eyes and causing your heart to beat rapidly against your chest.

“Forever,” you whisper against him, eyes flitting between his lips and gorgeous eyes that you could drown in. Catching onto your motions, Kento does the same.

His face is so close to yours, noses brushing against each other affectionately as he settles his body on top of yours. He feels so warm, body covering yours to protect you from the harsh breeze that floats through the room. All of your senses are consumed by Kento - your smell is of him, your body feeling sensitive to his every touch as he drags his body against yours, gasping as his blonde hair caresses your cheeks.

The feeling of love you have for him overwhelms you as Kento leans forward. He captures your lips in another breathless, passionate kiss. It is one that leaves you reeling, has the room spinning around you, and all you can do is grip onto his broad shoulders as his hips press against yours. The need you feel for him clouds your mind, gaze feeling hazy at the addicting drag of his lips against yours.

“Need you, need my wife so bad,” Kento mumbles against your lips, hesitant to part from you for even a moment. The softness of his kiss has you moaning, fingering strands of his hair as you pull his muscular body against yours.

Kento hisses at the feeling of your breasts pressing against his chest, head dizzy with arousal as it spins through his head. He begins to move down your body, hands pressing down on your hips to hold you still as his wet lips linger along your body.

“Need you too, Kento,” you moan, hips jutting up as Kento settles between your thighs. Bringing his arms to wrap around the underside of them, he pulls your hips forward until you’re almost flush against his face.

You let out a loud cry as Kento immediately buries his face into your clothed cunt, head falling back against the luxurious pillows as he inhales deeply.

Kento feels inebriated off the heady scent of your arousal, digging his nose into the seam where he knows your aching clit lies. Letting his tongue lave over your clothed core, he relishes in the sounds you let out for him.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against your, tongue pressing flat against your core and dragging up the fabric. Being able to feel the wet muscle against you, warm in his ministrations, has you pressing your hands into his shoulders.

“M-more, please,” you beg, eyes blown wide with lust as your husband moves against you.

He hums, a deep sound that reverberates through his chest and your core. “My pretty wife wants more?” he asks, hands tightening around your thighs as he presses a chaste kiss to your throbbing clit.

“A-ah! Yes, please! Need you, Kento!” you cry out, fingers grasping through his hair as he teases you. Kento chuckles against you, nuzzling his face between your thighs as your chest heaves. The heat that burns in your core steadily builds as Kento pulls away, slowly dragging down the fabric. When he gets to your ankles, he tosses it away before turning back to you, and you whine when he presses a slow kiss to the skin on your ankle.

The intimate feeling in such a strange place has you whining, reaching out for Kento desperately as he makes his way back up your body.

Settling between your thighs again, he traces teasing kisses against the insides of them. “Can’t wait to taste you,” he murmurs against your skin, drinking in the taste of you.

“Please Kento, don’t tease me tonight,” you whisper into the night air, silently begging for the touch of your husband on the night of your wedding.

Heat fills his heart at your words, memories of the special day flooding his head as he finally leans down to kiss you.

When his lips meet your core, they are hot, sucking all of your arousal into his mouth. You instantly keen against him, unable to move much due to his tight hold on your hips. Kento eats you out gently, patiently. As if you have all the time in the world.

Again, the intimacy of his actions, now as husband and wife, leaves you reeling.

All you can do is moan out cries of his name between whimpered breaths, his tongue dipping inside of you to surround himself with your taste.

Groaning against you, Kento buries his head deeper, his grip harsher as he makes out messily with your cunt.

“So good,” he slurs against you, lips coming to suck on your outer lip as his tongue greedily laps up all your slickness. Writhing underneath his touch, you let out a shuddering breath as he moans against you.

When Kento’s lips wrap around your clit, sucking the swollen nub into his mouth as two of his fingers brush against your entrance, you gasp. He suckles against you, moaning into your cunt as his long fingers enter you. Not letting up his ministrations on your clit, Kento lets his spit pool onto it, swirling it around his tongue while simultaneously sucking.

“You make me feel so good, Kento!” you praise him, eyes squeezing shut in arousal as he moans for you. Tugging on his hair, Kento moves his face down lower, lips brushing against your entrance as he licks up your slit. He sloppily kisses your clit, letting his thumb pull the hood of your clit back before placing sweet kitten licks along it.

When his fingers brush against that spot that has you seeing stars, Kento begins harshly sucking on your clit, pulling it into his mouth repeatedly as his head swims in thoughts of you. Thoughts of how good you taste, completely surrounding yourself on his tongue. Thoughts of how sweet you sound, moaning into the bedroom for him. Memories of how beautiful you looked today, walking up the aisle to greet him before saying your vows.

The realization that you’re now his wife - and it has him almost cumming untouched.

Gasping against you, Kento gently shakes his head, wrapping his plump lips around your clit before suckling again. It has you keening, fingers tugging harshly against his hair to pull him away.

“K-Kento, please, want to cum around your cock,” you beg, aching to have him inside you. While his mouth feels heavenly, you know it would feel so much better to cum around his thick cock.

Kento pulls himself up your body, grinning cheekily as his hand meets your cheek. Nuzzling into his touch, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss that has you moaning into it, eyes closed and mouth parted in breathy pants as Kento’s fingers squeeze around your hips. It’s the kind of kiss that has Kento rutting his hips against you, achingly hard against your thigh, as the pleasure swims through his head.

Suddenly feeling a bit mischievous, you sit up on your elbow, pushing Kento down as you hover over him. His eyes are wide, a shocked look painting his face as his mouth falls open in surprise. You tug at his boxers, sliding down his body and pressing wet kisses to his skin as you go. The feeling of your small hand wrapping around the thick base of his cock, running your finger down the edge of his vein, has Kento falling against the bed.

“G-god,” Kento manages to get out, stuttering in his words as his chest pants with pleasure. You can’t help but grin against him, tongue suddenly laving down the length of his shaft in a way that has him crying out for you.

Gasps of your name spill from Kento’s lips as your warm mouth surrounds him, pressing all the way down until your nose meets his groin. Kento loses all composure when you moan against him, nose nuzzling into the neat blonde curls at the base of his cock.

“F-fuck, angel,” he moans, throwing an arm to cover his embarrassingly red face as you begin moving up his cock. Your tongue trails down his shaft, mouth coming to the tip of his cock where you start sucking on him.

The taste is heavy and heady against your tongue, something that causes immense pleasure to creep up your stomach. Swiping against the bitter bead of pre-cum at his tip, you bring your hand to massage the length of his shaft.

Usually, Kento would be all for letting you go down on him; the warmth of your mouth is addicting. But now, with how your tongue traces over the tip of his cock, coming down to dig into the slit as your fingers brush his heavy balls, he doesn’t know how long he could last.

Not able to handle the intense pleasure, Kento sits up, abruptly manhandling you as he pulls you off his cock. Smiling as you squeal, Kento quickly manages to place you in the middle of the bed, strong arms enveloping you as he settles on top of you yet again.

The sheer love and desperation comes off your husband in waves, licking at your insides with a burning heat.

“Need you,” Kento explains, head tucking into the crook of your neck as he places open-mouthed kisses there. His cock is heavy where he rests between your thighs, the fat tip nudging against your leaking entrance as he begs you for your touch.

Unable to resist him, your fingers tangle through his blonde hair, pressing a loving kiss to his forehead as he ruts his hips against yours, dragging his cock through your wet folds.

“Then have me,” you whisper against his skin, tongue coming out to lick against him and take his taste into your mouth.

Moaning at your words, Kento brings his gaze down as he begins to guide his hard cock inside of you. At the sudden pressure, his swollen, red tip pressing past your tight walls, you wrap your legs around his hips.

“F-fuck,” Kento moans into your mouth, desperately capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss as he presses his cock further inside of you.

You moan loudly, overwhelmed with the sheer thickness of Kento as he continues stretching you open. He feels so good, so long and thick as he settles deep inside of you; if you focus hard enough to where the two of you are connected, you can almost feel the throbbing of a vein on the underside of his shaft.

His hands come to catch against your hips, unable to help himself as he starts pulling out again.

“F-feels so good, angel,” he moans, pressing his forehead to yours as he rests the tip of his cock inside your wet walls. You were absolutely gushing around him, completely soaked from his previous ministrations and the feeling of his bare cock fucking you open.

A heat flickers across Kento’s cheeks as he pushes back in, rolling his hips over yours to allow the delicious curve of his cock to fully stretch you open.

Kento is fixated on the feel of the dragging of his cock against your hot, tight walls, unable to help himself as he stops his thrusts. Instead, he fits himself flush inside you, heavy cockhead bruising your cervix as he slowly rolls his hips in a circular motion. The new sensation has your eyes flying open, clutching onto his broad shoulders as Kento sits up slightly.

His hand roves over your hip, holding your leg open to gently rock his cock inside you. When you moan out for him, falling back against the pillows and clamping hard around his cock, Kento almost falls forward.

“Yes, Kento, just like that, please,” you whine, pressing your cheek into the soft pillow behind your head. Kento simply continues his languid thrusts, pulling out until the tip of his cock is heavy inside you, then lazily pressing his cock into your tight walls.

His technique has you keening, hips jumping forward every time he grinds his hips against yours. When he thrusts back in, Kento makes sure to stay flush inside you, pressing as deep into you as possible, and then circles his hips. The grinding of his cock inside you has a moan ripping from his chest, pressing his pelvis against your aching clit before pulling out to do it again.

The dragging of his cock along your sensitive walls has you reaching for him, and Kento readily obliges. He leans down, entwining your fingers together and holding hands, and he presses you against the mattress.

Kento groans against your cheek, eyes fluttering shut at the intense pleasure of your cunt sucking in his cock. He feels as if he could choke with how your tight walls press against his shaft, massaging the base of his cock as he pulls out, before sucking him back in and crushing his swollen head with your gushing cunt.

“My wife, my wife,” Kento repeats in a daze against your skin, his lazy thrusts inside you turning a bit more desperate as one hand trails down to circle your clit. When you tighten even harder around him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you deeply, Kento lets curses spill into your mouth.

“M-my husband,” you repeat, in a daze equal to his own. A pleasured haze overcomes the both of you, overwhelmed by how good the other feels as you fuck each other. Kento drives his hips forward again, obsessed with how your cunt takes him in so readily, his hips shuddering against yours when his leaking head presses against your cervix.

Amidst your moans, Kento feels your wedding rings press into his skin, and the clenching feeling in his chest threatens to burst. His hips stutter, heart constricting with love as he brings your hand up to his lips.

Your fucked-out gaze meets his as he presses a sloppy kiss to your wedding ring, hips reaching out for his as he thrusts deeply back inside you. Letting your lips fall open at the intimate way he kisses your wedding ring, you can’t help but clench down even tighter on him.

Kento swears he almost dies when you repeat his actions, bringing your lips to brush over his wedding ring as well. He feels a swell of pleasure gather at the base of his cock, gaze focused intensely where your soft lips move over his ring finger.

It is a possessive and comforting action - one that reminds you both of the infinite promises made today.

Kento loves how your body trembles under his touch, crying out for him as your pussy attempts to milk his cock dry. He rocks up against the softness of your body, gentle shudders heaving across his chest as your arms wind around his broad shoulders. Nanami’s wet lips scour your neck; his deep, heavy pants make you squirm as his cock abuses the cushy spot inside your walls.

The delicious ache between your thighs is something you want – something you need – as his thick cock fits itself snugly inside you. You moan when he pulls out again, burying his cock inside of you at a fast pace. He pushes past your tight walls, a shuddering groan rippling from his chest at the familiar feeling of you tightening around him.

Knowing he’s about to cum deep inside you, Kento leans down to steal your lips in a sweet kiss, circling your clit with heavy pets as he makes love to you.

“Today - hah - I-I promise you this,” Kento starts, pressing his head to your forehead again as he breaks away from the kiss. Your chest swells with love at realizing that these are his vows - the vows he just shared with you mere hours ago.

“K-Kento,” you keen, the feeling of his cock burying inside of you causing you to feel dizzy with pleasure.

“I’ve fallen in love with you again and again,” your husband continues, rubbing hazy circles on your aching nub as the pleasure threatens to snap inside you.

“Countless times, without reservation,” you continue for him, adoring how his head falls to the crook of your neck when he groans.

“My heart beats for you. And on this day, the day of our wedding - “ he breaks off his word with a heavy groan, the fat tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves and shaft dragging along your walls.

“I-I promise to lay my heart in the palm of your hands,” you state, closing your eyes in the memories of his sweet promises.

He works his cock expertly, thrusting up inside you as your pussy gushes all over him. He has difficulty pulling out, your heavenly cunt attempting to suck him back inside of you and keep him there.

Kento’s actions have his chest filling with electricity, muscles pulling taut as his arms brace himself beside your head. His usual neat hair hangs in messy, sweaty waves, falling over his features as he looks at you and your pussy, sucking him in with a heavy gaze.

“I promise you me,” Kento finishes, unable to repress the deep pleasure that starts to overcome him.

“Want you to cum with me, please,” you plead in his ear, biting down lightly on the shell of it. Kento continuously grinds inside your gummy walls in just the right way. His hips adjust their angle, fucking up into you in a way that has his cock pushing against your cervix over and over.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the combined feeling of his cock nudging your sweet spot, thumb expertly nudging your clit with a precision that causes you to finally let go.

All you can do is wrap your arms tightly around him, moaning sweetly into his ear as he fucks you through your high. Your pussy creams around him so good, clamping down tightly on his leaking cockhead in a way that has the coil inside him snapping.

“Fuck,” Kento exclaims, hissing as his cock continues dragging along your sensitive walls while he pumps you full of his thick cum. The feeling of your pussy milking him, taking all of his load greedily, has Kento feeling lightheaded, arms wrapping around you as he holds you possessively against him.

The weight of him is comfortingly heavy, hips beginning to slow until the both of you are shaking with overstimulation. Kento keeps fucking his cum into you, ensuring you take all of what he has to offer as his gaze follows his cock. The creamy, combined cum coating his cock has him taking a shuddering breath, watching your pussy clench as he pushes back inside of you and finally stills.

“You. You’re everything,” Kento confesses as he gently lies down next to you, shaking in pleasure. Throwing a heavy arm over your body, he pulls you to him, desperate to feel any inch of skin you give him.

Later, in the sinking warmth of the large bathtub, Kento wraps his arms around you again. Your rings still rest against your fingers, and Kento gently plays with them through the bubbles. You let your head loll back to rest against his chest, relishing in his sweet gestures.

Kento’s body is firm and steady against yours, a hand pressing against your lower stomach as he simply touches you. The heat from the bath causes steam to rise among you, caressing the tiled walls in their coolness. The window is open so you can spy glimpses of the Eiffel Tower, soft candlelight flickering shadows across the tiles as Kento presses lazy kisses against your wet skin.

“You’re everything too, Kento,” you state softly, closing your eyes in pleasure as his soft lips travel to the base of your neck.

Entwining your fingers together in a sweet embrace, Kento questions you. “What’s that, angel?”

Your smile is not lost on him as you lean back, Kento’s legs spreading so you can settle between his thighs.

“What you said earlier. Those were your vows, right?” you tease gently, poking his side underneath the water. A glass of chilled champagne passes through Kento’s lips, and he easily grasps your jaw to draw you closer. Enamored by his actions, you let your husband softy pry your mouth open, pressing a sweet kiss against you and letting you drink the fancy champagne from his mouth.

You shudder at his sensual actions, not missing how his cock twitches against your backside and his arms tighten around your waist. The sweet champagne is slightly warm as it slips down your throat, the lovely buzz of love filling your veins as you kiss Kento again.

“Maybe,” he murmurs against your lips, fingers tracing invisible shapes against your skin.

“Maybe?” you retort, your brow raising in faux suspicion at your husband. Kento simply blushes.

Chuckling softly, Kento brings his thumb to hook on the bottom of your lip. Pulling it back, he lets it fall back into place, eyes watching your every movement as he leans forward for another passionate kiss.

“Definitely,” Kento rectifies when he pulls away, sighing happily as he sinks back into the blissful water. Scents of vanilla and sugared cashmere waft through the air, the bubbles feeling soft and luxurious against your skin as your fingers thrum over Kento’s body.

“I love you,” is all you can say, melting against his enduring love and affection as the water ripples over your skin. A warmth floods Kento’s chest, causing his heart to drum against his chest at the addicting feel of your love.

“I love you too,” Kento returns, a giddy, lovesick smile adorning his features as he holds you.

Yes, this is it. This is the happiness you sought all your life - the love of Nanami Kento. He is everything, just as you are his. And now you would be together forever, bound in the most intimate way as husband and wife.

#jjk smut #nanami smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x fem reader #heart divider / mdni banner by my love @imlevis <3

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