#this one has really sunk in for me over the last few years
Note
Hiii!
I love your writing, especially Mirror, Mirror! Are you still taking request? I‘ve been thinking about Ascended Astarion and female Tav/Reader attending a ball for the politicians and nobles of Baldur’s Gate, getting all dressed up and socializing, dancing and Astarion flirting with her all night long. Astarion obviously wouldn’t waste a chance to be alone with Tav/Reader, takes her on a romantic stroll in the gardens and has his wicked way with her somewhere in a dark corner 👀
I can not make Ascnedant Astarion not dark I am SORRY but I can't help myself. The intro to this is sad bad, but honestly it gets pretty fun later down the line. Gotta set up that Stockholm syndrome. You gots it here.
Tw: Murder, Violence, not much but it is there, graphic smut, 18+ sweet dark fluff. I do consider this Stockholm on your end. Very inspired by the in-game quote of locking you away for a decade. Also, never write shit only in tumblr post editor, I lost half of this right before I was going to post last and it almost killed me
~
Astarion was.... aware that you'd been having a hard time as of late. If anyone could empathize with the complications of being a vampire spawn, it was certainly him. Even though his circumstance were obviously much, much worse than yours ever could be.
He was no Cazador. Astarion was different, he loved you. He knew what was best for you. All that needed to happen now was for you to accept it.
And in your defense, you were trying. It had taken a long time for you to finally come to terms with the full extent of power he had over you as his spawn. He would always know where you were through sensation alone. Always ready and willing to drag you back home if need be. He could compel you to his side at any moment, though he did have a bad habit of going out to find you during your little tantrums. It seemed to work better to put you in your place, especially since he had very little self-control when it came to who you associated with. Many a possible friend had died at his hand, in front of your eyes. A waste, really, one that wouldn't be necessary if you would just listen.
But the demonstrations had been useful. Slowly but surely you were learning that the option of secrets between the two of you had died the second he sunk his fangs into your wrist. He had personally put an official stop to all of your extracurricular activities. The things you used to do in your spare time were silly and dangerous, always going out of your way to help the undeserving. But now he had the control to stop you, to sequester you at the estate where you were safe.
You had nowhere to be besides his side and you were finally starting to understand that. Things were so much easier when you gave in and listened, happier and more fun.
Lately, it had almost felt like another honeymoon phase, with your sudden predilection for extreme loyalty. It helped that he could still see into your mind through the new connection, fully aware that your love remained real and pure, if not a bit melancholic. It was silly really, the guilt you felt towards him for letting him ascend. Never mind the thousands he sacrificed, you were too concerned with how power had chanced him.
It was cute. Stupid, but cute. Because obviously it had changed him for the better. How else would he be where he was now? With his hands already in nearly every major part of Baldur's Gate's governance? He had made wide, sweeping moves to gain control in the past year, banking on your dual hero status to deflect from his more... unsavory attributes. But it was working, and in a few years time this city would belong to him. Then the two of you would be on to the next major conquest. A future that you were just now coming to terms with.
And Astarion wanted to reward you for that acceptance. He had been a bit paranoid of late, paranoid enough to not let you out of the house for a solid fortnight. But for good reason. The last of the Gur had come out of the woodwork recently, looking for revenge for their children and fallen comrades. With a specific interest in you. It had made sense, in a way. You were his greatest weakness after all. So of course he had to take it upon himself to personally hunt the last of them down to tear them limb from limb.
But now they were officially gone, and he was finally feeling comfortable with letting you out into the world again. Just not out of his sight. And tonight was the perfect opportunity. He had a mandatory soirée to attend, populated by neighboring nobles and a few powerful foreigners. One that would be so much more entertaining with you willingly by his side. Or forced, if need be. Depending on if you decided to be in one of your moods, though they were a rarity nowadays.
But no, you turned out to be too excited at the prospect of leaving the house to even attempt being a brat. Astarion watched you with a smile as you appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed to the nines. He whistled as he watched you descend, beyond pleased with how you looked. He met you at the bottom of the landing, easily wrapping an arm around your waist before setting a quick kiss to your temple, "You look beautiful pet. Absolutely stunning."
You truly did. A navy satin gown that matched your skin tone perfectly, fitted with delicate straps and a low bodice. Perhaps the slit in the leg was a little high, revealing too much of your perfect thigh for the rest of the world. But you looked too good for him to complain.
You really were so gorgeous, could he be blamed for wanting to dress you up?
You rolled your eyes, but Astarion didn't miss the tiny smile dancing on your lips, "You're the one who picked it out."
"And you wear it perfectly," Astarion praised, already leading you out the door. He kept you close to his side during the short journey, his eyes darting around your surroundings every few moments. His paranoia had been quelled, but it hadn't completely died out. But he had already made the decision that he was going to be on his best behavior tonight, and that included not indulging in his protective nature. You deserved nothing less.
But that didn't stop Astarion from taking some mental notes on those who stared at you too brazenly when you arrived. Part of him couldn't blame them, not when he could understand your thrall better than any one else. But the other, more fun part of himself was too busy imagining ripping them apart for the audacious, lustful stares.
But he didn't drag the two of you out for strictly fun, a fact that he was quickly reminded of when you were approached by the main host, "Lord Ancunín! I'm so pleased that you could make it."
Astarion vaguely remembered who he was, though he was much more interested in his friends than the man himself. The man turned his attention toward you, brow raised, "And who is this beautiful creature?"
Astarion could feel his brow twitch at the insolence. How dare he not know who you were? The Hero of Baldur's Gate, his consort, the love of his life, how could someone of his breeding be so ignorant? You had to many titles to choose from for introductions, so Astarion decided on the most important, "This is the future Lady Ancunín, my fiancé."
He could feel you tense at his side, staring up at him with wide eyes like what he said was surprising. Which was odd. He had been extremely clear about his intentions since the day he ascended, marriage was the obvious next step for the two of you.
"Well it's lovely to meet you," The noble said with a smile, his attention going straight back to Astarion, "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a few matters to discuss with your future husband."
Astarion was startlingly close to hurting this man. What on earth made him feel as though he had the right to dismiss you? He tightened the arm he had around your waist, sneering at him, "There is nothing that you can say that she won't eventually know. Don't waste our time."
Then he proceeded to do just that, wasting Astarion's time with useless information and worthless attempts at allyships. It seemed to be an unfortunate trend as the night progressed, just reinforcing how utterly useless the gentry could really be. Not to mention their constant passive dismissal of you. He really was going to need to start letting you out more often, though he had to wonder if they were even worthy of your presence. He would have been a bit more forceful regarding his own displeasure at their arrogance if you weren’t so distracting.
It was hard to hold onto his own indignation when you seemed so content. You were leaning into him the whole night, smiling softly through all of his inane conversations. Never failing to be adorably pleased at your introduction. It made Astarion want to fawn over you, alternating between whispering sweet nothings in your ear and sweeping you onto the dance floor. All of your pleased laughs and giggles music to his ears.
He kept you close all evening, never allowing you to wander past his sight. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, never quite shaken off after your first waltz together. But you didn't seem to mind. If anything you were glowing under the attention, happy in a way he hadn't seen for a long time. Too long. Beautiful enough for him to have the overly romantic thought that he never wanted the night to end.
Even after he had done his rounds, engaged with all whom he had planned on, he wasn't quite ready to leave. They had all been dreadfully dull, but at least a few conversations would prove useful in the future at the very least.
He started to steer you towards the back garden doors, whispering in your ear, "Take a walk with me?"
You followed him easily, happy to leave the bustle of the ballroom and step into the coolness of the night. You both started walking, hand and hand in a comfortable silence. It was a pretty enough garden, hedges and ivy lining the walkways, a white slightly weathered gazebo placed in the center.
"You know," You said eventually, as the two of you went up the gazebo steps. You leaned against the railing, looking at him with a coy smile, "I don't recall you ever proposing."
Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he crowded around you. It was an unnecessary question, considering how you would have no choice in the matter. But he was playing nice tonight. Astarion grinned at you, bracing his hands on the railing to cage you in his arms, "If you want a proposal, I'm more than happy to oblige."
"I do," You were playing with the lapel of his jacket, looking up at him through your lashes, "Sooner than later if you don't mind."
"Your wish is my command," Astarion murmured, shameless as he started to kiss along the line of your throat, "I'm proud of you pet. You've been an angel all night."
"You haven't given me much to complain about," You said with a small laugh, your breath hitching when his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, hard enough to make pinpricks of blood bubble to the surface.
"You know..." Astarion started, pulling back to look you in the eye. His voice gentle but serious, "It could always be like this. If you let it."
"I... I know," You admitted, biting on your lower lip as you struggled for the words, "I-I want that. I want you. Even if... it's like this."
Astarion would take offense at the subtle dig if it was anyone else. But with you? He was just happy that you were finally coming around, at long last willing to accept the fate he'd set for you.
"You have it," Astarion promised, tilting your chin up to press a light kiss to your lips, "For as long as I breathe my love, you're mine. And I'm yours-"
You kissed him before he could finish, wrapping your arms around his neck, forceful in a way that he had desperately missed. But you were pulling back too soon, your mouth swollen and your lipstick slightly smeared, smiling at him like the precious thing you were.
How could he resist?
"I think you deserve a reward for tonight my pet," Astarion said, leaning in to softly kiss along your jaw, "For being such a sweetheart."
His hands were wandering, already moving to pluck at the delicate straps of your dress, slowly teasing them to drop down your shoulders.
You made no moves to stop him as your eyes darted around the empty space, "H-Here? But what if someone sees?"
"Then I'll tear their eyes out and feed them back to anyone who stumbles on us," Astarion said simply, smiling at the way it made you laugh softly.
"Violence isn't always the answer you know," You said, your breath hitching as he lightly bit your neck. Your dress still slinking down all the while, "I thought we talked about that?"
"Perhaps," Astarion murmured, "But it seems to usually work in my favor."
He had already managed to slip the straps down enough to ease the way, brazenly tugging the fabric until your breasts spilled from the top. He leaned back in, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth as you gasped; mewling when he began touching you, shamelessly pinching your nipples just to hear you whine.
He adored all your little noises, so easy to coax out of your mouth. He could feel his own cock pulsing in the confines of his trousers, the feeling getting worse and worse as you started to whimper.
Astarion let one of his hands travel further down, right through the slit in your gown. He traced the seam of your pussy through delicate lace, smiling into the kiss from how the simple touch had your hips pitching forward. He could feel you getting wet, already seeping through the fabric of your panties, your needy cunt already begging for his touch. And Astarion was more than happy to oblige.
He tore them from your hips, letting the tattered pieces fall unceremoniously to the ground before he started to rub his palm against your clit, more slick gushing out as you moaned.
You were clutching at his shoulders, panting into his mouth as he played with you. Your thighs tightened around his hand, your cunt wet enough to fill the air with messy, indecent sounds.
Whatever trepidation you had before was quickly dissolving, a small chant escaping your lips as you two kissed, Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
Astarion was more than happy to oblige.
"Hold onto me darling," Astarion ordered, giving you a split second to tighten your grip around his neck before he was lifting you in the air, settling you on top of the thick railing with your legs spread wide. He made quick work of taking his weeping cock out, rubbing it along the seam of your cunt as you moaned. And then he was pushing inside, the slide soaked and easy.
You felt so tight around him, tight and sopping wet as he started to fuck into you. He bent his head down, popping one of your hard nipples into your mouth as you cried out, your nails clawing into his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his hips, trying to pull him in even closer, despite the fact that he was pressed deeply inside of you. Hitting all of your sensitive places.
He could tell that you were close, your whining getting more and more high-pitched by the second, your sweet cunt pulsing around his cock. Astarion started to rub at your clit again, at the perfect angle to make you tense up and cry out. And just like that you were squirting against his hand, breathing heavy as your orgasm ravaged through you.
Astarion grinned, popping off your breast to kiss your slack mouth. Naughty thing that you were, making a mess all over your fancy dress. He pulled back to look at you, debauched and panting, your pupils dilated at you stared up at him. You looked gorgeous, fucked out and perfect.
He started to fuck you harder, the erotic image was too much for his mind to handle. You where whining with each thrust, no doubt oversensitive as he roughly slammed into you. But you were a good girl, taking it without a single complaint as you held on for dear life, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. But lucky enough for you, you didn't have to wait long.
Astarion spilled inside of you with a drawn out moan, grinding circles into your cunt as you quivered. You pulled him in for another kiss, messily sliding your lips together as he filled you up. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, lazily kissing as he softened inside of you. It felt good, it felt right, the perfect end to a great night.
Astarion pulled out slowly, cooing at you as you gasped at the feeling. Your legs were still trembling as he set you back on the ground, bad enough for Astarion to wonder if he should just pick you up before you crumpled on the floor.
But first...
Astarion dropped to his knees, ignoring your surprised gasp as he spread your legs back apart.
"Hush darling," Astarion ordered as he pushed your dress back up, "Let me have a look at you."
Astarion was aware that he had gotten a little rough near the end there. It wouldn't be the first time he made you bleed during sex, nor the last. But he would hate to do so accidently. But no, your pussy looked perfectly healthy, if not a little swollen. Flushed and pink, your hole still twitching the slightest bit. The sight of your pussy all slick and red was nearly enough to make his mouth water.
"Spread your legs a little further pet," Astarion murmured, looking just to look. He gently added pressure to your shaking thighs until you complied, "That's it. Good girl."
His cum was already starting to leak out of you, the smallest bit of white making it's first appearance amongst your wet folds. No doubt it would be sliding down your legs soon enough. He could do something about that. But then again... the alternative sounded like too much fun.
Astarion stood back up with a smile, patting your pussy once before letting your dress fall back down, "Try to hold it in darling. We wouldn't want to make another mess, would we?"
You nodded slowly, still looking half out of it. A sweet, hazy look still plastered onto your face. You were already leaning in for another kiss, naturally desperate for more contact. Contact that Astarion was more than happy to give. He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply; your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. He wrapped his arms around your back, dipping his tongue between your lips as you dreamily sighed.
You pulled away first, to his displeasure, but you didn't go far. You rested your forehead against his, smiling softly with loving eyes, "Hi."
Astarion couldn't help but smile back, taking the time to tuck a wild piece of hair behind your ear, "Hello my treasure. Did you have fun tonight?"
"I think you know the answer to that," You giggled softly, "I'm not even sure I can walk."
That he did. And there would be many more nights like it. Though for now, he'd prefer to get you home. He felt a bit reluctant to parade you back out there for the masses eyes, so obviously debauched by his hands. No, the sight of you happy and flushed was for his eyes only. Your night would be ending here.
You squeaked as he swept you up in his arms, already muttering the magic for a portal under his breath. And just like that the two of you were gone, completely uncaring to give any good byes.
The two of you popped right into the entry hall of the estate, sudden enough to nearly scare a maid half to death. Astarion paid them no mind, too busy with carrying you upstairs to the sanctuary of your quarters.
You cuddled into his chest, looking up at him with a nervous look, "Did... Did I do good tonight?"
"Of course you did," Astarion cooed as he kicked the door to the bedroom open, trying to softly drop you on the bed, "Perfect creature that you are, what else could have possibly happened?"
But you didn't let go when he tried to pull back, clinging hard enough for Astarion to simply follow you. But he didn't mind, no he preferred you like this. Needy, wanting, and his. He twisted the two of your around, settling only when he had you laying on top of him. He would set a bath for the two of you later, but for now he was more than happy to lay here, watching as your tired to stay conscious. You always got so tired after sex, just one more silly thing that he was endeared by.
"I love you," You mumbled, your eyes falling closed, "Thank you for taking me tonight. For trusting me. I... thank you."
"I love you too darling," Astarion murmured back, kissing your forehead, "You get better by the day. I really am proud of you."
It was true. You were learning, adjusting. Give him a decade and you'd be completely immersed in your new life, all thoughts of useless things like "freedom" forgotten.
You were his. Until the end of time, you'd be together.
He'd make sure of that.
#astarion x reader#astarion#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#ascended astarion#asks#you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands#long fic#this took awhile#I'm slowly working through these asks but i can not make#anything simple#apparently#but i lost half of this near the end of the process and it broke me#she dirty#im telling yeah#she is
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hit it/forget it | part 01 | jjk
➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 6.7k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!jk, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers, orgasm control/denial, drinking, slight college au ig??➥ summary | finally able to unwind for the first time in forever, you go to a friend’s party. only somewhere along the way you find yourself in bed with someone you swore you’d never sleep with. it’s too bad he’s not in any hurry to let you hit it, and forget it.
➥ notes | i’m v new to this fandom, and it has started to consume me lol ✌️🥲
❤️ series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 ❤️
... Shit, what time is it?
Beams of sunlight pour in through the crooked blinds, stretching across the cluttered floor to flood the rumpled bed with golden light.
It’s so bright it hurts, your eyes watering with the effort it takes to open them as you roll onto your back with a quiet hiss.
Sore and still buzzed, it takes you several minutes to process your unfamiliar surroundings. Your mouth is stale and arid, the unpleasant taste of dehydration heavy on your tongue.
Needle sharp pain lances through your skull, and it’s hard to think let alone focus when it feels like someone’s shoving an icepick through your brain every time you so much as breathe wrong.
So much for a relaxing night hanging out with the guys, you think bitterly, pinching the bridge of your nose. There goes my last day off.
Spent curled up in bed fighting back nausea instead of out enjoying the last little bit of freedom your PTO offered.
If only the rest of the night had gone as well as the beginning...
Most of the group were camped around a game of beer pong when you arrived, already blitzed off their faces from pre-gaming while a few randos loitered around.
You didn’t pay them too much mind, more focused on catching up with your boys. It had been forever and a day since you’d talked to them, let alone seen them in person.
For a blissful moment it was just like old times; the floor sticky with spilled beer, wrestling matches followed by good-natured ribbing, and rowdy trash talk.
It reminded you so much of the shitty college parties they’d throw, you almost cried from the nostalgia alone.
The happiest you’d been in weeks.
Now you had adult bills and an adult life. Your schedules didn’t align like this very often. Getting to catch up and hang out with everyone again was a precious gift, one you didn’t realize how much you needed until you sunk back into the oversized couch, and took what felt like your first breath in months.
Your head was swimming, your heart bursting for fondness - only to choke on your tongue not even five minutes later when the front door slammed open to a round of hyped up chants, “JK, JK, JK!”
All the tranquility evaporated as Jeon Jungkook - the bane of your existence - waltzed over the threshold without a care in the world.
Meanwhile your heart was in your throat as he stood there in all his stupidly attractive glory while the rest of the gang surged forth. They swarmed him with friendly slaps on the back, a 12 pack of beer in one hand, and a bottle of tequila in the other.
He wasn’t supposed to be here - they said... He was supposed to be out of town for the weekend. If you’d have known -- fuck.
You wouldn’t have come. Shouldn’t have come. And now you were stuck with him for however long it took you to sober up.
God, you hated him.
Not that you knew why, really.
There was just something about him that got under your skin. Maybe it was the cocky way he held himself, his confidence sometimes bordering on arrogance.
Or maybe it was the constant teasing. (You refused to admit it might be because of how attractive you found him, and how angry that made you.)
Whatever the case, ever since he met you all those years ago, Jungkook’s made it his life’s mission to be as insufferable as possible. Always waiting in the wings with a flirty comment and that self-satisfied smirk of his.
Dealing with him was like dealing with an overgrown - competitive - toddler. It got exhausting after a while.
Far easier to avoid him altogether, even though that mentality came at the expense of your friendships.
You stopped going to events if you knew he’d be there, ducking out of get togethers last minute if you so much as caught a glimpse of his car. Eventually, your absence became accepted - expected even - which further fueled your inherent dislike of him.
As if all the reasons you don’t like him weren’t enough, you were tipsy, and that was always a recipe for disaster. Without your inhibitions halting your tongue, you had no qualms about calling him out on all his petty bullshit.
The particulars are too fuzzy to remember, but you’d been avoiding him by hiding out in the kitchen when he decided to come bother you.
One thing led to another, and he must have said something insulting enough because the next thing you knew, you’d crowded him against the counter.
He smirked while you snarled with distaste, a shot in one hand with the other balled in the open collar of his fancy button up. You thought about how nice it would be to smack that look off his face, and thoughtlessly agreed to a one v one drink off - winner takes all - just to one up him.
Damnit.
You should have left as soon as his ass showed up. And you should never have agreed to his stupid little competition in the first place. You know better than to fall prey to his schemes... yet here you are, so joke’s on you.
This has to be some kind of divine punishment.
All you wanted was to knock him down a peg (or ten). Then his stupidly handsome face, and low, mocking voice egged you on past your limits. Now, you’re in someone else’s bed, naked and sticky, nursing a hangover from hell.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
God, you hope it’s not Jin.
Any of the others aren’t much better, but he’s your bro at heart, and there are some things you can’t ever come back from. If only last night wasn’t a hazy, distant fever dream pockmarked with fitful moments of clarity...
Memories curl through your mind like tendrils of smoke, opaque and sinister. The harder you grasp at them, the more confusing they become; coalescing into a tangled blur of swollen lips, and naked, sweat-slick skin.
Salty-sweet bursting across your tongue as the burning stretch of a fat cock sinks deep, a whiskey rough voice groaning low and heavy in your ear, “Fuck, you’ve always been such a little cock tease, haven’t you, baby? Mm, yeah, just like that. Knew you always wanted me, wanted this. Hhng, shit, I’ve wanted to do this for-fuckin-ever, princess…”
Goddamn Jeon Jungkook, and whatever horse he rode in on.
Of course, you’d get laid after a dry spell, and the only thing you have to show for it is the tender ache of your thighs, the tacky sensation of dried cum clinging to the swollen lips of your pussy, and the vaguest daydream of toe-curling pleasure.
At least the sheets are soft, the mattress plush, the bedspread muted, dark colours; altogether masculine but chic.
The fluffy pillows are to die for, something like expensive cologne threaded through the fabric; citrusy and bright with notes of mellow sweetness that fill your lungs, and cloud your senses with every deep inhale.
A familiar thread in an otherwise unfamiliar bed.
Whoever it is certainly has impeccable taste... which doesn’t help narrow down your list of suspects, at all. They’re all stupidly fashionable in everything they do, meanwhile you feel like a half-decent hobgoblin half the time.
You can’t decide what’s worse: the fact you slept with someone who’s a friend of yours - not many people outside of the core group came last night - or that you can’t remember who it is.
No lie, the temptation to slip out before they wake is hard to resist. But it’ll only delay the inevitable, and you honestly don’t want to do that to someone you care about.
It’s better to face the situation head-on, no matter how much you’re dreading it.
Over and done, quick and easy like a Band-Aid.
The conversation’s going to be awkward as hell but it was a drunken mistake. You’re adults and in a few years’ time, who knows, maybe you’ll be able to look back and laugh. No reason to let it ruin years of hard-earned friendship.
“Aah,” you groan mid-stretch, “...what a fucking mess.”
“Look who’s finally awake.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
The world screeches to an almighty halt, crashing and burning as all the breath in your lungs catches in your chest. Your heavy eyes pop open so fast you see stars, a field of grey sheets filling your line of sight.
A wave of disbelief threatens to drown you, hysteria following in the aftermath as your mind stutters to a stop.
Stomach turning, your heart slams into your ribs so hard you’re convinced you’ll break a bone. The thought of sleeping with a friend is bad enough, but the truth? So much worse. You wish the bed would swallow you whole.
Why, you lament, why him?
That low, sleep rough tone dripping with arrogance.
It raises your hackles, sets your teeth on edge until you shake with the urge to punt his ass across the room. Never in a million years would you expect to hear that voice beside you in bed.
You wish with everything there is that it’s just a hallucination - but there’s no mistaking who that voice belongs to.
The knowledge sits bitterly in the back of your throat.
“This is a nightmare.”
No fucking way you’re turning around.
You inch to the edge of the mattress, grateful for the distance. The very idea of touching him repulses, repels.
You’re already too aware of how the bed dips beneath his weight, the shared space warmed by the sleep soft heat radiating from his skin.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jungkook scoffs. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
A hot palm, rough with callouses, grabs your shoulder. The steel grip tugs you close, unyielding as it guides you onto your back.
As soon as you glimpse the sunlight caught in the tangled briar of his hair, your eyes slam shut.
If you can’t see him, you can pretend he’s not there and if he’s not there, well then you won’t have to face your colossal mistake.
It might be petty and childish but all things considered, you think you’re allowed to be. Waking up next to Jeon Jungkook is earth-shattering. And altogether mortifying when you consider all the thoughts you had before you knew you fucked him.
Of all the people…
He’s made passes for years, and you always blew them off. Now? You groan. They’re never going to let you live this down. You take back every kind thought. This asshole doesn’t deserve your praise.
Before you tell him where to shove it, fingertips skim the jut of your cheekbone. The action effectively shuts you up, your brain stuttering to a resounding halt. Soft and light like butterfly kisses, they trace over the sweep of your flickering eyelashes.
It’s a ticklish reminder that you’re not alone.
You jerk away.
The click he makes with his teeth does N-O-T make you throb. Neither does his persistence, the effort to force you into acknowledging his presence redoubled. He’s stubborn, and altogether not unlike a boy pulling pigtails.
The comparison unbidden and unwelcome, you bat him away with a sharp, “Quit it.”
His voice is far too smug for your liking when he says, “Why don’t you try to make me.”
“Oh, my god.”
This asshole…
Your fingers claw into the sheets instead of his chest, nails cutting into your palms as rage lurks just beneath the surface of your skin. Your breath shoves from your lungs fast and hard. It’s a struggle to reign in the urge to pummel him bloody.
Meanwhile, Jungkook redirects his attention, his hand dipping down to dance over the front of your throat. A rough thumb maps the curve of your jaw, a shiver rolling through your body at the touch.
His low chuckle is the only warning you get before he’s leaning over, the shift in position causing the hard, compact muscles of his torso to brush your side. The fission of awareness that follows in its wake crackles down your spine, steals your breath.
Senses fixated on the sensual glide of skin on skin while pulses of arousal kindle to life behind your navel. Slick gushes from between your folds, wetting the insides of your thighs. Heart in your throat, you steady your voice long enough to say, “Seriously, just leave me alone so I can wallow in peace.”
Warm breath tickles the side of your face, the cool metal of Jungkook’s lip piercing brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs the syllables of your name. “Come on,” he says, “I dare you.”
The hell, is he being serious right now? What does he think this is?
“What are you,” you ask. “Five?”
“Would you stop being so dramatic?”
The first hint of genuine annoyance threads through the words growled against your cheek. His tone low, a warning buried in its depths. Fire and smoke, grit and gravel. You hate how you clench at the sound. Hate how confused he’s making you.
Why is he acting like this is a normal occurrence? You expect him to lord it over you, not act so...playful?
The uncertainty rankles, and your shoulders hike up around your ears. If he thinks he can jerk you around like this, he better step up and out because you’re out of fucks to give.
This is humiliating enough, and you’re not about to relinquish what’s left of your pride.
“Do you ever stop talking,” you continue, ignoring the pulse between your thighs, the crack in your voice, “Or do you like the sound of your own voice that much?”
Your heart pounds in the ensuing silence, Jungkook all but ignoring you as he sinks his nose into your hair. The pleased rumble that vibrates from his chest into yours follows a deep inhale.
“Mm, you smell,” his lips tickle the side of your neck, “really good.”
A whimper works its way up your throat, your teeth barely catching it in time. Fissions of sensation shoot down to your stomach, hot and shivery.
“Shut up. Just stop - stop talking.”
It’s not what you mean to say - you have full intentions of cussing him out, reaching out to touch smack him - but by then, it’s too late. He’s already on the move, a mocking chuckle falling from his lips.
The sound shoots through you, stokes your rage and desire in equal measure until you’re shaking.
He tugs at the plush, tender flesh of your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Y’know,” he muses, “I wouldn’t keep doing that if I were you. You might not like what happens.”
Surrounded as you are, it’s getting harder to think.
To breathe.
To be.
Sweat and sex cling to Jungkook, the scent filling your lungs with ash and burning through your bloodstream until he’s all that remains. Surrounding, smothering, swallowing you whole. “Look at me.”
Shit, he’s close - too close.
There’s a scant amount of space between your bodies, pressed stem to stern. Your tits crush against the hard plane of his chest, nipples stiffening with every drag of his skin, every shift of his body against yours.
His half-hard cock digs into the softness of your abdomen, wet and sticky as it drools into the dip of your belly button which shouldn’t get you as hot as it does. This is so not good.
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, I won’t.”
I can’t.
This is unacceptable.
Fucking him once is bad enough, the only saving grace is that you barely remember the taste of his lips, the weight of his body pressing into yours, the stretch of him filling you to the brim.
If you give in now, even if it’s only an inch…
Well, he’ll take a mile and you don’t have an excuse for why you’ll let him. You’re already struggling with the urge to succumb, to inch closer. There’s no telling what’ll happen if you actually look into those burning eyes of his.
Of course, he doesn’t accept your refusal.
You never expected him to.
“I said look at me.” The thumb that was gently stroking along your face hooks around your jaw, digging into the soft spot on the underside. “Don’t make me say it again.”
You grit your teeth, channel the rising lust into rage. Anything to put some much-needed distance between you before you do something you’ll regret. Like, sleep with him a second time while stone-cold sober.
“Just fuck off, Jeon. This is embarrassing enough, you don’t need to rub it in. You won, okay? Congratulations.”
You refuse to let him have his cake and eat it too. Damned if he gets to hold this over your head. That drinking competition was all his idea, anyway. The victory blooming in your chest is short-lived, thoroughly blown to pieces.
He doesn’t respond verbally.
Fast as lightning, the hand on your jaw disappears only to reappear between your thighs to shove your legs open. He doesn’t waste time, runs his knuckles along the length of your slit without hesitation.
Teasing, testing, humming in approval at what he finds.
The sudden rough touch has you jumping, gasping, eyes snapping open, fixating on his blown pupils. The grin tugging at the corners of his mouth is more a snarl, downright predatory. The metal of his lip ring glints in the light, his teeth bared while he spears you with a hooded, hungry stare.
“That’s it, show me those pretty eyes of yours.”
Breathless, your hips twitch and you clench at the praise, liquid fire pooling low in your belly.
Traitor.
“Jeon - Jungkook, knock it off.”
But you know he’s not going to stop. The ravenous look in his eyes says everything his mouth doesn’t.
“See,” he says conversationally, pausing long enough to thrust two fingers deep into you without warning. Pain sparks, flickers down your spine only to melt into a warm flush of pleasure as he twists his wrist. “That mouth of yours says one thing, but this pussy’s soaked. What am I supposed to think about that, huh?”
“I-”
Any response you have breaks off into a wounded moan, your brows furrowing as he flicks the tip of his finger against your g-spot.
“S-Shit!”
“Hm, what was that?”
A sharp smack stings across your wrist when you reach down to pull his hand away.
“Jeon - I - please…”
“Come on, use your words like a good little slut.”
“I - I can’t - shit!”
It’s impossible to think, let alone form sentences when the heel of his palm grinds against your swollen clit like that. Thick fingers curl deep, stroke, stretch until you mewl.
Every skilled thrust drives you higher, wrings pleasure from you so expertly you’ve half a mind to be pissed. Now you can see why all those girls were tripping over themselves to get with him back in college. As much as it pains you to admit it, he’s got game.
But even then, it shouldn’t be this easy to get you going.
To get your thighs clamping around his flexing forearm while uncontrollable shudders wrack your frame, finger fucked stupid by the sworn enemy.
“Hah.”
If you weren’t half out of your mind, you’d be more offended by the condescending smirk. All you do is half-heartedly smack his side, his free hand darting up to cover yours and keep it pressed against his skin.
You clench down with a whine at the feel of rippling muscle, the sight of his tatted fingers resting over your hand so delicately.
“Looks like I’m doing something right. Fuck, can you hear that, baby?” His movements slow to a crawl, the thrust of his fingers languid and deep. “Listen to how wet your tight little pussy is for me.”
Warmth creeps up your neck and sinks into the apples of your cheeks. It’s as mortifying as it is a turn on, the sloppy sounds of your needy cunt echoing back at you. Sticky arousal coats your puffy folds, every slick, squelching slide heard over stilted moans.
Without a doubt, you’re making a mess of his sheets. Judging by the husky growl of his voice, anything less wouldn’t satisfy him. “Gotta make up your mind, baby.”
He couldn’t sound any more indifferent, but the rough thrust of his fingers, the burning heat smouldering in the depths of his eyes says he’s anything but unaffected.
You whine, writhe, arch your hips to grind down on the hand working between your thighs.
It’s no use.
You get him right where you want him, only for him to flash a devilish grin and pull away. The desperation to get off builds and builds and builds until you’re half mad with it.
This asshole’s gotten you to the edge of cumming several times, only to watch with sick delight as he yanks you back, dangling you over the edge without letting you fall. You don’t even want to think about what this is doing for his already over-inflated sense of ego.
“You’ve been sending me all kinds of mixed signals for years.” He nips the tip of your nose, spreading his fingers wide open where they’re buried inside of you just to hear you squeal. “So what’s it gonna be?”
He’s playing dirty, and he knows it. It’s infuriating that smug looks so good on him. Are you really going to do this?
Ghosting his lips over yours in the barest of kisses, he whispers, slow and purposeful, “All you gotta do is say it. Be a good girl for me, and say: ‘Jungkook, please fuck me.’”
... Yes, yes, you are. But you’re never, ever going to admit that you want him.
Not when there’s nothing you can blame the impatient rise of your hips on, the grind against his palm, the unwavering eye contact that pins you in place. As unbelievable as this is, it all comes down to how horny you are and how good he looks above you.
You admit that he’s an asshole, but jesus, he’s attractive.
Jungkook chuckles, rolls his eyes. “So you’re gonna keep being a brat.”
He doesn’t look put out in the least. In fact, he’s downright feral with the anticipation of breaking you down and fucking you back together.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you begging for my cock one way or another.”
The you wish dissolves into thin air, all your focus narrowing on the flex and shift of muscle as he crawls down the length of your body. Shouldering his way between your thighs, he settles on his belly and rubs his hands along your hips.
Flinching at the first touch of his broad palms, you watch with rapt attention as his strong fingers inch closer and closer to your heat.
Every touch, every slide of skin calculated. Precise. Intent on getting your blood pumping and your pussy throbbing until you’re squirming against the sheets.
That ferocious stare, glittering like onyx in the light, tracks every movement, every twitch; catalogues what strokes get you mewling, what drag of fingers has you shuddering, shivering until you’re a downright mess.
Longtime lovers never paid half as much attention to what got you going, and a one-off mistake is doing a better job than all of them combined. Shit, he hasn’t even really done anything yet.
Jungkook’s as focused between your thighs as he is during training, a singular intent that’s intense and overwhelming. Frankly, it’s unnerving being so seen by someone you’ve considered an enemy for the longest time.
When did he start paying so much attention to you - and how did you miss it?
“Just…” you say, voice a quiet thing that sits in the space between your bodies, “Just get on with it already.”
He doesn’t need any more prompting. Jungkook uses his fingers to spread open your sticky folds. Cool air dances across your core, teasing at your swollen clit as every bit of your pussy is exposed to him.
There’s no hiding the embarrassing amount of slick wetting your thighs or how you pulse and twitch in desire.
He hums in approval at what he sees, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. “Thanks for the meal,” he says, brushing his thumb across the hood of your clit before he ducks down with his tongue out.
The firm, full contact lick has supernovas bursting behind your eyelids. He groans at the taste of you, grinds his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. The sound rumbles through your sensitive flesh, your thighs clenching around his ears.
A sigh escapes your throat, and you rest a hand on the top of his head.
Oh yes, a much better use for that mouth of his.
Your fingers delve into the thickness of his hair, inky black wrapped around your knuckles. For a moment you lose yourself in the sensation, senses so high. Every swipe of his tongue, every roll of cool metal along your heated slit as his lips pull at your folds sets you aflame.
The peace doesn’t last, overtaken by the smouldering antagonism that simmers beneath every one of your interactions. A ticking time bomb set to go off at the slightest provocation.
His face between your thighs inspires a dizzying mix of disgust and desire, that he’s even in this position pisses you off beyond belief.
In retaliation for every wrong he’s ever done (the specifics hazy when he sucks on your clit hard enough to curl your toes, the barest hint of teeth), you yank on his hair with as much strength as you’re able to muster.
His neck wrenches back, and he winces. You luxuriate in the petty revenge of it all as spite blooms warm in your chest. Serves him right. Though you gotta hand it to him, he sure knows how to use his tongue.
“You bitch,” Jungkook groans, smothering the vibrations in your slick folds. You keen, bow your back so far you’re afraid you’ll slip a disc. “That hurt.”
For all his complaining, he doesn’t stop.
Quite the opposite.
He dips his head, so you tug at the roots harder while his hands wrap around your thighs, pinning your hips to the bed while his tongue flicks and teases, licks and fucks you open slowly.
The messy sounds of your cunt as Jungkook eats you out to within an inch of your life broken by soft sighs, moans of pleasure, and the occasional masculine grunt. Previous partners have gone down on you before but never seemed to care for it.
Jungkook on the other hand? He’s loving it, eating you out with single-minded ferocity, seeking his own relief by rutting against the bed.
It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen; the wild briar of his hair in utter disarray, sweat slick strands falling over his forehead while he buries his face in you, the muscles of his back bunching and releasing with every slow rock of his hips, his quiet, muffled moans of satisfaction, the ripple of tattoos as he pets at your flank.
He’s not shy - not that you expected him to be in this regard. You’ve heard all the stories about his prowess in bed from classmates and strangers alike.
All his movements are rough and desperate, wet and messy. The careful, slow teasing from before disappearing within the blink of an eye as he becomes consumed with a frantic desire to feel you cum on his face.
It’s not surprising that you don’t last long, orgasming embarrassingly fast, stuffed full of his tongue and fingers.
“Jungkook,” you choke out his name, a broken sound that fades into open-mouthed silence.
The ball of heat in your belly bursts, rushes over you like a tidal wave. You shake apart, pussy clenching so hard your womb aches as a gush of fluid dribbles out of you, soaking the lower half of your body and the bed.
Stars dance in the darkness behind your lids. You’re strung out and weak, incapable of movement, of thought, of anything besides the actual possibility that your bones dissolved when you came.
“Shit, that’s hot.”
Jungkook shifts.
Your lashes flutter. Breathing is difficult. You can’t feel your hands, the tips of your fingers tingling.
He kneels at the foot of the bed, cum soaking the lower half of his face. His lips red and swollen, his eyes hooded, dark and lusting. Pupils blown so wide the iris is nothing more than a thin ring of brown.
His cock juts from his body in a proud line, curved towards his belly. Smears of pre-cum glitter along the valley of his abs, and you have the strangest urge to lick him clean.
Seeing him look so debauched shouldn’t be as hot as it is, and you want to kick your own ass for thinking about Jungkook like this.
Fucking him is one thing, actively appreciating him something else.
But no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the sight of him kneeling and lusting is a sucker punch to the gut. Breathless and yearning, you’re at war with yourself, contemplating round three when he opens mouth.
Again.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
The jut of his chest, the arrogance in his gaze ruins everything. Anyone halfway decent with their tongue who knows what a clit is can get a woman off. Jungkook’s nothing special - contrary to all those co-ed’s.
Just another run-of-the-mill asshole who thinks he’s a god. You’re reminded of this now that you’re not cum-dumb, brain dribbling out your ears. And just when you forgot why you dislike him.
“You know what, Jeon?”
If you could move, you’d shove him off the bed and get out of dodge. As it is, you’re in no such position; knees weak, thighs shaky as phantom waves of pleasure shoot from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes.
You settle for a nasty scowl. Half as satisfying, but getting your point across all the same. “I’m still not fucking impressed.”
His expression drops into a bitchy sneer.
You want to smack him, wipe that look off his face with your palm. It would be like all your birthdays rolled into one.
“The fuck you mean?” Jungkook asks, brimming with gruff impatience. Good. Arrogant prick. “I made you squirt.”
Ignoring the pounding of your heart, you scoff and dismiss his words, no matter how true they ring. He doesn’t need to know you’ve NEVER done that before. “So? Even I can do that, you’re no better than my vibrator.”
The muscles in his jaw clench, bunching and releasing as his stormy gaze sears you to the bone. For the first time since he started this little - whatever it is - he seems genuinely pissed, shoulders tense and mouth a thin line.
You swoon, the empty ache inside of you pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
“I’ll fucking show you who’s better.”
“Sure you will,” you simper with a nasty grin, tone dripping with sarcasm.
As soon as you prop yourself up on an elbow with full intentions of hopping out of bed, a set of large hands stops you in your tracks. Panic shoots through you, and any residual anger you harbored fizzles away.
He can’t expect you to — oh, but of course, he does.
“No, not like this,” you say while you squirm, attempting to roll onto your belly. “I can’t.”
Fucking face to face is too intimate.
“Mm, no, I don’t think so, baby,” he croons, tone a mocking lilt as he cages you beneath him. “I wanna see your pretty little face when you cream all over my cock.”
Any response gets lost in a weak moan when he rubs himself against your slick folds, the fat head catching on the hood of your abused clit. You whimper, a sharp spike of arousal slicing through you, almost painful when it follows so swiftly on the tail end of your last orgasm.
You try one last time, voice reedy and thin when you say, “Jeon, please, I can’t - fuck.”
The tip slides into you without preamble, just far enough to feel it but not deep enough to get you off. The smug bastard thrusts gently, your tender, swollen walls suckling his cockhead, trying to pull him deeper.
Pure torture.
Mind wiped clean, embarrassment and protests all but forgotten, all your focus narrows down on how to get him inside you as soon as possible.
“Something wrong, baby?” he asks. “Got something to say? You’re squeezing down so hard. Want me deeper, don’t you? What a needy little slut you are for me.”
“Shit, Jeon, come on.” You pant, biting down on a whine. “Just put it in already.”
“Whatever you say.”
He keeps it slow, languidly works his cock deeper into you, inch by agonizing inch. Your muscles flutter, milk his thick shaft. It takes forever and a day before he bottoms out.
And then your eyes roll into the back of your head, hands flying up to anchor your nails into the meat of his shoulders.
He’s right there, cockhead snug against your crevice. Every ridge, every throb; it stokes the embers of your desire higher and higher, stretched so wide around him you ache; he’s the biggest you’ve had. You’ve never felt so stuffed full of cock before, it’s almost scary how good it is.
The taut skin of his belly grinds against your clit when he gets as deep as possible, pelvis flush with yours. “F-Fuck, Jeon.”
Above you, he shoots a cocky albeit weak grin.
You can’t decide if you want to slap him or have him fuck you into the mattress. Probably a bit of both. He boils your blood, but you’ve never been more aroused in your life.
Fucking hell.
“See, what’d I say? I’ll have you screaming my name in no time.”
You groan, breathing deep and slow. “Are you always such a prick?”
He hasn’t moved, but you’re on the edge, and far from ready for this to be over. The asshole hasn’t delivered. You haven’t been fucked raw, and you’re not leaving this bed until he gives it up. Now if only he could shut his mouth long enough to get the show on the road.
“Bitch.” He rolls his eyes, his broad palms firm on your hips while he shifts until your thighs rest over his. “Ready?”
You snort, shoot a comment about his dick not being that special and more than ready to tack on another scathing retort when he decides he’s had enough of your lip, pulling back and snapping his hips forward in one smooth movement.
It punches the air from your lungs.
Your mouth drops open in a near-silent gasp when the head nudges the spongy tissue of your g-spot. The sudden flood of warmth spreads out to all your limbs, pussy throbbing around him.
Your voice is shaky, spread thin, “A-Ah!”
Jungkook isn’t faring any better.
Hot palms tremble against your skin, the furrow to his brow pulling at his piercing, his mouth slack and glossy. His abdominal muscles tense with every stutter of his hips, flexing and resisting the urge to plow into you at max speed.
“Shit, baby, I forgot how tight and soft you are.”
Incapable of speech, reduced to mindless rutting. His broken moan shatters something between the two of you, and then it’s nothing but bruising kisses, sharp keens, rough hands, and frantic fucking.
He slams into you so hard the bed rattles against the wall, punctuating his filthy murmur of, “Perfect fucking fit, just like I knew you’d be.”
You appreciate his rippling muscles with your hands, caressing the firm lines of his body as you do your best to keep pace. Every other thrust has his cock slamming into your g-spot, your toes curling in the sheets.
It’s too much and not enough.
“Jungkook, I’m - I’m,” you sound wrecked, unable to even finish your sentence. “Please.”
“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he growls, voice full of gravel and hips never missing a beat, “I got you. Now do it, cum, wanna feel you squirt on my cock.”
A fingertip finds your clit.
Rubs once, twice, three times, and then you see galaxies.
Crying out, you clutch him close as the bubbling pool of heat overflows, crashes into you like a tsunami. Helpless against the rushing tide. Your body spasms, your cunt gushing around Jungkook’s pistoning cock.
The slick slap of your skin almost as obscene as his groan, low and lewd, when you clench and clamp down on his shaft. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”
Boneless and panting, you sink back into the pillows and stare up at Jungkook with glassy eyes. The early afternoon light highlights the lines of his body, the curves of his muscles, the splashes of color etched into his skin. Tremors wrack your body as you lay there while he chases after his own pleasure.
“Shit, I’m gonna — fffu-ck!”
One last thrust buries him to the hilt, his cum flooding, filling you to the brim. Face slack with pleasure, his head drops into the cradle of your shoulder. He pets your sides with gentle hands, his breath puffing across the sensitive skin of your neck while his body twitches with aftershocks.
The both of you are weak, fucked out.
You lay under him for a long time, silent except for your shuddering breaths. Your bodies coming down from unimaginable heights. When your arms aren’t so useless anymore, you push at his chest and grunt.
“Get off.”
A flood of cum follows his swift exit, thick seed dribbling down your folds and pooling on the sheets beneath your ass. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, a primal sort of appreciation curling through your belly.
Well, that’s new. And something you refuse to unpack now.
Flopping down beside you, Jungkook stretches, his expression far too self-satisfied for your liking. “For being such a bitch, you’re a good lay.”
Leave it to him and his goddamn mouth to ruin the afterglow.
You shoot him a sour look, dragging yourself to your feet.
There’s a moment where you almost fall, wobbly and off-kilter, before you regain your balance. You clean yourself gingerly with a towel hanging half out of the hamper.
Sore, tender, and vindictively pleased to see the white streak of his cum stain the dark terrycloth.
The asshole laughs at your disgruntled look, lounging on the bed like a lazy jungle cat. His thick arms cross behind his head and he watches you with dark eyes as you bend to get your panties.
Try as you might, you can’t help sneaking peeks at his barred chest. The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s noticed the covert looks. You scowl. The smug bastard.
“Don’t be like that, baby. We had a great time.”
Scoffing, you refuse to dignify that with a response, and tug your shirt over your head.
“Wanna know what I think?”
“Not really, but I’m sure that won’t stop you.”
He ignores your sarcasm and continues, nonplussed, “I think you’ve never cum so hard in your life. I think you’re gagging for another ride.”
You pick something up off the floor, chuck it at his head and pivot on your heel. Anger pulses, white-hot and only partially satisfied by the pained groan from behind you as the object makes contact.
“What the hell was that for?”
“You know what that was for. God, are you always such a fucking dickhead?”
“I think you like it,” he says. “I think you like me - I think you’ve always liked me.”
You ignore the burn of your cheeks, and scoff.
The man’s ego is big enough without you adding fuel to the fire. He doesn’t need to know that was the best sex you’ve ever had. That you came so hard your toes curled, and your hands went numb.
“In your dreams, Jeon.”
Keeping your back to him, you’re about to put on your pants when an iron grip shackles itself around your wrist. You tug, testing the hold. He’s unyielding, spearing you with an intense, depthless look.
“...Jeon?”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
You blink, swallow and flounder for a response. “Um, I - home?”
He frowns, and tugs you back towards the bed with a huffy sneer, “Get back in bed.”
Wait, what.
You blink, and blink again at the blush stealing its way across his face, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a soft pink, his eyes resolutely avoiding yours. Can’t help asking, “...What?”
“S-Shut up!”
“I didn’t even-”
“Just come back to bed.”
Still in disbelief of what’s happening, you let Jungkook rearrange you to his liking. You find yourself tucked into the curve of his chest, your nose pressed against his collarbone with his buried in your hair. His lips rest against your forehead, dropping the faintest of kisses to your brow.
“...We’ll talk when you wake up.”
You can’t tell if you’re curious or horrified, but for now, getting a few more hours of sleep sounds like an excellent idea. And, you suppose, it could be worse.
Shacking up with Jungkook isn’t all that bad, so long as he keeps his mouth shut.
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Cooking Up Some Desert
Sometimes working at the Baratie became dull and mundane. Sanji could only stand so much criticism from Zeff.
Therefore you and Sanji would make your own fun, by confusing the staff and annoying Zeff with your flirtatious compliments towards one another. Occasionally pairing them with a cheeky ass grab, or a peck on the cheek. Causing the restaurant to mutter, "are they?" or "aren't they?"
But it was nothing but a game. You and the charming cook has been friends for years, there's no way this silly, harmless game between the two of you could blossom into something more. Right?...
Content: Live action Sanji x GN Reader. Fluff.
Word Count- 900. (Short but sweet)
As the doorman bid the last customers of the night a "Good Evening." Quiet and calm finally settled over the restaurant, a heavy sigh leaving you as you looked around, seeing the multiple plates stacked across the tables.
"Want some help?"
You looked up at the doorman, giving him a kind smile as he approached you. "Thanks, but you don't have to." You assured, "besides doesn't your shift finish now? Y'know, old man Zeff wont pay you over time."
"It's a lot of work for one person, Y/N." He spoke, starting to already pile up the plates onto your cart. "It's not fair-"
"Go home." You took some plates off him, "before you cause some trouble."
Your co-worker sighed, rolling his eyes while quietly admitting defeat. "You work too hard, Y/N. Try and not stay up too late." He spoke over his shoulder, making his way towards the restaurant doors.
"Well..." you lowly muttered, gathering the last remaining plates from nearby tables. "This mess isn't gonna clean itself..."
Pushing the cart into the kitchen, approaching the sink to start your usual washing routine. The sound of a faminular voice snapped you out of your daze.
"Stuck cleaning the dishes again?"
"Stuck waiting tables again?" you teased looking over your shoulder. Seeing Sanji light up his cigarette, as he sat at the table in the corner of the kitchen. "You should really stop pissing the boss off."
"He's just jealous." Sanji scoffed, before taking in another breath of his cigarette. "I'm the best chief in all of the East Blue. Besides, we both know I should be running this place. But the old man is so stubborn, it would never happen!-"
"What would you do so differently?" your curious tone interrupted. "Besides from changing the menu, and giving Patty the kick in the ass he finally deserves."
A small smile teased his lips, as Sanji watched you return to your chore. His blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, that the uniform failed to hide, "I would have you where you belong."
"What's that supposed to mean?" you kept your attention on cleaning the plates. Trying to hide your blushing features.
"With you beside me, of course." A cheeky grin came to Sanji, as he put out his cigarette. "Or rather... you beneath me."
Your heart skipped a little, as the cook's charming attitude matched his sultry tone.
"You don't have to be Head Chief, to get me beneath you." A shy smile spread across your face, as you heard Sanji cough on his own breath. The cook taken aback from your flirtatious words, yet also puzzled by your seemingly oblivious tone.
"Is that so?" Sanji asked, testing to see if he heard right. "You would... let me indulge in you?"
"Something wrong with your hearing, Sanji?" Your smile widened, knowing your innocent tone confused the cook even more.
Sanji couldn't help but sit at the table for a few more moments, as your words slowly sunk into his thoughts. His heart fluttering slightly, as he slowly approached you.
"My little souffle`?"
"Hmm?" a little hum was all you gave him. Not breaking away from your chore, as you could feel Sanji's love struck gaze upon you.
The cook tilted his head to the side, as your sweet giggles came to his ears. "What's so funny?-"
Your giggles rolled into laughter, as you splashed water onto Sanji. Causing him to stop mid-sentence, as he stood a few inches away from you. Feeling the soapy water soak into his stripy button down shirt.
"You cheeky minx!" Sanji chuckled, trying to put his hand into the sink. But only to receive another splash from you, this time soaking his shirt a little more and getting bubbles into his hair. "Come here!"
You slipped from his grasp, as you moved away from him. The kitchen being filled with laughter, as you both weaved in and out of the benches, like children playing a game of 'Tag'.
Standing still for a moment, trying to catch your breath as Sanji briefly dipped from your line of sight.
"Sanji?" you breathed, looking around the seemingly empty kitchen. Your cheeky grin briefly fading, as you called his name for a second time.
"Bend over!"
A surprised yelp escaped your lips, as Sanji's voice broke the temporarily silence. Jumping out of his hiding spot, and leaning you over a nearby bench. His hands caressing your back, soothing your shaky breath. As you propped yourself up slightly, looking over your shoulder only to be greeted by his charming grin.
"This is you get for teasing me."
A small moan slipped from you, as Sanji's hand struck your behind. His hand moving down your spine, taking a gentle hold upon your hip and his free hand landed another spank. Your trousers not proving much shield, as you could already feel your ass slightly throb by the third strike. Knowing fair well, that you're gonna see Sanji's handprint on your behind tomorrow.
The cook slightly stepped away from you, allowing you to fully face him while rubbing your behind.
"Did you had to spank me so hard?"
"What's the fun in going softer?" he teased, trying to adjust his soaked shirt, which was now clinging onto his torso.
"Take this off." Your hands ran up Sanji's chest. A loving sigh escaping him, as your fingers slowly undid each button. "You'll catch a cold-"
"If we're removing clothes, my cherry tart." He moved slightly closer to you, his hips trapping yours against the bench behind you. "I'm assuming you don't have plans on sleeping much tonight."
"Well..." you matched his cheeky grin. Your hands fully undoing his shirt and peeling it off his broad shoulders. Pulling the item down his arms, and lightly dropping it onto the floor. "It would be nice to have you in my bed, rather than in my dreams."
"Oh mon chéri!" (Oh my darling.)
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#sanji x y/n#one piece fluff#one piece live action#one piece netflix#sanji live action#sanji vinsmoke x reader#x reader#fanfiction#fanfic writing#gardens light
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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x Reader - One Shot #3
Talking to the Sky
Plot: While doing some gardening, Y/n deals with unpleasant memories.
Word Count: 753
Warnings: loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)
A/N: Miss me? I know it’s been a while but to be honest, fic writing has just not been a priority. But I wanted to finish this one and get it out since I promised to continue this every once and a while. Since we’re all preoccupied again because of award seasons, I thought it was a good time to revisit Rosebud and Joel.
This one’s a bit more sad than the last few, but I really wanted to do one just of Rose dealing with some of her s-it. Hope it’s somewhat enjoyable!!
————
Winter was somewhere in that middle bit. Jackson had weathered the worst of the storms, but the fierce cold hadn’t let up yet.
Y/n cursed her gloves, two times too big for her hands, as she dug up the soil of her backyard. She was attempting to plant a garden, emphasis on attempting. She’d done a fair amount of gardening pre-Cordyceps, but that was purely for pleasure. This had more weight to it.
Those who worked the greenhouses had helped her during their shifts. They’d taught Y/n which plants grew during which seasons, some blooming best in winter and others in the summer. There was a science to it more important than ever to know.
Y/n was planting a medley of vegetables, fruit and herbs. She couldn’t feel her knees anymore, the cold having sept into her joints within minutes. She built a few mounds, burying the seeds below and allowing enough space between piles.
She sat back on her feet, struck by a memory she’d been trying to ignore.
Flower bushes.
The looming warmth of a Texas spring.
Sarah’s laughter.
Dirt under their fingernails.
Y/n sighed, her chest aching from something far sharper than the cold.
Finding Joel in Boston hadn’t been the catalyst to bringing back life to her memories. Sarah had lived in her mind every minute of every day since the girl had left the Earth. Etched in her heart till the end of time. But between settling in Jackson and marrying Joel, living some strange version of the life they’d wanted, it breathed new air into Sarah’s ghost. Sometimes it rendered Y/n speechless, frozen somewhere between the past and the present.
She looked up the sky, the cloud coverage shielding her eyes from the sun.
“You hated when I made you do this,” Y/n spoke to the air, “You never liked getting your hands dirty but you were smiling. The whole time. So there was never much weight to what you said.”
“I remember that time we were planting those flowers in the backyard,” she continued, “Daisies or roses…I don’t really remember, just that they were beautiful when they bloomed that summer. That your dad wouldn’t admit to them prettying up the place because ‘What’s there to pretty up?’”
Y/n chuckled, Joel had never made a big deal about the little changes Sarah and her made to the house. They both knew he secretly liked them and loved the two of them too much to ever say no.
“He’s gotten worse, if you can imagine it,” Y/n looked down at her shovel, wiping some of the dirt off, “If you thought he was bad in the morning then,” she whistled, “But he’s also…better. He’s him.”
Y/n sunk into the snow a little deeper. The cold didn’t matter anymore. “The other day, I caught him humming to himself. He was doing the dishes and I came in from patrol and…it just reminded me of all the times we’d catch him singing and he’d deny it,” she smiled, “We’d literally be standing right there and he’d say it was the fridge or something.”
Her little laugh quieted, turning somber. The sweet memory inevitably turned sad.
“God, I miss you,” Y/n whispered as her throat tightened, “I miss you so much. Everything I do in this house, I keep looking over and expecting you to be right next to me.“
She paused, beginning to feel just a drop of the sun’s distant warmth. “And then your dad comes in or Uncle Tommy and it’s like you’re there. Making us laugh, calling us old…and for two seconds, it feels okay. Not perfect, but alright, and I can get through the rest of the day,” Y/n rubbed her running nose and looked back up at the sky, “Just keep doing that. Don’t ever leave us down here on our own.”
Y/n had long lost track of time since starting her work, and she didn’t hear the front door open. Joel was home from patrol duty. He walked through the empty house, looking more and more like their home each day, looking for someone to greet.
“Rose,” Y/n heard Joel call from inside. She wiped a melancholy tear away and got to her feet.
Taking one more look at the grey sky, she smiled, as if Sarah was radiating her presence down from the clouds. Telling her to get inside and hug her husband. Help make dinner. Make their remote corner of the world a little brighter. Just as Sarah would have.
——————
TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (more tags in comments 🩵)
#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#the last of us imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller imagine#twenty years later
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Raphael & Jaheira: You All Meet at an Inn
A/N: I had to get an intro out of the way before proper sassing down the line. And apologies, I'm out of practice with writing.
R & J: Let's be honest, his taste in wine is so much better than hers
Like many of his kind, the devil was a series of contradictions.
Handsome but not striking. Languid, but only on a cursory inspection. A more pointed observation would showcase the taut muscles in his shoulders and thighs, hinting that the lazy rolling motion of his wrist was intentional rather than instinctual. And, perhaps most importantly, despite the ostentatiousness of his garb, rich blues, reds, and golds, which demanded attention and respect, few of the Last Light’s patrons truly saw him.
Jaheira did not fault them for the oversight. The High Harper noted it with a world-weary amalgamation of affection and exhaustion. Few prey animals noticed the hunter until it was upon them. Man and beast were not such disparate creatures.
She shifted, rolling her shoulders to alleviate some residual tension—the aches that never seemed to properly fade these days, which had faded until only a decade prior. She should turn him out. And aye, much like the aches, even a decade ago, she might have done something about his presence—but where was the harm? He stuck to his corner and played his games.
In the darker stretches of the night, his attention shifted away from the lance-board and his books towards the door. The devil waited.
Jaheira waited, too.
The devil lifted his head, eyes flicking from the Mystra piece to the Harper. He made a show of it, eyes widening, lips turning up in a smile—noticing her, seemingly for the first time. She snorted, arching a brow. He shrugged, expression relaxing into something more neutral and more genuine, motioning to the seat across from him.
“You know, I rather wondered which of us would bring our little dance to its close,” he began, voice warm and rich. His lips twitched, expression colored with so many masterful little notes—presumed intimacy, natural familiarity…they might have been old friends meeting for drinks in any alehouse. Easiness and charm…the domain of all his kind. His eyes glittered in the firelight.
The half-elf sunk into the chair, holding her arms out wide. “Shall we continue circling each other like coquettish maids?” Jaheira waved him off. “Who has time for it?”
“Certainly not you, High Harper. All this,” he motioned around them, attention flicking to the window and the shadows just beyond. “Resting on your shoulders…such a weighty calling.”
“You offer to take it from me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You are so…uniquely equipped for these travails.”
Jaheira snorted. “Let us call it experience—hard won over many years of life.” She tipped her head to the side, regarding him closely. Without a room of distance between them, she could appreciate the more minor details of this mortal form: wrinkles near the corners of his eyes, hints of sunspots across the back of his hands, and streaks of gray brightening otherwise dark hair. He felt fully manifest in a way so many of his ilk failed to recognize—the little things grounded an illusion in reality. “Come, tell me what to call you. In my head, it is ‘devil this, devil that’...tedious.”
His eyes widened. “You shall have to forgive this lapse in manners—it’s the setting, you see. One really isn’t at their best.” He mimed a bow, someone still regal despite the confines of the chair. “I am Raphael—very much at your service.”
“A pleasant name! Well-suited to this pleasant face.”
Raphael hummed. With a snap of his fingers, the lance-board disappeared. In its place, a bottle of brandy. She did not recognize the label’s language. “A devil in your house, and yet…we are rather blase.”
“Do not take it personally.” She ghosted her fingers across the table. “Gods of death, demon princes…after these things—” his muscles drew taut, eyes narrowing as she spoke. “ —your feathers are very pretty, but… you make for a much smaller bird.”
To his credit, Raphael laughed. He poured them each a glass of wine. As if in concession, he took the first sip—no poison. Jaheira bowed her head and followed suit. The wine’s bouquet blossomed across her tongue—rich and deep, a hint of cherry and leather giving way to softer, more subtle notes. It reminded her of Calimshan—pleasant evenings before the true weight of adventuring settled on her shoulder…when she’d been young, Khalid at her side.
The knowing glint in his eye said he’d anticipated such a reaction. A smaller bird, perhaps, but cunning. I have survived so many years, his gaze said, and I have thrived for good reason.
“To walk so freely on the Prime is no small thing. And you do not seem the sort to bind yourself to the whims of mortals…” she tapped her chin. “A cambion, then.”
“Are we to trade parlor tricks, my dear? Shall I ask if your house qualified you as a ‘princess’ or a ‘lady’ in Tethyr?”
“A lady, though my youngest will argue that point till she is blue in the face.” Jaheira held up her glass in salute. “Do not take offense—it was a compliment, one mongrel to another.”
Raphael chuckled. “One mongrel to another.” The cambion sighed, relaxing back into his seat. He stroked his chin, fingers teasing across the whisper of stubble—not quite a day’s growth, perhaps a matter of hours. A testament to his dedication and vanity—over the past week, he’d never moved from his seat by the window. “Shall we be honest with each other, ladyship?”
“It depends. Will honestly not make your skin itch?”
“You wound me. I am a paragon of virtue to friends and clients both. And the honest truth is I am awaiting a favorite distraction of mine.” He sipped his wine again. “I dare say they might even solve the lion’s share of your problems. Interested?”
She hummed. Jaheira settled more comfortably in her chair. “Sing me your song, lovely bird. Perhaps…we may yet benefit one another.”
#bg3 raphael#raphael bg3#jaheira#high harper jaheira#bg3 fanfiction#sassy old people#sassy old 'not royals' being passive aggressive and bitchy#my writing#i ignored doing an assignment worth 30% of my grade for these hags
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Sugar II (part 2)
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: language, angst, Josh is perfect, angst, also maybe some angst
I’m so happy that you are all enjoying Sugar 2.0 as much as I am! I’ve missed this little world so much and it just makes me smile to know that you missed it too ❤️
Curled up into a tight ball under hotel room sheets, your mascara smudges across and stains the bleach-white pillowcases. And you might feel a little guilty about that if you could form a halfway coherent thought.
You’d expected a coworker, also dragged into town for this god forsaken conference, when you’d heard your name skittering across the marbled lobby floors. Turning to find Daniel, dripping in Greek God beauty and memories, had stolen the air from your lungs.
Quite literally, you had found it impossible to breathe for a few panicky moments as your eyes darted around in search of those that might be tagging along with him.
The warm, nostalgic feeling of stumbling across an old, dear friend had been overshadowed and twisted by fear…and a horrible, throbbing sadness; there was a time when this was your life…the last time anything had made any sense.
The overwhelming urge to sob in his arms had left you aching when he’d pulled you in for a bear hug. Somehow, his being so near had made home feel that much further away.
Take me to him. You’d wanted to beg Danny, clinging to his sturdy frame.
Now, you just want to run. To pack up your things in a hurry and flee the building as if it were engulfed in flames. You wish you were shoving your bag into an overhead compartment on a plane bound for anywhere that isn’t here.
This is too close. They are too close.
Three years it’s been, and he is still the first thing that weighs like sand on your mind when your eyes blink open in the morning…and your very last thought before they drift closed at night.
Has it really been three years? It doesn’t seem possible.
You think of Josh, too. Of course you do. But it is with a distant fondness for what you had. He is a pretty memory. A good memory. One you can recall easily, and with wistful affection. You can speak of him readily, with gentle sentiment. It was a great thing you had, and now it is no longer. Simple.
Jake.
You try so hard not to think of Jake, but he’s there all the time anyway. Cozied up inside your head like he owns the place, no matter how many times you’ve ordered him to vacate. He always was stubborn, and his memory has proven no different. There is a hole in your soul shaped exactly like him. Hardly a blip of light in your eyes; you left most of it there with him all those moons ago.
You could so easily satiate your searing need in some minuscule manner, via YouTube interviews, balcony seats at shows where you would stand no chance of being spotted. The wails of his guitar could pour from your speakers and right into your chest whenever it feels too hollow. You could fall asleep to samplings of his velveteen voice, rasping answers to questions floated from radio hosts and devour written pieces where he speaks so eloquently and with such reverence about his craft…
You could, but you don’t.
You do none of these things. It simply cuts too deeply.
Early on, you did. Tortured yourself as you sobbed and cried out in the night like a homesick child. Yes, in those early days, you’d punished your fractured heart and yearning mind with pain; sunk your teeth into and gnashed them together, fearful of letting go.
But you’ve found your way. Tripped clumsily along, patching together a new normal slowly. The diamond that rests upon your ring finger reminds you of that…and you feel sick with self loathing. Weeping in this strange bed over what used to be, while he waits at home for you, happily watering your plants and tending to the household chores. Loving you from a distance.
He sends you texts just to say he loves you, and so you’ll know you’re on his mind. To ask if you’d like him to pick up anything from the store so you won’t have to worry about it when you return home. To remind you that he adores you in a hundred little ways.
…and here you lie, in a bed that isn’t the one you share with him, chest caving in around your heart, squeezed up tight and longing for Jake.
Jake, Jake, Jake…always Jake. Why won’t he go away?
A knock, swift and sure, startles you out of your misery with a jolt.
You don’t plan to answer, that’s a given…you’re a mess, complete with a blotchy, tear streaked face, and swollen eyes…so you’re silent as you creep over to the door to have a peek through the peephole.
He looks angelic, waiting out there in the hall nervously fidgeting. His curls look like home and your fingers itch to touch them, innocently. Almost the same, and so different all at once, now closely clipped at the sides. He looks reminiscent of his younger self. A little like the Josh you’ve only ever known through pictures; the Josh before he swept into your life like a tornado of light and smiles. He always was so beautiful. So offbeat. So eclectically mishmashed together and esoteric.
It’s like spotting a twin flame that you never expected to see again. Like the dead has risen…
…and before you’re consciously aware of your actions, you’re sliding the lock and cracking open the door.
“Hello, sweet girl.” His voice is soothing, and weighed down heavy as it slams into your head and scrambles your brain.
“Josh,” is all you’re able to manage, stupidly.
“As beautiful as ever, mama.” He smiles, flashing that tiny gap in his teeth that used to make you weak.
“Now, listen,” he holds a hand up and then shoes away whatever notion he’s about to bring up, “Don’t you hold this against our dear Daniel…I know you didn’t want to see us,” he lowers his voice into a conspiring whisper, “but you should know, he’s become a terrible tattletale in your absence.”
Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact that you’ve left him standing in the hall like an unwelcome stranger. Against your better judgment, you invite him in.
He’s careful not to touch you, mindful of overstepping in a way that’s so out of character for him it makes you feel unsteady.
“You really do look lovely, sweetheart.” He smiles, “A vision. I’ve missed you, my friend. I’ve missed you very much.”
‘My friend’ stings a little at first, but within a blink, it settles and feels right - you were always friends. Friends before it became love, friends while it was love…
The Josh you knew possessed a great many talents, and quick adaptability was listed among them. He allowed the fickle winds of life to toss him about like no one you’d ever known, and had an ever present and uncannily firm grasp on relationships, and an admiration for how they can shift and morph.
He also always was a cool liar when it was for the greater good. Some things clearly never change.
Nervously, you sweep a hand through your hair and blot your eyes with the backs of your hands, “Lovely my ass…c’mere.”
With little reservation, you tug him in close and fold your arms around him. An unexpected huff of a laugh escapes you when you feel his familiar warmth.
He hugs you back, long and hard, with a soft, “Hi, baby, hi.”
“How’d you find me, you stalker?” You joke tenderly as he sways your bodies back and forth. “I didn’t give Danny my room number.”
That chuckle of his that you’d buried in the past trots out to say hello, “A trip to the front desk was all it took. Have you forgotten the Kiszka charm so easily?”
“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes, though you’re still wrapped up tightly together and he cannot see.
“Okay,” he concedes “the Kiszka charm and maybe a hundred tucked into a hand or two.”
How strange that you had begged Danny not to tell him; his embrace is blissful and you’ve missed him terribly.
Still, there is a phantom in the room with the two of you, and you know without a doubt that he feels it too.
When he pulls back, his hands slip down your arms to clasp around yours…and he sees it.
“Oh my, mama,” he tugs it up closer for inspection, “would you look at that. Going to the chapel, huh?”
“I—“ for some unknown reason, you pull your hand away and tuck it behind your back as though you’ve been caught in a shameful act.
He tilts his head, regarding you carefully “Can we sit?”
With a welcoming gesture, you usher him in further, and like the gentleman he’s always been, he opts for the chair and doesn’t mention the disheveled bed, or its wept upon pillows.
After you settle in respectively, there’s a long stretch of silence in which you both seem to just sort of sink into being in the same room together again. Finally, he breaks the ice.
“He can’t know you’re here. It won’t be like this,” he waves a finger back and forth between the two of you, indicating the ease in which you’ve reunited.
A choked sob threatens to breach your lips at the mere mention of him, and your hand darts up to press it back.
“And he certainly can’t know about that.” Josh points to your ring winking obnoxiously in the light.
“Of course,” you nod rapidly, blinking tears back. “Yes, of course not…but, is he…” falling silent, your gaze lands on your bare toes and stays there.
“Is he, what?” Josh’s voice is kind, and you are so grateful for it. “Okay? No, sweetheart. He’s very far from okay. I should lie for him, I know I should. He’s my brother…I should tell you he’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been.”
“Will you?” There is a desperate hope in your plea that makes you cringe inwardly. “Will you tell me he’s happy?”
His eyes, so like his twins, and so full of sorrow, watch you for such a long time you begin to squirm this way and that in your seat. “Sit still, mama…” he finally scolds with the tiniest wink to soothe your anxiety, “he’s happy. He’s fine. But best if you just steer clear, alright?”
“So he’s happy? Or you should lie, Josh? Which is it?” Why are you asking? You don’t want to know. It’s infinitely easier to swallow the lie. You can’t stand the thought of Jake broken still and riddled with the pain you know so well.
With a sigh, he avoids your gaze. “You know the answer to that already, it seems. Are you?” His eyes flick towards your engagement ring, “Happy, I mean? Are you?”
Now it’s your turn to lie, “Yes. Very.”
He nods, and then glances at the mascara glaring from your pillows like evidence at trial. “Yes, it would seem so.”
“Josh, I—“
“Look,” he cuts you off, stressing with urgency. “We’re only here for the night. Lay low if you can. He’s bad off, and to see you would level him. To see you with that,” he once again points out your ring, “Would kill him. You leaving…”
A shaking breath rattles his shoulders, “It wasn’t easy for either of us, but Jake? Jake is still in that hotel room you walked out of a thousand nights ago. He never left, sweet girl. He never fucking left…and as much as I know that it’s not your fault…”
He trails off in thought and then drags in a hitching hiss of air, “As much as I know it isn’t either of our faults, I still place all that blame right here, with you and me. I can’t watch him descend any further, alright? So just lay low until we’re gone. For me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand questions beating like bird’s wings against the cage of your mind, “Yes, of course.”
Another lull slips in to visit until he shakes his head slowly, “How did I ever manage to get over you? You truly are beautiful. I’d almost forgotten…that’s heartbreaking.”
There is an innocuous lilt to his tone that warms your soul like cocoa with the fattest marshmallow bobbing along in the mug, and you feel your cheeks turn pink under his open, golden gaze.
“Me?” You laugh, “What about you, gorgeous? I love the hair.”
“Oh, you know,” he brushes his palms over the sides with a bashful shrug, “I let Sam trim it, scissors slipped…had to do something.”
“Still blaming Sam for all of life’s tragedies?” You laugh again. You always did laugh so freely with him, and you’ve missed it more than you ever allowed yourself to realize.
He scoffs with the faintest roll of his sparkling eyes “Obviously. That’s what the youngest is for, mama. You know this. And speaking of Samuel, you understand that Daniel will tell him, right? Those two might as well just get married and call it a day.”
Another giggle sounds out of you, “Don’t be jealous, Joshua. It’s unbecoming. Danny loves you, too…and Sammy I would say definitely considers you a solid acquaintance.”
“Yes, well, my acquaintance would be thoroughly crushed if he didn’t get the chance to at least say hello to you. Maybe later tonight? After the show?” He leans forward and toys with the beads swinging between his knees. “How would that be?”
“Only Sammy?”
He holds up two fingers, scout’s honor, “Only Sammy.”
You agree, and catch up a while longer until it’s time for him to take his leave, and you can’t help the confession that blurts out of your mouth without eloquence.
“You said he never left that hotel room,” you waver with bitten back tears. “It wasn’t…I don’t want you to think…it took me a very long time to leave that room, too.”
One last time, before the door closes behind him, his eyes linger on your pillow and the evidence of your tears, and then find yours, “Sweetheart, are you sure you’ve left it at all?”
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#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fan fiction#fanfic#greta van smut#gvf fic#greta van fic#jake gvf#josh kiszka#jake kiszka fanfiction#jake kiskza x reader#josh kiszka fanfiction#josh kiskza smut#josh kiszka fic#josh gvf#gvf smut#gvf josh#gvf
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Trouble After Paradise (Part 2)
Warnings: slightly sexual content, explicit language, again angst
Summary: if you haven't already, read part 1 here !
A/N: For context, below is the visual image you will need to keep in mind for this part. Trust me. It will help.
This part is also a lot shorter. The good stuff to come is in Part 3. I should have the last part up by Saturday. It’s super hard trying to write and upload during the week because I work 8 hour days!
You had spent the first ten minutes that morning after Harry left for his run, doing some laundry. It helped to keep you occupied instead of going insane as you nervously anticipate his return. You aren't sure exactly how long he's planning on keeping up the silent treatment act for but you honestly don't think you can take it a second longer.
You then made about ten pancakes, shaped in hearts, all dished onto a cute pink heart plate you purchased about a year ago when you and Harry were making purchases for your new house. It was one of those plates that only get used for special occasions and to be honest, you were using whatever you could at this point to say sorry.
You then squeezed some fresh orange juice into a glass jug and set the table for the two of you. Some coffee also prepared to be made for his return. You cut up a few strawberries and threw them into a bowl with blueberries. Making sure the few final bits and pieces were also at arms length, you placed some whipped cream and maple syrup in the centre of the table, between yours and your husbands plates.
Looking at the scene you created, you were chuffed. You don't expect a breakfast made for his return will solve all of your problems, but, perhaps it might encourage him to finally speak to you about it.
After almost an hour, Harry finally returned from his run. You knew this because you could hear the door close as you were finishing up cleaning the kitchen. Your heart sunk to your stomach.
You stand there in the middle of your house, looking awkward and not really knowing what to do with yourself, or where to look as he walks towards the kitchen. He takes off his sun glasses then takes out his AirPods, not paying too much attention to his surroundings at first as he's focusing on steadying his breathing after running for so long.
"I made us breakfast. The same way I did it on Valentines Day, you remember?" You nervously ramble to catch his attention. Pointing over to the small dining table and although Harry is wearing that harsh frown on his face as he looks and listens to you, you notice the way he seems less tense that earlier.
"Is all of that supposed to fix what you did last night?" He bluntly asks, almost straight away.
"Obviously not, Harry." You sigh and you want to roll your eyes at his attitude so badly but you restrain yourself. You walk closer to him and thankfully he doesn't back away. You can see the sweat covering the entirety of his skin. It glistens in every angle of light in your sight. His muscles larger due to excessive use of them recently.
You've barely even realised how much his facial hair has actually grown since you saw him last week. You never cared much for it in the past but this grown out moustache is quite the distracting feature for the current moment.
You're stood in front of him now, only a step away from a hug but you dare not even try to touch him. He's staring you down. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he's genuinely disappointed and it crushes your soul to know you caused that sad look.
"I thought we could talk it through over a nice breakfast." You almost whisper. "Can we sit down, please?" You then add, eyes directed towards the table.
Without verbally replying to you, Harry just walks past you and heads upstairs towards your room.
You've had enough now. You're done waiting and you're done sucking up to him. He won't even listen to you and he's wasting the time you two have by dragging this on.
You wait a few moments, covering up the food so it doesn't get cold because you know it will get eaten at some point today.
"Right! That's it! Harry Styles, I've given you your space and I've let you go mute on me, but I am not tolerating this anymore. I need you to listen to me!" You begin ranting loudly as you storm your way up the stairs.
You enter your room to find Harry still sweaty but undressing himself as he's obviously about to get into the shower. He only managed to get his hat, shoes, and shirt off before you barged in.
He's stood in the ensuite with that angry pout on again, looking as angry as ever with you. He almost opens his mouth to retaliate but you cut him off before you give him the chance.
"No listen, Harry. I fucked up massively! I know that and I have no excuse for being an idiot to forget to pick you up and to forget about our dinner.” At this point Harry is arching a brow in amusement at your boldness. He’s still visibly livid but he’s listening.
“I was so caught up in wanting to spend more time with you this week. The only way I could make that happen was to race through three days worth of work yesterday just so I could have Monday and Tuesday with you because I miss you so fucking much." You say all in one breath. You're too heated to cry at the moment but you know as soon as this explanation is over you will probably tipple over the edge.
"I should've called you and should’ve stayed in touch to keep you in the loop but my mind has been on high-stress over-drive since we got back from our honey-moon. Work has not given me a second to breathe and unfortunately I’ve let it affect us which makes me so angry with myself but you have to know I would never do this on purpose. Please." And that was it, you said all that you needed too. It was a weight lifted and you literally had to gasp for air at one point but you did it.
"I'm so fucking angry with you." Harry deadpans but his actions next completely throw you off. “I’m angry but I can’t stand not being around you anymore. Fuck this.”
He storms toward you and grabs your face between his hands with a mild force as he brings his lips down harshly onto yours in a rushed, salty kiss. It's sloppy and full of anger but you melt into him with a small whine escaping from the back of your throat as your hands snake up his broad, sweaty shoulders and yank him closer in the kiss but tugging your fingers through the ends of his damp hair.
“Will you forgive me though? We only have until Wednesday morning to be together properly and I don’t want us to be like this the whole time. I’m really sorry. Please, Harry, my perfect husband, let me make it up to you?” You coax him and use that flirty tone in your voice that you knows has him in the palm of your hand.
Your soft hands are running up and down his large biceps and shoulders. Your eyes all doe like as you pout at him. He’s finding it so hard to resist. He holds you in his arms, still. He’s thinking of what to do next.
“I know a few ways how you could make it up to me.” He smirks ever so slightly. His eyes darting to your lips as you lick them knowingly.
His eyes darken and the energy has shifted in those few moments. He’s obviously forgiven you but he’ll never say it. Instead he wants to make up the way you both like to best. Sex.
“And what do you have in mind, moustache man?” You tease. Harry raises his brows in surprise before he leans forward and starts leaving small bites into the crook of your neck. You wince at the mixed sensation of pain, pleasure and the tickling from his moustache as he attacks your neck.
“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” He retaliates. Yanking you towards him harshly so he can pick you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry's house album#harry styles one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harrysmut#harry styles angst
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Sinned Awakening pt. 21🩸
An AU Elvis fic
(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]
TW: Cussing, SMUTTT, mentions of blood/gore!!!
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 7.1k
A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! Thanks for convincing me to keep writing! The support over this fic is amazing so thank you so so much! Exciting stuff is happening in this part and really hope you enjoy where I’ve taken this! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined ❤️
A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.
If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.
May 1973
Spoiled was an understatement of how you were getting treated by Elvis these last few weeks. You didn’t deserve such things, but he was insistent. You two flew around the country, getting to see things you never thought you’d get the chance to in this life. Elvis canceled his upcoming tour to spend time with you and his manager just about lost his head about it. Elvis gave him one look that just about drained all the color out of his face when he said no to him. He never got questioned about it after that.
Elvis was sure he was going to give you every human experience you wanted to have. Part of you was excited to try new things, taste new foods, and see places you never knew existed. There was another small part of you would miss certain things. You’d miss the warmth of the sun, and the comfort of a soft blanket wrapped around you. All of it would be so different for you. An unknown world was going to be unleashed and it was going to be a huge adjustment. Elvis was gracious and patient with you, assuring you everything was going to be alright. You believed every word he said, knowing he would be by your side through the entire time.
He kept you up all night making deep, passionate love to you at all hours of the night. You weren’t going to miss sleep that’s for sure. He was making up for lost time and was worshiping you any chance he could. Making love to him was like a song, something that started slow and sultry, then crescendos into something electric and thrilling. He knew how to make you sing and hit all the right notes. You were indeed his favorite song to play.
You knew he tried to ignore the bite marks on your body, but you felt when his eyes would stare at them in frustration. You suggested to him to feed from those scarred spots, hoping that maybe his bite would heal them in some way but he wouldn’t let himself do that. The shame and guilt he had inside him was still present and it was going to take time to get through those feelings.
But you’d let him feed when he wanted and he began to not be as shy about asking if he could. The more he did it, the more you found it insanely attractive. The pain was still prominent when he initially sunk his teeth in you but it faded away after a short period of time. It was something he needed to survive and you were more than happy to give that to him. Each time he fed, there was a small part of you that wanted him to finish the process so you could turn. But he wouldn’t let himself do that to you. He was adamant about keeping you human til your birthday like you wanted.
He took you to Hawaii the week of your birthday and you think that this has to be your new favorite place in this world. It was more stunning than you could ever imagine. Elvis would tell you stories of the times he’s visited and the movies he’s made there. He was here earlier in the year recording the first worldwide concert via satellite. He was so proud of the concert, every time he brought it up, he had this big smile on his face and was so happy he got to do it. He couldn’t help but marvel over the fact he made history doing that concert. He definitely had a love for this place and you could see why. The waters were more blue than you could have dreamed and cool enough to relax your body after laying out on the beach for too long.
Elvis would watch you enjoy your time here while he stayed underneath the shade of an umbrella. He would come and join you for a bit in the water and keep his shirt on to shield him as much as possible from the sun. It made his skin hurt though and he couldn’t stay out there that long with you. You understood and thought it was cute he still wanted to be out there with you regardless. After your legs get tired from swimming, you get out of the water and receive a devious look from him, his eyes eating you up as water dripped off your body. You smirk at him and shake your head gently.
“What do we have here,” he says softly.
“It’s just me,” you say shyly.
“No, I think it’s the love of my life,” he says pulling you on top of him.
He scoops you into his arms, holding you tightly and taking a deep breath in, giving you kisses on your cheek. His cool body temperature gives you goosebumps after getting out of the water and need a towel to dry off. He senses you’re cold and wraps a towel around you that was lying out in the sun getting warm. It felt so nice on your skin, making you feel cozy and warm.
“Let's go back to the room for a bit hmm?” He says softly. You nod your head and he takes your hand as you walk toward the hotel. You had the penthouse suites, of course, to give you and Elvis the most amount of privacy while you stayed here. He would get awestruck looks while you went through the lobby and a few people stopped him for an autograph.
You took the elevator all the way up to the top floor, holding him around his waist. The mood felt tense like he was nervous for you. Once you both are in the room, he locks the door behind him and looks at you softly, his eyes looking unwaveringly. You smile at him and turn to go on the balcony, looking out at the light blue waters on the horizon. You don’t hear him walk your way, but feel his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back into his body. You sigh at the feeling of him, loving him more than you could have possibly imagined.
“Are you having a good birthday honey?” He asks low into your ear.
“Yes, I am. The best one ever,” you hum softly.
“Well, if you wanted to have more birthdays, you can always have that option…” he trails off. You squeeze at his hand, turn around to face him, and pull him in for a kiss.
“No, I don’t need any other special days when I get to have you forever,” you assure him.
“Mhmm… okay baby, as long as you’re happy. Was there anything else you wanted?” He asks, slowly trailing his hand down your back.
You can’t help that your heart gallops at the sight of him or how he has that look on his face that could make you do anything he wants. He smirks at the sound of your fluttering heart and pulls you in closer. Your bodies melt into each other and your brain begins to fog over at any logical thinking. You repeat the question he asked in your head and smirk at him.
“N-no, there’s nothing else I could possibly want. Was there anything you wanted to give me?” You ask cheekily.
He chuckles amused, tucking your hair behind your ear, “yes there was. There was one more human thing I wanted to give you…” he says. You look at him a bit confused, not sure what he’s getting at.
“When I first told you about our bond, I knew it was hard for you. The notion of giving up your human life and being part of a vampire one was a lot to handle. I know you said you were scared and had a future to look forward to and make for yourself. That’s why we’ve been traveling so much, getting you to see new things you never have before. And that will never stop, I’ll keep showing you new places. I wanted to give you something else that you mentioned you were going to miss.”
He slowly bent down on one knee and pulled a ring box from his pocket. He opens the small, red velvet box and looks up at you, love overflowing his gaze. A stunning diamond ring is looking at you and sparkles in the sunlight.
“Honey, will you do the immense honor of marrying me?” He says as his voice trembles.
You hold your breath, not believing this is really happening. The diamond was huge. You’d never seen something so extravagant other than the rings Elvis wears. It was an emerald cut with a pavé band in yellow gold and was the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.
“Oh my God, honey, are you serious?!” You breathe.
“Yes baby, I want you. In every possible way, in the human way, by making you my wife, but also as my Chosen and make you mine forever,” he confesses.
Tears well up in your eyes and your heart leaps out with joy and love for him.
“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, your voice shaky and in disbelief.
He stands up to wrap you in his arms and hug you tightly. He kisses you with so much love and passion it makes you dizzy. You pull at his arms to have him somehow hold you tighter and it leaves you breathless. He pulls away to look at you, smiling and taking the ring out of the box.
You shakily hold your hand out and he slips the ring on your finger. It was a perfect fit and looked more beautiful than you could have ever imagined any ring could have looked on you.
“We can go get married whenever you want. Just tell me when and I’ll make it happen,” he tells you.
“What about the press? Won’t it look weird if you just suddenly get married after just getting divorced?” You ask worried.
“I don’t care about that darlin’. You’re all I care about and what makes you happy. We can do it whenever you want.”
“What about right now? Just go to city hall and do it right there? What do you think?” You say.
He looks at you a little shocked, not expecting you to be so ready for this.
“Yeah, baby? You don’t want a big wedding with your family and friends? There’s no rush,” he says softly.
“Yeah, that’s what I want. And besides, I want my husband to turn me later,” you press, knowing he’s going to like the sound of that. A low emitted growl comes from his chest and he squeezes your arms.
“Mhmm… that sounds like the most perfect way to go about it,” he says pulling you in for another kiss.
He called his guys and had them arrange everything and get a car ready to head down to city hall. He had enough connections that it wasn’t an issue to put everything together and get a marriage license ready for him. Everyone came to city hall and witnessed you both say your vows and celebrate with you.
It was just enough, it was special but there wasn’t too much attention drawn to you which sounded like your worst nightmare for a wedding. At that moment, it was just you and Elvis. You all quickly got out of the building before the word got leaked that Elvis is now married to a new mystery woman no one’s ever seen him with. For a split second, you think of your mom and Anna finding out this news in the newspaper without a heads up from you. You knew it wasn’t the best way to go about it but you’d deal with them later and knew they’d understand.
Everyone celebrates up in the penthouse with you both, happiness filling the room and joyful laughter. Elvis kept his arm around you the entire night, not letting you leave his side. He looked down at you from time to time and would just mutter something under his breath you couldn’t hear. You reach up for a kiss and he gives you a soft and tender one.
The sun was starting to set and the sky filled with a beautiful golden-orange sky. As you’re looking out the window, he bends down slightly so he can whisper something in your ear, “I think it’s time to kick everyone out and let me enjoy time with just my wife,” he says softly. Your heart gallops at the notion and you nod your head in agreement. Elvis gets everyone to leave and makes sure to tell them that no one disturb us. The door closes and you shiver at the way he’s looking at you.
He walks slowly to you, not having to say a word to get you to come to him.
“I love you,” he whispers, pulling you into his arms.
“I love you too,” you say back, pulling at his collar and getting him to kiss you. His lips crash into yours and your hands roam freely on his body.
“What did you want to do now?” You ask cheekily.
“It’s your day, you tell me what you need from me,” he says. His tone of voice and the way the slightest touch makes you unravel has to be one of the best things in the world. You would never get enough of him.
You pull him in closer by his arms, “I think you know what I want…I want you to change me,” you plead.
He takes a sharp breath, looking down at you with lust, need, and apprehension in his eyes.
“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to rush anything. It doesn’t have to be today. You could just enjoy being married as a human for a bit,” he assures.
“I’m positive. I want this more than you know. I’m ready to be completely yours,” you hum into his ear. He lets out a pleased grumble and squeezes you tighter, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He quickly releases the grip he has on your waist.
“Sorry baby didn’t mean to squeeze ya so tight,” he snickers, his hands consuming your body.
“Was there a certain way you wanted to do this? I want to make this as painless as possible,” he says softly, concern filling his eyes.
“No, I thought you would know how to do this the best,” you say jokingly.
“Well, yes, I’ve turned people before. I’ve just never turned someone I love so dearly… this is all new to me too,” he jests.
Your heart thumps faster, anxiety and intrigue filling your veins. A million things run through your head and you don’t know what to do exactly. There isn’t a play-by-play of how to become a vampire exactly. Would you go into a blood frenzy the second he bites you? Could it be contained? What would this all feel like? You sort through your scattered thoughts and try to ask them calmly.
“And where should I… bite you?” You say softly. He looks at you intensely, liking the sound of that proposition already.
“Anywhere you want baby, your instincts will take over and you’ll know what to do, trust me,” he coos, softly touching the side of your neck with his fingertips.
You push at his chest, leading him to the edge of the bed where he sits down when he feels the plush mattress hit the back of his knees. You stand in front of him and want to devour him. A shiver runs through you at that thought and you sit on his lap.
“Kiss me,” you plead, your heart racing against him. He wraps his arms around your waist with a grunt and pulls you even closer to his body. His hand caresses the back of your head and kisses your lips, tenderness and need filling you. You wrap your arms around him tightly and melt into his cool touch. He kisses down your cheek and onto your neck, nipping there causing an airy moan to escape from your lips.
“I wanna fuck you. I want to fuck my wife,” he growls, grinding your core on his bulge. You grumble in his neck and bite there, making him groan.
“Turn me first. Then I’ll be able to keep you up all night and fuck you how you like,” you tease. He bites his lower lip, his large hands cupping your supple breasts.
“You promise? Do you think you can take that all night? Even if you’re a vampire?” he growls. Your cheeks redden, unable to denounce his godawful seductive ways you were sure even in immortal life, you would never be able to handle normally. You sigh at the notion and you feel yourself melt into him.
“Yes, I promise you.” You moan into his mouth, going in for another kiss.
“No, let me make you feel good first. Please let me give you this and I will turn you after,” he tells you.
You don’t want to fight him over this and the way he’s looking at you with these dark and hungry eyes, you can’t say no to him. He beckons you to get closer to him and he crawls back on the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the side. You crawl in between his legs and unbutton his pants, needing to feel his naked body on yours.
He lays down on the bed and you unzip your dress, watching how he looks at you with big, needy eyes. You start to pepper kisses up his naked body, making his chest huff with anticipation. Your eyes never leave his as your mouth gets dangerously close to his cock. Your tongue licks the underside of his shaft in one long swipe and he groans in agony. You gently rub his cock in your hand and look up at him innocently.
“Let me make you feel good. Just like this,” you coo, sucking on his head, moving the rest of his length with your hand.
“Goddamn baby, no,” he commands. You stop and he pulls at your arms to make you get on top of him. You look up at him unsure what he’s doing.
“I need to take care of you, the way I want to,” he grumbles, his hand slithering up to your neck and squeezing there. “Let me take care of my wife real nice now.”
You grab onto his wrist and your eyes roll back at the pressure closed around your neck.
“You know I’ll be just as strong as you when you turn me. Enjoy getting your way with me now while I can’t put up a good fight,” you tease. He grunts at that notion and gives you his hungry stare, his eyes slowly devouring your body.
“Oh, darlin’ what makes you think you’ll want to put up a fight? Do you think you’ll be able to fight how much you want me when you’re turned? It’ll be even worse than it is now.” He smirks devilishly. You stare at him drunkenly, not imagining you could want him any more than you do now.
“Goddamn it, don’t start,” you say holding his jaw, knowing it’s going to fuel him more. You bite the inside of your cheek and feel your core flutter. Fire ignites in his eyes and he pulls by you closer to his face.
“Hmm,” he hums to himself smugly, “I’m not doing anything. I’m just stating mere facts. And by the looks of it,” he pauses and his hand finds your dripping heat, “you like the idea of wanting me more. You like the idea of having my cock ruin you hmm? Just ruining my favorite places to be inside of all night, like this one,” he says as his fingers tease through your folds and circles your entrance.
“And this one,” he coos, pressing his index finger to your lips and you can’t help but lick the pad of it.
He lets out a satisfied grumble,” Mhmm, I love it when you beg for it, ” He teases, his fingers picking up pace and gathering more of the slick that has accumulated there. You gasp at the friction he gives you and try your best to not give him the satisfaction of showing how good it feels.
“God, I know you do. You just love to hear your name screamed, don’t you? Thought you’d get enough from all the audiences screaming your name,” You hiss. In the blink of an eye, his eyes are dark and ravenous. Two of his fingers plunge into your wet heat and curl them deep inside you. You gasp at the sensation and your eyes roll back.
“I wonder if you’ll be this insolent as a vampire too? I wonder if you’ll always test me and keep having me punish you for saying such things to me,” He says as he gives your ass a swift spank. “You’re going to be exhausted at the rate you don’t listen.” He moves his fingers and twists them deeper inside you and you groan, your hips moving with his hand.
“Elvis,” you hiss at him, his fingers continuing to make you fall apart.
“That’s right honey, you can be louder if you want to, no one’s in the penthouse. Say it one more time for me, nice and loud,” he teases devilishly. You shut your eyes in agony, pleasure skyrocketing into your body and making everything else seem meaningless.
“Elvisss, please! Please,” you whimper louder.
“Let me please you, baby. Let me give you more,” he coos. Your heart races a million miles per hour and you give in. Your body stiffens and you feel your core flutter at the notion.
“Yes, I’ll let you take me however you want,” you moan.
“Mhmm, good girl. Turn around and get on me,” he commands.
You look at him unsure, if you’re understanding correctly, you’ve never done this kind of thing and it made you feel like you’re about to die. You do as you’re told though and turn around on him straddling his torso, taking his long length in your hand, getting ready to take him inside your dripping heat. You suddenly feel his hands on your hips and makes you angle them back to his face. You look over your shoulder at him in disbelief. He makes your breathing hitch and your body begins to tremble.
“That’s it, baby, just relax,” he says low. You feel his thumb swipe through your dripping heat and you whine. You felt so exposed, so naughty for doing this sort of thing. You’ve never done this! The most intimate parts of you were just in his face and there was no being modest about anything now.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he plays with you, his thumb gathering your seeping arousal.
“Fuck baby this little pussy just dripping for me? Lookin’ absolutely delicious,” he groans.
That’s when you feel his tongue start to lap through your folds, groaning deeply as he tastes you. His low grumbling sounds made you wetter by the second. God damn him and his perfect mouth. Your chest heaves and you can’t keep your eyes open as he gives you the most intense wave of pleasure. He focuses on teasing you, not staying in one particular place for too long. His hands have a firm grip on your hips, keeping you as still as possible as his mouth does the work.
You open your eyes and find his cock hard and dripping with precum in front of your face. You could barely function with his mouth on you like this but you were going to try to please him too. Your hand gathers the slick on his head and you slowly start to spread it along his length. He lets out a low grumble that sends a vibration through you and you gasp. You do this slowly and try to tease him as much as he did to you but there’s no point. He always wins the teasing game.
You lean your upper body lower and start to swirl your tongue around his head. Another deep moan comes from him and it makes your body feel limp.
His tongue works faster on you and you let more of his cock slip into your mouth. You both moan together and his hips move up very faintly with your movements. You had never experienced anything like this and it was incredibly fervid getting to get fucked by his perfect mouth and you do the same to him.
You suddenly feel his tongue enter your core and you gasp for air. Your hips can’t help but rock back into his face. It felt too good not to and after all the teasing he’s done, you needed him inside you.
“Oh God, baby yes. Oh yes, fuck me,” You pant. He responds to you with a moan as his mouth is on you, sucking on your clit and then moving his tongue back inside you.
You try to focus on him more and suck more of his length. He helps you as he moves his cock in and out of you more and your tongue does the rest. But you couldn’t last much longer, not with the way he was devouring your pussy. You can barely catch your breath and his cock was hitting the back of your throat, making the most vile noises.
He moans again and you are about to get off of him when he stops you and grabs your thighs with his hands.
“Stay on me. Turn around and come sit on my face,” he growls, his voice exhibiting an unparalleled amount of dominance. You do as you’re told and turn around, placing your knees on either side of his head. He greedily grabs your hips, sitting you down, putting his mouth back on your core. It doesn’t take long for him to make you see stars with the way he’s eating you, like it was the first time, making it all too much to handle. Your walls flutter and your body shakes on top of him. Your hips roll on his face, chasing the high of your orgasm and your hand rakes through your hair, looking up to the ceiling.
“Oh my God baby,” you cry out, gasping for breath.
He teases at your entrance, too sensitive after all this but he doesn’t care, he wants to watch you squirm on top of him. It was one of his favorite things to do. Your body keeps shaking and he looks up at you with lust lighting up his dark eyes.
He lifts you up off his face so that you’re hovering above him on your knees and he turns his face to the inside of your thigh to kiss it but groans slightly instead. The scar from where Daniel bit you was still very prominent there and you were sure it killed Elvis to look at. He groans uncomfortably the more he looks at it. You place your hand on his face, making him look up at you.
“I’m all yours, no one else's. Feed baby, right there, it’s all yours,” you pant. His hands grip on your thighs tighter and he lets out a frustrated grunt before he sinks his teeth into your scarred flesh. You gasp as his sharp fangs pierce into your fragile skin, all too close to your over-sensitive core.
You try to stifle the groan that comes out of you, the sharp pain of his fangs making you wince. He’d never fed here before, it was all so new and fragile. Maybe the scar from the previous bite made it ultra-sensitive. Either way, it was all such a new sensation, and pain spread through you.
He swallows your blood delightedly and has a grip around your thighs that makes you immovable. Small groans come from the back of his throat as he feeds, and it just about makes you want to faint. The way he sounds when he’s with you will never be something you’ll ever get tired of. It’s like he’s never touched you before. Never gotten to see you naked. Never tasted any part of you and gets to experience it for the first time.
Your legs begin to quiver and you feel your arousal spill out of you and run down your thigh. He drinks a few more gulps and slowly stops, gently taking his fangs out of you so he doesn’t tear your skin harshly. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and his tongue is back on your thigh, licking the remaining blood that is seeping out of the wound and licking up your spilled arousal. You curse at him, looking down and watching how his hungry eyes light up when he sees you panting above him.
In a flash, he has you pinned on the bed with your arms above your head and his hands firmly pinning you there. “Fuckin’ hell baby,” he grunts. You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance and you moan, already too overworked to be teased.
“Honey please,” you whimper.
He gently puts his cock all the way inside you, making you cry out his name, fucking you slow and powerfully.
“Tell me what you want,” he coos, his voice sending shivers through you, moving his hips the way only he can.
You can’t rationally speak, everything was so overwhelming and your mind couldn’t put together what you wanted to say.
“I w-want…. I- oh please honey I-,” you mutter, unable to put together any cohesive thoughts together.
His hips snap into you, powerful and claiming, making you want to see stars once again. You groan in torment, unable to focus on anything else but his hard cock fucking you into the bed.
“Come on baby girl you can say it,” growls, slowing his thrusts to let you catch your breath but still making it difficult.
“Change me, please. I’m ready,” you tell him. He lets go of your arms and covers your body in kisses, smothering you with his love. He reaches your face and kisses your lips softly, the mood of the room changing dramatically. He fucks you slow and controlled, taking his time in enjoying all of you.
He takes a sharp breath and glides his finger along the side of your neck where your scar resides. His eyes wander down to the other scars on your chest, your tummy, and the inside of your thigh that is still leaking blood. You wished he wouldn’t look there, those scars a constant reminder of what awful things were done to you. His fingers trace every outline of the bite marks left on you and he looks back up at you.
“Okay baby,” he softly murmurs. Your nails rake down his arms in fear, anticipation, and nervousness. You try to pull him close but he stays hovering above you. His eyes darken again and he licks his bottom lip. You want him closer, kissing you with passion and distract you from the pain that will ensue.
“Elvis, please,” you whimper.
“Hold onto me tight okay? Don’t let go,” he tells you. You nod your head immediately and your chest heaves looking at his sharp fangs.
“I love you,” he whimpers.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
He lets out a grunt before leaning down and kissing your neck. Sparks of electricity run through you and hold onto his back. He swivels his hips into you making you gasp for air and you turn your head to the side. A pleased groan comes from Elvis’ mouth as your neck is fully exposed to him, right where he needs to bite. You whimper in agony for him, ready to be completely his and start anew.
A deep growl comes from his throat and you feel his hand grip at your jaw, keeping you still. Your heart pounds in your ears and that's when you feel his sharp fangs pierce into your neck. You cry out, the pain rippling through you like a tidal wave. He was right, this hurt worse than any other bite. The skin here was so much more sensitive and thin, it felt like his bite was fifty sets of fangs inside you all at once. Your nails embed themselves into his back, the pain increasing with every moment he was drinking out of your neck. You hear him moaning as he’s drinking more of your blood than he ever has before. But he has to for his venom to enter your bloodstream.
You feel tears puddling from the corners of your eyes, unable to catch your breath. Your gasps and groans fill the room as Elvis is groaning, drinking from your neck in a focused manner. He pulls you up from the bed, sitting back with you sitting on him, holding you close as he swallows your blood with you two still connected.
Then you feel it; his venom. It was like wildfire burning and coursing through your veins. It made your entire body feel stiff and paralyzed. All you could manage to do was groan in agony, the pain paralyzing the rest of your senses. Your eyes started to feel the pain too and could only see large black specs in your vision. It was hurting to keep them open and each blink made it worse. Every movement you made made your body cry out in agony. Elvis was still feeding, holding the back of your head with his hand to support you. It felt like a long strain of time passed before he finally stopped and took his fangs out of you. You couldn’t see and the only thing keeping you in this moment was Elvis’ vice grip he had around your body that you were sure was going to break your bones. He doesn’t say anything and you suddenly feel both of his hands on your face. You can barely keep your head up and the searing flame burning in your eyes makes it unbearable.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, his tone scared and trembling. Your brain couldn’t compute what he meant or what he was seeing but it couldn’t have been good.
“Baby, it’s gonna be alright. I know it hurts I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he says trembling. His voice seemed so far away from you, like in another void of time. You feel his tongue lick your open wound and his hand placed on your cheek.
“You need to bite me now honey. Right now,” he demands, but to you, his voice sounds so far away and almost like an angelic whisper and you don’t move. His hand leads your head to his neck and this sweet, savory scent fills your nose. You groan in misery and press your lips to his neck. You could feel his light pulse on his neck and that sweet scent hit you again like a train. You open your mouth and let this new found instinct take over your senses. You bite down on Elvis’ neck hard and feel his normal rigid flesh give way to much more soft and supple skin. He pushes the back of your head into his neck more, encouraging you to keep going. You sink your teeth deeper into him and you taste the first taste of blood hit your tongue. It was strange at first, it didn’t taste like much and almost tasted metallic. Then you start to suck more and that’s when it hit you; the most savory and decadent thing you’ve ever put on your lips. His blood ran down your throat and your body thanked you for it. You were still weak but it felt good to drink from his neck. You had enough strength to pull yourself closer to him and feed more. You faintly hear him moan, clutching to your body and breathing heavily. Your hunger worsens and you drink bigger gulps, you have never felt hunger like this. This ravenous appetite Elvis would describe to you was very much real and worse than you realized. But your head throbbed and your eyes still burned, unable to see anything.
You take your mouth off his neck and gasp for air. Everything felt like it was on fire and you didn’t know what to do. Your body went limp and your hearing went out.
Black.
*
Your eyes flutter open and the air is still, almost too still. You look at the white ceiling and it feels like you’re looking at it through a magnifying lens. You saw every single texture and line that went through the ceiling and it confused you. Your eyes shift to somewhere else and a piece of lint floats into your vision. You were able to discern every wave and bend of the fiber it was bizarre.
“Hey darlin’,” a smooth baritone voice whispers at the other end of the room.
You slowly sit up in the bed and see Elvis sitting in a chair in the corner with sunglasses on and a silk shirt unbuttoned.
You take a deep breath through your nose and the most heavenly scent fills your head. It was mouth-watering good. It was sweet and savory, warm and delicious with each breath you took. Breathing felt peculiar, almost like it wasn’t needed.
Your hands move on the sheets and you can feel the softness of them through every thread. A robe was wrapped around you and tied at your waist. The silk fabric felt nice around you and smelled just as great as the room.
Your legs swivel to the edge of the bed and slowly gain your bearings. Elvis gets up and cautiously walks to you. Everything felt off and way too sensitive. The plush carpet was grainy and soft at the same time. It went in between your toes and made it tickle.
You look up at Elvis and your breath nearly gets sucked out of you.
You’ve never seen such a beautiful man in your life.
Every single detail was perfect. His hair, his nose, his pouty lips.
All of it.
It was like you saw him for the first time and it makes you feel entranced. He changed from the last memory you had of him. He had a brighter glow about him, his hair shorter, and his face looked more flawless if that’s even possible.
You raise your hand to touch his face and the warmth of his skin radiates through you. His skin felt perfect and near obsessional. There wasn’t a flaw on his face and you never felt so in awe. You place your other hand on his chest and the course little hairs that resided there felt nice underneath your fingertips. And then it hits you; you can feel his warmth. He’s not cold and instead melts into your touch.
He places his hand on the back of your head to have you look at him. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at you lovingly.
“Hi beautiful, I missed you,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you. God those lips were perfection, devouring yours with intense need and the utmost importance. You sigh softly into him, loving how incredible he feels. He pulls away to look you over again, and bites his bottom lip slowly, making it pop.
“Jesus, you’re perfect. How was it possible for you to become even more beautiful…” he says dazed. You smirk at him and shake your head. “Come here, you need to look at yourself,” he says, leading you over to the large mirror in the corner of the room.
He holds your hand as he leads you over but you couldn’t care how you looked right now. All you wanted to do was study every detail of his face because you felt like you’d never seen him like this before. Stunning and perfect in every way. Elvis steps behind you and turns you around toward the mirror. You slowly turn your focus to your reflection and cock your head in confusion. You barely recognize yourself and look up at Elvis in the mirror.
You stare back at your golden, gleaming eyes and your long fanning lashes. You were in shock by what you were seeing, you had almost prepared yourself to see red eyes whenever you thought of changing into a vampire. The golden hue was like sunlight; bright, warm, and full of life. Your hair’s natural waves became more defined and the auburn color was vibrant and lustrous. Your skin was also smooth and pale like his and all your senses felt heightened. Every breath you took was intense and you rubbed your thumb against his hand and felt the hairs that were there.
The robe you’re wearing is not tightly tied around your waist so it exposes your chest and neck. As you look closer, you realize the scars from the bite marks are gone, and all that’s left behind is glass-smooth skin. Elvis’ hand is around your torso, melting into you and making you realize this is all real and not some delusion.
You twist your body around to face him and don’t know where to begin.
“What happened? Why are m-my eyes…” you trail off. He starts to take off his sunglasses and chuckles softly, looking down at the ground. He shoots his gaze back up to you and you gasp.
The same golden eyes stare back at you and look even more beautiful. You caress his face, lightly rubbing your thumb across his cheek.
“Oh my God, they’re stunning honey. God, how can you look better than before? What- What does this mean? Is this normal?” You ask.
He smiles at you as he tries to soothe your worries away.
“Shh baby it’s okay. I think it's because… we’re one. In heart and soul, we are one.” He smiles.
•
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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s
Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 15.5k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak
After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.
Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.
a/n: this chapter gets me right in the feels every time. I love watching the way Joels character changes and his train of thought shifts. I hope you guys like this chapter because it was so fun for me to write 🥹❄️
Masterlink
Chapter 3: Blue
As it turns out, extreme levels of dopamine in his brain after a bone chilling orgasm is exactly what Joel needs to level himself out while you’re sitting beside him in the passenger seat. It doesn’t make him stop thinking about it, but it does keep the tiny little gremlin in his head that tells him to pop a stiffy at bay. The only thing he has to worry about is his eyes, keeping them off of you and on the icy driveway as he pulls away from the house. The snow has started to melt, leaving behind a sloppy mud that makes the truck slip and slide. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get your car out, even if I can I don’t think you’ll be able to drive it in this.”
You make an exaggerated groan and he doesn’t even need to look to know you’re rolling your eyes at him from your spot beside him on the bench seat. “You just love deciding what I can and can’t do, don’t you? You know I lived here my whole life right?” He dares a glance over and you’re staring at him with your eyebrows knitted together and your arms crossed. His eyes tick down and he wants to kick himself in the head for even looking because your shirt is leaving nothing to his imagination and little to wonder about how good they would look bare with his dick between—jesus christ, Joel, get yourself together Man. “I wasn’t doubting your ability, I’m suggesting that it would be dangerous for you to even try.”
The truck hits the pavement and most of the snow has melted, but the freezing temperatures leave a icy film across the top. He had to go easy on the breaks and hope to god the truck makes it up the inclines he has to take to get to your car. The last thing he needs is to be stuck out here in the cold with just your bodies to keep each other warm. He absolutely one hundred and ten percent wont survive that, not without absolutely humiliating himself. God, he fucking hates how much you affect him against his will.
“Since when do you care about what’s too dangerous for me, huh?” Why in the hell is he arguing with you like you’ve been married for twenty years? “You left me in the snow to freeze to death in my car four days ago, why am I going to listen to you about whats too dangerous for me?” You have a point, but so does he so he just shuts his fucking mouth and keeps on driving.
It takes twice as much time to get down the pass than it usually does, but the lower Joel gets, the more the ice melts into cold water and mud. By the time he gets to your car, the road is clear but the car is still sunk down to the rims in the embankment. Theres a uneasy sort of silence in the truck, something lingering around the cab of the old blue pickup that feels like shame and embarrassment.
“Texting, huh?” He breaks the silence with a crude joke that earns him a deep glare. “Fuck you, asshole. You know, I really don’t know what it is that my parents see in you. My mom always said how polite you were but I don’t believe that for a second after knowing you for a few days.” You prop open the door and climb out into the snow with your car keys in one hand and the other holding your unzipped jacket closed. Your stupid fucking shoes and that tight ass—fuck.
How is he supposed to be okay with the way you make his body react when you literally curse the ground he walks on, thinking he’s the worst thing that ever happened to this damn town? He gets out after you and slips on his gloves to keep the cold off his hands. The winter always leaves him cracked and brittle from cold work, sometimes his knuckles bleed and his bones ache for gentle hands instead of hard callouses and a cowboys scars. “You don’t know anything about me.” He reaches into the back for a chain while you open the door to your car. “I know enough. I know you’re bullheaded and selfish. I know you’re rude and you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Fucking bitch, like he’s not allowed to have some self preservation after the life he’s lived, always cleaning up Tommy's mess and abandoning his own life in the process. “Don’t act like you’re any better.” You lean out of your car and make a face at him while he hooks the chain to the front of the truck. “Me? You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Like you didn’t just spout off about all the things you think is wrong with him—he can do that too. He has a fucking list of reasons you piss him off. “I know that you’re entitled and expect people to be at your beck and call. I know you’re privileged with no regard for anyone around you.”
He follows the chain to your car and hooks it to the chassis underneath. “Well were just a match made in fucking heaven then, aren’t we?” Its dripping with distain and bitterness, so Joel ignores the comment no matter how much his brain runs and runs about all the way he could be made for you, the way’s he’d fuck that attitude right out of you until you’re quiet. But he can’t and he won’t, he’ll probably spend the rest of his life wondering what you’d feel like, the way you’d shake and scream and beg for more—but wondering is far as that fantasy will ever go.
Because at the end of the day, you’re still Hank's daughter and you’re still half his age and—you hate his guts, which is definitely a deal breaker when it comes to getting someone in your bed. So he keeps his mouth shut and heads back to his truck to tug your car out. “When you’re out, hit your brakes so you don't slam into me.” You sink down into your seat and glare at him. “I’m not stupid!” He never said you were, but he doesn’t expect you to know everything, so he does his best to be the helpful asshole he usually is.
He pulls the little car out, manages to keep the chain tight until it's back on the road and the brake lights come on in front of him. He puts the truck in park and hops out to unhook the chain, but you don’t open the door. When the car is unhooked, you’re already pulling away without a word of thanks. Joel knows he’s well past earning the way you treat him, but that doesn’t make him stop wishing he could just get you out of his head already, wish he could hate you with that same mind altering disgust that you have for him, maybe watching you drive away would be easier.
Two months pass much like the first week. Joel keeps to himself, you frown at him and avoid him where you can. When you do see one another, Joel feels like you’re always at each other's throats. Everyone in the house has started to notice the distaste in your strained relationship, if Joel is willing to let himself call it that. It’s more like a forced acquaintance. Either way, your parents even see the way the two of you bicker and fight, but rarely does anyone but Tommy make comments about it. Tommy likes to bring it up any chance he gets, usually when Joel is alone just to rile him up further. He says stupid shit, like “I bet the sex you guys would have would be crazy good” when it’s just him and his brother at the dinner table and it makes Joel stiffen and run off to the cabin without his plate or a goodbye.
He sneaks in later for his plate and catches you in the kitchen with red eyes and tear stained cheeks, but you cross your arms over your chest and try not to meet his eyes. You’re dressed in just a big tee shirt and he can see from your bare feet to the tops of your thighs. He’s the luckiest son of s bitch in the world that he just worked himself over twice because he would be tenting his sweatpants right there in the kitchen.
That was three days ago and he still can’t get the sight of tears in your eyes out of his mind. He wonders if he did that, if he’d said something that struck a nerve and there you sat at the kitchen table after everyone was tucked in bed, crying your pretty eyes out. He feels like the worst fucking person in the world because of it, so he stays away even more, makes himself sad little ramen noodle dinners in his sad little hunting cabin he shares with his brother and he stares at his ceiling wishing it was you he was looking up at—smiling instead of frowning for once—all he wants is to see you smile. Really smile, for him, at him. He wonders what your eyes look up when they light up, wonders what your skin feels like when its not shaking in rage.
But between all the avoiding and hiding, Joel didn’t even realize how quickly Christmas had snuck up on him. He checks his phone sometime after lunch, his day spent getting the herd ready for another brutal snow storm. He’d been to town that morning for hot feed to keep them warm and any supplies they might run out of while snowed in, while deep, dark clouds hung in the distance. He was leaving the feed store when the clerk waved at him with a polite “Merry Christmas!” When he made it into the truck, he pulled out his phone and realized the date, December 24th. It was Christmas eve and it was an absolute miracle that stores were open right now. It was only eleven thirty and the sign posted on the door says it closes at two.
He starts to put the truck in reverse, turning around to look behind him while he pulls out. When he does, something inside of him doesn’t let his foot off the brakes. He thinks about you—in Christmas pajamas on the floor opening dumb little gifts from your parents because it's the first Christmas they’ve had with you for years. He imagines what they’d get you, probably things a grown adult needs—products, socks, underwear, (don’t even go there Joel) and he thinks about how disheartening that must be to a woman like you, used to proper city living now, expensive gifts and pretty things. You deserve pretty things, Joel wants to give them to you.
He turns around, throws the truck in park and jumps out, heading back into the feed store. He makes a bee-line for the glass jewelry case sitting in the corner, partially scavenged through since it is the day before christmas and all—he should have thought about this weeks ago. He scans through everything, shiny horse shoe earrings, matching pendants, jeweled cowgirl boots on a chain and turquoise ring sets. None of them look good enough, none of them scream you, sweet you—fuck, he’s seen it, when you’re so damn sweet, when you think no one is looking—Joel is, always looking.
He kneels down, scanning the bottom shelf of the case when he spots a simple golden chain and a bumble bee dangling delicately from its tiny hoops. It doesn’t have any stones on it and Joel thinks he likes that more, that it’s simple and graceful, not too flashy or obviously shoutings “look at what you do to me, look at how much I wish I could have you.”
In the end, he has just enough bills in his wallet for the necklace, tells the clerk he doesn’t need a bag as he stuffs the box in his pocket and heads back to the truck.
He has a busy day when he gets back to ranch, Tommy is checking on the pregnant heifers while Joel fill’s multiple feeders with hot grains that will keep them warm through the impending storm. He has just enough time before it starts to snow to get the horse fed and the equipment properly covered in tarps. This storm is set to drop more snow than they have seen all winter and Joel doesn’t look forward to the animosity that comes with never being able to get out of each other's hair. “How’s the heifers?” He asks Tommy when he brushes grain off his hands. “They all seem pretty far out besides one, she was really soft, sort of worried me.” Heifers get soft around the tail when they are close to caving, but Joel doesn’t think she’ll be willing to have her calf in this storm, so he lets it go. Instead, he takes a spot beside Tommy at the stable door.
“Snow’s comin’ down thick now,” Tommy says from the protective covering of the stable, staring out across the yard at the powder covered ground. Snow blows through the big sliding door, filling the building with cold gusts. “We should get inside before it gets worse.”
Joel wants to—when he looks off at the two story house, the christmas tree shining through the window, he spots you on the other side of it, fixing and ornament hanging from the nettles. The stable is a stone's throw from the house, Joel can see every feature, the color of your eyes, your sweet, sweet smile—because he’s nowhere to be seen.
He’s so busy staring, he doesn’t catch it in time when your eyes meet his across the yard. That sweet smile falls, those soft eyes harden and he feels his gut lurch. “You go ahead, Tommy. Think I’m going to hit the hay.” Tommy knows this bit just about as well as Joel does, knows he’s been avoiding the house, your parents, you because nine times out of ten, it’s just Tommy at dinner these days. Joel spends his night with microwaved meals and old episodes of The Rifleman to keep him busy until he finally gives in and slips his hands in his pants.
Tommy doesn’t put up a fuss, instead, he claps Joel on the shoulder and gives him this sad sort of smile before heading off towards the house. Joel turns in the other direction, follows the fence line for a half mile until he reaches the cabin. His feet are cold, his lips feel cracked after a long day outside in the harsh weather. He microwaves a sad little dinner, pretends the mac and cheese on the side is half as good as warm food at the table when the people he looks at like family. He’s simply not welcome there anymore.
He gets through two episodes before he promptly passes out, his pants left intact tonight because it’s not his dick leading the way tonight, its that look in your eyes when you saw him across the driveway. The pang he felt in his chest when you frowned and turned away like it hurt you to look at him.
He sleeps through the night, propped up like that on the couch and when he wakes on Christmas morning, his neck has a crick in it and his back is killing him. He barely drags himself off the couch and into the shower before his day has to start. The hot water eases out some of his muscles, but it still hurts like a bitch to stand up straight or turn his head.
But the cattle aren’t going to let him take a day off, the horses won't care for themselves, so he gets to it only a few minutes late. When he heads out the door, the ground is covered in two feet of pure white snow and dark clouds still hang overhead.
His Christmas is spent in the field’s and the stables and the box in his pocket burns a hole through his thigh the entire morning, until he’s shoveling off the driveway and the front door comes open. Louise makes her way onto the porch with a plate in her hands, shuffling down the slippery steps when she gets Joel’s attention. He tosses down the shovel and hurries over when she starts to wobble on the second step and nearly slips. He catches her arm and helps her steady before letting out a cold gust of air that fogs through the chill around him. “Miss Lou, what are you doin’ out here? It’s freezing.” She has a light coat on and her cheeks are red from the cold.
“You’re the one out here in the cold, Joel. It’s Christmas and you’re the only one working. Have you had a decent meal this week? I haven’t seen you at dinner in…well, I don’t know how long.” She’s the one reason Joel feels guilty for avoiding the house, in the years he’s lived here, she's always enjoyed cooking for them, she’d always tell him he couldn’t keep her dream alive if he was malnourished. He feels like that now, running on half the calories a man his size should be taking in and his mind is in a constant state of despair these days.
“Just needed some space is all, Ma’am, nothin’ you did.” He assures her, taking the plate carefully and helping her back up the steps. “I know it's not just that. My daughter can be really difficult sometimes…I know you two bicker. It’s a shame, really—I thought the two of you would hit it off.” That's the whole problem and what a shame it is that Joel can’t look at this woman’s daughter without thinking about all the ways he could have her, make her his. “Would you come inside? Hank and I got you something, he thought you would be in this morning but you never came. I'm sorry if your food is cold.”
He didn’t care if it was cold, his stomach hurt because he was so hungry, he'd eat it if it was frozen. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her no, so he heads inside the house with snow covered boots and a nervousness he hasn’t felt here since the first day he stood in this living room. For so long it's felt like his home too—but now he can't help but feel like an intruder.
When he closes the door behind him, Hank and Tommy are watching the game, but you’re nowhere in sight. He tries to shake off his nerves, moves to the couch beside Tommy and sits down. At his brother's feet is a brand new pair of deer skin gloves, Tommy’s favorite—but hard to come by. He knows they weren’t cheap and his heart aches a little, knowing they’d worked hard to pull together the money.
“Glad to see you can pull yourself away for a few minutes. You know it ain’t goin’ anywhere, stay for a little while.” He knows that—the storm will be with them for four days and he knows there will be more snow to shovel tomorrow, but he can’t stay for long, not when your prying eyes finally detect him in your safe haven. “I’ll stay for a little while, still a lot to do out there.” He knows Hank is too old for that kind of work, Tommy’s too lazy and Joel wants nothing more than to escape. “Got you somethin’, been saving up for it for a while now.” He leans down towards the tree and picks up a rather large box—it’s not gloves thats for damn sure. “Sir, I…I didn’t get you nothin’.” He didn’t have the money, he spent every dollar he had to his name on a stupid necklace for his daughter that would rather see him outside in the freezing weather shoveling snow than on her couch in front of the fireplace.
Hank throws a hand, playing off Joel's concern with an amused huff. “You do so much for us around here without asking for anything in return. You had one when you got here but i know it got tore up taking the cattle to pasture.”
Joel rips the wrapping paper, revealing a simple white box with the word Stetson on the top. Joel doesn’t even want to open the damn thing, he knows what's inside and how much it cost, an arm and a leg, probably a month's saving in the off season. “Hank…”
The olde man shakes his head firmly. “You deserve to have the sun off your neck, son. Just say thank you, make sure it fits.”
He pulls open the box and inside lays a black felt hat with a matching band, beautiful leather work that loops into an ornate metal buckle to hold it in place. He pulls the cowboy hat from its box, puts it on his head and—it’s a perfect fit.
It's been a long time since he had a hat, a lot longer since he had a nice one and a lifetime ago since he had the money for a new one, especially one this nice. “I don’t know what to say—thank you, Hank…this really…means more than you know.” More than he knows how to convey with words. It’s been a long time since Joel had a hat that fit, one that wasn’t second hand or made for someone else’s head. But this—this was made for his head, the measurement must be damn near perfect. “How’d you know my size?” He wobbles his head around and the hat doesn’t budge, hangs on snuggly. He’ll even be able to ride with this on. “I measured your head while you were sleepin’.” Tommy tells him with a smug grin. “That's weird, Tommy. I would have kept that to myself.”
It draws a laugh out of Hank who has abandoned the game in favor of watching Joel's excitement. “Well, what are you waiting for—go check yourself out in the mirror, make sure you like it,” he stands and walks over to the mirror hanging on the wall above a decorative entryway shelf. When he spots himself in the reflection, he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s seen the man looking back at him. He’s graying in his beard a little, the age lines on his face have gotten deeper and more pronounced, but the black hat on his head makes that same man grin from ear to ear.
The stairs creek behind him and he turns half of his body to look up them. Stopped halfway down the stairs, you’re staring at him with a slightly slacked jaw. Joel knew it, Christmas jammies that leave your legs exposed to his greedy eyes. This time, he tries to keep them to himself. “Oh, uh…” he swallows down the lump in his throat and his pocket burns all over again. Should he give it to you now? Will everyone question him if he does? If he waits to get you alone, does that suggest that the necklace means everything he wants it to? A peace offering, an ice breaker, a “I’m sorry about the way I’ve treated you, but I want to try again.”
Instead, he leaves it in his pocket and tries to tamper down the way his cheeks heat. “Merry Christmas, Honey.” He tilts his hat up a tad so he can look up at you, but your slightly dumbfounded look morphs into irritation and discontent.
“What are you doing here?” You cross your arms and Joel’s good mood disappears. “Your mom asked me to come in and eat. Your dad wanted to give me this.” He points to the hat and your eyes roll as you make the descent down the rest of the stairs. “So if you’re in here, who’s taking care of the ranch?”
It isn’t often that someone sticks up for one of them in an argument, they tend to not get between the two of you, but to Joel’s surprise, Hank interrupts his daughter. “He’s allowed to come in the house, Honey—he works hard around here, he’s not a yard dog.” But that doesn’t stop you from sneering at him when you pass him on your way to the kitchen where your mother is. “Sure looks like one to me.” It’s under your breath so Hank doesn’t hear, but Joel does.
And he feels like a fool. A fool for spending the last of his money on this stupid fucking necklace, like a fool for being so plagued by thoughts of you in a different world, one where you don’t innately hate him, one where he doesn’t fuck up every chance he has to change the narrative.
“I should get back to it, I’ll see you guys…later.” He starts to head for the door when Louise pokes her head around the corner. “Please come in for Dinner!” Joel tells her that he will, he hates lying to miss Lou, but he does it because it’s Christmas and the last thing he wants to do is worry her today.
He wastes the day shoveling off the driveway, tries his best to rub out the crick in his neck and finally calls it a day when the sun is nearly set and the animals are bunkered down for the night. It’s started to snow again, so Joel makes his way back to the cabin with tired limbs and a new dusting of snow hanging onto the brim of his hat.
Dinner is just as lonely as the night before but this time he doesn’t pretend it's Lou’s cooking, he lets it be exactly what it is—a tasteless mush and his misery to sip on.
The Rifleman is just as predictable as it was the night before, as is Joel—who falls asleep before he has the heart to get his hands on his dick. But unlike last night, he doesn’t make it long propped up on the couch before a knock startles him awake. He drags himself to the door with sleep in his eyes and a chill in his bones. When he pulls it open, his pocket ignites again. On the other side of the door, you’re standing in front of him with a plate in your hands and a vicious storm letting down behind you. Did you walk here in that? “My mom said I chased you off, that’s why you didn’t come to dinner.” Well, you aren’t wrong. If you were still away at college, Joel would have no problem spending Christmas with Hank and Louise and Tommy who is apparently too good to walk you down here.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything.” He says. He glances to the side where his hat hangs on the rack. “Actually, my mom made me so no, I didn’t have a choice.” Ahh, of course—of course you wouldn’t do something that nice for him. “Well, thank her for me, then…” he reaches out for the plate and his fingers brush yours—bolts of electricity shooting up his arm and igniting his starved skin. It’s been so damn long since someone has touched him with kind hands and all he wants is yours—your soft, gentle hands he’s seen folding laundry and soothing horses. You don’t release the plate, but your eyes track up to his, meeting them across the threshold.
He could hold that gaze for the rest of his life if you’d let him—he’s always wanted a chance to get lost in your eyes and he’s getting it right now, his home pouring with cold in exchange for the heat in your cheeks and the sparkle in your irises. “Joel—“
There's a loud sound somewhere over the fence beside the cabin. It draws both of your attention to the blinding darkness. Joel knows that sound, a distressed heifer, probably the one who was too damn close to calving in a storm like this. There’s no way Joel can save that calf if it doesn’t make it and even if he wanted to, the snow is too thick to help.
“What is that?” You ask, finally dropping your hand away from his when you glance back up at him. “Heifer, think she’s calving—Tommy said she was really soft and her milk came in. Afraid that calf might not make it tonight.”
There's a look of disbelief in your eyes, shooting from Joel to the fence line and back. “You can’t help her?” Joel shakes his head and listens to the cow cry out again. “Nothin’ I can do for her. They aren’t supposed to be calving yet, we still have a few more weeks and it’s too cold out there. We might lose the heifer too.”
Joel observes the way sadness takes over your face, then determination. “I’m going out there to help her.” You tell him, already heading off the porch before Joel can even interject. “Don’t you hear me? She’s not going to make it, honey, just let it go.” But you don’t, you start to jog towards the fence line, so Joel huffs in annoyance and slips into his boots and jacket, finally pulling his hat on on his way out the door. He grabs a spotlight off the shelf by the door and follows your tracks through the snow to the fence line. It doesn’t take him long until he finds you, knelt behind a laboring cow, who’s already pushing in the freezing cold. “I can’t get this calf to safety and this storm is getting worse—it’s not safe to be out here.”
There's blood marring the white snow and your delicate hands. “I’m not letting her die in the snow on christmas because we made her have a baby, Joel—she didn’t ask for this.” Joel sets the light in the snow beside him and rolls his sleeves up, kneeling down beside you in the soaked snow. “She’s not going to make it.”
You make a face at him, one Joel is more than accustomed to. “I’m not letting her die alone, then.” And Joel isn’t going to leave you alone in the snow for a second time, so he stays there beside you, helping deliver the little black calf, who shivers wetly in the cold. It’s a little boy, floppy ears and a wobble to him when he tries to hold his head up. Joel can't help but smile, because this is always beautiful, even if he can't save this little calf. He looks up and you’re grinning right back at him, your cheeks bitten red by the cold and your hands shaking, but you look so fucking proud right now. Joel is too, after watching you pull that calf out of his momma like you were made for that.
“What if we get them inside, would they make it then?” Joel doesn’t see how, the snow is too thick and someone would have to carry him. “They wont fit in my cabin and the stable is a half a mile away. We’d have to drag momma through this snow.” He has a lead in the cabin, he could get her out of this snow, he thinks. Would she even want to go, after having a calf in the ridged cold. “We should try—we should at least try.”
Joel leans back and brushes the blood off on his pants. “Yeah—fine, we can try. Stay right here, keep rubbing him to keep him warm.” He stands and jogs back to the cabin, racing inside for the lead that he runs back to you with. You have the calf laid out along your legs while you rub his wet skin. “He’s slowing down. I can feel his heart slowing down.” He’s getting too cold out here—if Joel doesn’t act now, he won't make it, so he wraps the halter around the heifers head and hands you the lead. “Think you can pull her? She’s going to put up a fight.” You take the lead from him and nod, grabbing the light out of the snow while he picks the calf up under his belly. He makes a little sound at Joel while he starts to make his way through the deep snow.
It’s a long walk back to the stables, but you tug on that heifer and Joel carries the calf the entire way there, until he reaches the gate and manages to push it open just enough to get them through. He makes it to the stable doors in just enough time, throws it open and helps you inside. It’s not much warmer in here, but theres no snow and theres straw in the empty stable towards the back, so Joel makes his way over and lays the little calf down in the bedding. You’re right behind him with the heifer who takes straight to her baby once she has him in her sight again.
Joel plops down in the straw in the corner of the room once they are both situated, trying to catch his breath and warm himself up at the same time. He’s covered in blood, so are you, but you saved both of their lives and Joel has more respect for that than he knows what to do with. You risked your life out there for a baby cow and his momma.
“You did a good thing, out there. I’m sorry I didn’t want to listen to you.” You find a spot beside him in the hay and sink down, leaned against the wood wall with your shoulder pressed against his with how closely you sit. “You have every right to question me…you’re right, you know…I have no clue what I’m doing around here. Four years of school and the only thing I know how to do around here is the books, which is easy because were so broke.” Joel's heart aches for you, the sadness in your tone and the defeated look in your eyes. “I almost got us killed out there.”
Joel shakes his head and leans himself back against the wall too. “But you didn’t. You saved us a lot of money and saved his little life. I’d say that's a win.” He knows it doesn’t feel like one when everything else is coming down on your shoulders, but he can pretend it is for your sake. “Thanks, Joel.” You lean a little more, bumping his shoulder with a quiet yawn.
His pocket begins to burn again, but this time, it isn’t followed by the shame he’s felt all day. “I uhm…I hope it’s not weird, but I got you something…” he reaches into his pocket and starts to fish it out. “You didn’t have to do that,” you interject but he shakes his head. “I just saw it while I was at the feed store, thought of you.” He pulls out the blue box and holds it out to you. He tries not to read too much into the look on your face when you open the box, but he has to know. It looks like confusion, then shock and finally, sadness. “I was really rude to you this mornin’…and you had this in your pocket to give it to me?” You look over at him with big eyes, full of something Joel has never seen in them. “It’s alright—I deserved that.”
You shake your head and start to pull the necklace out of the box. “I called you a dog, Joel—you didn’t deserve that.”
He shrugs his shoulders, trying to rid both of you of the shame of that conversation. You hold the necklace up and admire it for a while, the little gold bee that’s going to lay against your chest, against your heart. You hold it out to him with a little quick of your lips. “Would you?” He takes it from you and you turn your back to him, using one hand to hold up your hair while he undoes the clasp and brings his hands around your neck, laying it around your delicate throat. It feels so intimate, sitting here in the hay beside a newborn baby calf in the middle of a snowstorm on christmas.
His knuckles brush against your neck gently when he does the clasp together, letting is hang from your neck, feels like a fucking brand on his skin. You turn back around, meet his eyes and smile carefully. There's a comfortable silence filling up the space between you, so Joel leans back against the wood and sighs to himself. “Let me walk you back to the house…it’s getting late.” His words are low and slow.
You nod at him and he stands, holding out a hand to pull you to your feet. He walks you out of the stables, through the blizzard and up to the porch of the big white house. “Where are you going?” You ask him when you get to the door. “Don’t know if I can make it back to the cabin in this. Might sleep out in the stable so I can keep an eye on the little guy.”
You don’t say anything, just stare at him for a long moment, then glance behind you at the warm house. “Come inside…Tommy took the guest bedroom but you can have the couch. It’s better than being out here in the cold.”
He wants to decline, but when will he get this opportunity again? To mend what's been broken between you? “Yeah—sure, that sounds better than straw poking me in the ass all night long.”
It makes you giggle and that makes Joel's stomach churn, his cheeks heat and his hands flex as he follows you inside. You get him a blanket, help him get situated in the low glow of the christmas tree in the corner.
When he kicks his boots off and settles down on the couch, you start to head for the stairs. He thinks you’re going to head up, but you pause at the bottom of the stairs before turning to look at him. “Thank you for helping me today.”
He hums, smiles and shakes his head. “It was my pleasure.”
There's another long silence, then you take the first step up the stairs. “Goodnight, Joel…Merry Christmas.”
He smiles back at you with tired eyes.
“Merry Christmas, Honey.”
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel the last of us#cowboy joel#pedro pascal fanfic
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Can you do something like comforting Jude after losing the league
WC: 2.0k
It's been an up and down season but it has all come down to the last game. For Dortmund to win the title they really need to win this game as otherwise it's out of their hands. I believe in the team but I must admit I'm quite nervous for the game as it's a lot of pressure and Bayern always seem to pull out results when they need them. As much as I'm nervous I've been trying to keep those feelings suppressed and seem calm on the outside as I know Jude is way more nervous than I am and I want to try and keep him as calm as possible. All day he's been pacing around the house completely in his own world which I understand but I wish he would just sit down and talk to me so I can maybe help calm him down.
Jude so desperately wants the team to win the title as it would mean so much to the club and he would love to win with them before moving on to another team. Knowing that he's injured and can't play I don't think is helping as he's just going to have to watch everything from the bench hoping the team can do it without him. It's the worst possible time for Jude to be out and I know he's beating himself up over it as he's been playing while not fully fit and that's put him out at a vital point of the season. Jude has been so important for the team this year but they can do it without him and they will have to.
He left before me to get to the stadium early with the team like always but I too left early as I couldn't bare to sit around at home anymore and I wanted to see Jude before the game kicked off. When I arrived I made it in easily as the security know who I am so they let me in no problem and I headed towards the locker room while texting Jude to get him to come out. He was waiting for me outside by the time I made it up the corridor and when he saw me he put his arms out which I ran into to give him the hug he clearly wanted. Jude has never held me so tightly which told me all I needed to know about how he was feeling without even asking. I let him hold onto me for as long as he wanted before pulling away and giving him some last words of encouragement and some kisses that I hoped would make him feel at least a little bit better.
The game had not long started when news came that Bayern had scored and were already 1-0 up meaning the team had to win if they wanted to keep first place. It only got worse a few minutes later when the team conceded a goal but luckily the fans still seemed hopeful and kept cheering which motivated the team. Things got worse with dortmund conceding another goal before half time but afterwards things got slightly better with them getting one back. While all of this was going on I was watching Jude sat on the bench biting his nails which I've only seen him do before his first game at the World Cup so I knew he was incredibly nervous. I sat with my fingers crossed so tightly it was hurting but I didn't care it would be worth it if they won. Soon everyone's prayers were answered when it was announced that it was now a draw in the Bayern game. The fans went crazy and the belief that this could be the year was felt by everyone but you could tell there was still nerves in the air as anything could happen.
As the clock ticked on the excitement was only building in the stadium that was until everyone spirit was crushed. Bayern and Musiala got a last minute goal putting them back ahead and giving them the title. The fans tried to keep believing but it was clear that despite a miracle there was no way they were going to win the title this year. The atmosphere changed so quickly from excitement to pure despair that yet again the team were second best. Just before the end of the game a consolation prize in the form of an equaliser came but it wasn't enough although they were on the same points Bayerns goal difference was better giving them the title. It was hard to believe it until the final whistle came but then it really sunk in as I watched all the players drop to the floor.
I was mostly in shock until I saw Jude sit down on the pitch with tears in his eyes seeing him so upset just broke me and I couldn’t stop tears leaving my own eyes. It was so hard to watch Jude so upset but I knew that he needed me so I wiped the tears from my eyes and did my best to stay strong. As soon as I was allowed I ran onto the pitch and straight to Jude to sit down on the pitch next to him. I took hold of his hand to let him know I was there and because I didn't want to smother him if he just wanted to sit and be alone. He clearly wanted some comfort as he rested his head on my shoulder so I held him while he cried into my neck. After a while I got him to look up and wiped the tears from his face but they were quickly replaced my new ones.
"I'm sorry I know how much you wanted it but you did all you could you have worked so hard all season" I said
"But we could've done better just one more win at some point this season would have been enough even a draw" he said
"If it were that easy you guys would have got those results in the first place it just wasn't meant to be but that doesn't take away from everything you have achieved this season" I said
"You're right it just hurts that we lost it so late on" he admitted
"Don't think of it that way think about how you pushed until the very last seconds" I said trying to cheer him up
He simply nodded his head and got up from the ground to go and talk with his teammates and thank the fans. He pulled me up with him and we walked around together still hand in hand like we have been since I sat down with him. Of course there were lots of cameras around which I was very aware of as I tried to stop them filming Jude as much as I could. As we walked around Jude noticed one camera that was coming towards us and he put his hand over the lens and pushed the camera away a bit. I mouthed an apology as we continued walking because I didn't want for people to hate on Jude for doing that but I didn't really mean it as they shouldn’t have been trying to film him in this moment. It was clear that it was hard for him to try and thank the fans but he still did it as the team would be nowhere without the fans and he really does appreciate them.
The entire team stayed out on the pitch for quite a while but eventually they headed inside to shower and change and I went back to the car to wait for Jude. While waiting I got my phone set up with a playlist of his favourite songs as that sometimes helps cheer him up although I don't think it will work in this situation it's worth trying. I also ordered some of his favourite food as I don't want to cook and I thought he would enjoy it especially now he doesn't have to be quite so strict with his diet. Just as I ordered the food the door of the car opened and Jude put his bag in the back before getting into the passenger seat. He looked so defeated but he still gave me a smile and a kiss on my cheek.
When we made it home Jude went upstairs to change into comfier clothes and I collected the food so it was ready for us to eat as soon as he came back down. We ate and then I laid down on the sofa and encouraged Jude to lay on top of me which he did straight away and cuddled as close as he could to me. I played with his hair with one hand as while he held the other twisting my rings which he always likes to do with his favourite being the promise ring he gave to me on our anniversary as it has an engraving on the bottom of the band. He hummed as I continued to scratch his head and he even had a real smile on his face which made me happy as I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get him to smile for a few days.
As he was smiling I wanted to take advantage of it so I stopped playing with his hair and started tickling him which had him laughing and trying to get away from me in seconds. He hates being tickled but it always makes him laugh in a way that just fills me with so much joy. I was planning to tickle him for a bit and then stop when he seemed like he'd had enough but all of a sudden he flipped the both of us over and started tickling me instead. I'm extremely ticklish so every second was torture but Jude was happy so I let him torture me for a while. It felt like an eternity but eventually he stopped tickling me and left me resting on his chest where he instead started assaulting my face with kisses. Seeing Jude happy again was such a relief I remember after the World Cup he was feeling down for weeks and I didn’t want that to happen again as it was a tough time for both of us.
At some point we both settled down and there was silence again as this time I laid on Jude’s chest as he brushed through my hair with his hands. It was quite obvious that the longer we were in silence the more Jude’s mind was able to drift and the smile he had started to slowly fade. I had to do something but I felt like I had exhausted all the options I had thought of and all I had left was trying to talk to him but I don’t know if that’s going to work.
“You know I’m so proud of you” I said
“Thanks babe” he muttered
“I’m serious I couldn’t be prouder to be able to call you my boyfriend you are just so amazing” I said
“And I’m incredibly lucky to be able to call you my girlfriend I don’t know what I’d do without your support and your pretty face is a bonus” he teased
“Well I enjoy looking at your pretty face too” I said
We teased each other for a while longer before we both started to get tired so I suggested we go to bed. He carried me up the stairs and we got into bed together where any normal night we cuddle slightly but not too much as Jude gets too hot when we cuddle. Tonight however he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me tightly. After the emotional rollercoaster of the last few hours I was exhausted but I stayed awake long enough to know that Jude was sound asleep and when he was I gave him one last kiss before settling down to get some sleep myself.
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It’s this time of the year again, folks. Time to wrap up the art Ive made in the last 12 months in another Year in Review! I’ve noticed that this is my fifth Year in Review in a row, so I’ll be making an extra post looking back on the progress in those last 5 years!
I've got a lot to say about this year, but purely art wise, I've gone all when it comes to comics, damn! I've kinda found a format that is messy, and therefore more time efficient, yet still looks good. I even made 2 animatics and lotsa shorts/reels! All that on top of opening coms twice, and, oh yeah, MAKING A WHOLE ASS 4MIN ANIMATION ON MY OWN.
How is my hand still alive.
2023 has been….interesting, to say the least. The first half year I was working on my thesis project, aka making an animated short all on my own (in the art department), which makes it honestly surprising how much I managed to churn out between animating. Trigun rly did have me in a choke hold.
Summer was a bit more spotty, esp. with me not being able to draw anything during August as I was writing my thesis (and doing commissions). And towards the end of the year, Kingdom Hearts tried to save me, but alas, Genshin Impact has finally sunk its teeth into me and dragged me to the bottom of the rabbit hole. It all started with me watching a story summary and lore videos while I was sick after my thesis and I was too intrigued to not dig deeper and well, first I fell in love with Kaeya and then the ships started dropping in left and right.
I’m not gonna lie, the last few months have been weird. I finished my masters in October, and have been on job hunt since, sadly without success so far. I’m existing in this weird limbo of still not grasping I’m not a student anymore after 18 years in education, not really being able to accept I’m an adult, yet desperately trying to find something so I can make a routine, cos rn Im too scared to build a rhythm as I know I’ll have a so much harder time readjusting again. It’s left me in a weird emotional state, where most of the time I feel fine, but when it counts, there’s just, nothing. No joy at getting my diploma, no anticipation to finally go to a convention again, neither any sadness hearing my grandfather died. It frustrates me that it extends to my art as well, there’s excitement over ideas and concepts, but no motivation to pick up the pencil, which makes me either not finish art at all or making so many shortcuts and just ending up with sth not satisfactory to me since it’s not the idea I sought after.
Tho, not everything is doom and gloom. I DID finish a whole ass short animation and got my masters degree, that IS sth to be proud of. Also, while Im struggling at drawing, I’ve also kinda started integrating my shortcuts into my style and some stuff I’ve thrown together actually turns out real good nowadays. Also, and this might be a bit of a weird one, I’m so fucking happy to know I can still enjoy gay ships. I’ve been a bit uncertain over the last few years because when I was around 16-18, I had a real big yaoi phase, which mostly came from the fact so much stuff came out that tickled my brain in the right way (Free, Haikyuu, etc.). But over the years, my enthusiasm died down, and I even started to resent some ships because it’s all some fandoms produced. I often found myself liking a hetero ship more than the popular gay ship, which really made me not wanna stick around because I did not care for most fanart and you can only go through a tag with art you don’t care about so long before you lose interest. I think in retrospect that it rly had nothing to do with the ships being gay ships but rather cos the fans just shoved it in your face when you didn’t care (and shipping culture nowadays also can get real scary). But I’m so happy to see I can still get obsessed with a ship and it’s all thanks to Haikaveh/Kavetham. It really just needed the right flavour for me to dig in again. And oh my god, I FINALLY like a ship with a SHIT TON of art and fanfictions, no more scrounging the crumbs from the bottom of the barrel.
Anyways, enough lamenting. Here’s to hoping I can bite my tongue and get shit started properly in 2024, and that my brainrots may make me obsessed enough to churn out an obscene amount of fanart again.
#art year in review#anime-grimmy#fanart#sketch#comic#animatic#undertale#trigun#legend of zelda#monster hunter#kingdom hearts#undead unluck#genshin impact
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Cold | Choi Beomgyu
Index
Chapter five
Warnings: beomgyu's not soft anymore, explicit content, not finished smut, reader crying while having sex.
Word count: 1.5k
Taglist: @arianap23e, @haatohwa
Hii! I've been really busy this week, that's why I uploaded the chapter one day after I should. So sorry.
However, you know I'm not a native speaker, so make sure you let me know about any mistake I make. Thank you so much for supporting me. If you want to be added to the tag list, make sure you let me know.
When I received a message from Beomgyu ten minutes ago asking me to go to his room as soon as possible, I was hoping nothing but to see him being soft again. I was at Jiwoo’s house when that happened.
I told her I needed to go—even if she said she missed me at school on Monday, even if I was helping her with one of the maths topics she asked for because she knows I saw that topic last year, even if she asked me not to leave; I left, walking home with a weird excitement I only have when I want something good to happen but I deeply know something wrong will happen.
Beomgyu looks at me darkly when I finally get home. He’s silent one more time, but I don’t feel this softness from yesterday. I walk towards him, although I’m never the one getting close to him.
“You took so long,” He hisses.
“I’m sorry, I was at-” He interrupts me.
“Take off your clothes” I look at him, suddenly trembling while my heart aches like a knife has just sunk into it. I hardly swallow as a knot appears in my throat. “I’ll be waiting in my room” He goes upstairs, leaving me all alone and making me feel guilty, like I’ve done something wrong.
I go to my room first, taking my clothes off and letting them in my bed, turning around to see myself in the full body mirror of my room. Why do I feel so bad if I love him that much? Maybe because I don’t want him to fuck me once again—because I don’t want to know that I’m nothing but a whore. His whore. Then, why am I walking towards his room? Why don’t I run away as fast as I can? Do I even need to?... He’s never forced me to do anything… I have always been the one forcing myself.
Because I love him.
I wonder if this strength I have been trying to forge in order to show myself I have at least a bit of self-love has faded because of those short moments of softness I passed by his side. When I stand right in front of him, quiet and trembling… I understand that I’m under his power once again.
He looks at me from his chair. His eyes move from my neck, my small breasts, my arms, my belly button, my thin legs, and my hips. I almost believe he loves me. That’s the moment he tells me to walk towards him.
I don’t even mind closing the door as I already know our parents aren’t home and aren’t going to be home until it’s late and until we’re over.
He looks at me, lifting his face since he is still sitting on his chair. His hands land on my hips, right before he pulls me a little bit closer just to leave a kiss on my lower abdomen. A chill runs down my back.
He takes my hand with his right hand while the other one holds my hip, guiding me towards his lap. Each leg on each side of his body. He hugs my waist now, and I find support on the back of the chair.
His lips meet my cheek. Then, he kisses my neck a few times, some more kisses on my clavicles and shoulder, and all I can think about is if he’s going to kiss me—because it is strangely what we do the least.
His black skinny jeans meet my slit, making me moan highly because of the scratchy fabric against my sensitive skin and also because of the sudden contact.
He looks down as his hands make me move above him, back and forward, not giving me time to get used to it. I feel my cunt drooling above him, wetting his jeans until there’s a dark patch on his jeans.
He unbuttons his jeans, lowering along with his boxers just a little bit, until his dick’s standing against my tummy, rock hard and drooling pre-cum. He takes my hips, angling my body until his cock meets my slit. He moves my hips up and down, rubbing his cock against my slit—from my clitoris to my entrance, once and another time. On and on, until I’m breathless, a knot forming on my lower abdomen.
But I still cannot hear him moaning, sighing, or even breathing. When I open my eyes, I find him looking at me. The tip of his pretty nose all red. I look up at the rest of his face—his shiny eyes and the top of his cheeks red like he had just cried or was about to before I came.
And I don’t really know why but something inside me cannot do anything but blame his mother. Because, suddenly, she became the culprit of any bad thing that could ever happen to him.
Without even thinking about it, my hands pull away his hands, and then, they go to his face, caressing the soft skin of his pink cheeks. He looks at me confused, frowning at my unusual behavior.
“What’re you doing?” His voice sounds way softer than minutes before.
“Is it your mother?” I ask, but not actually waiting for a response. He looks at me surprised, and after a blink, I look at his eyes growing red and shiny. Then, I pass my hands over his shoulders, hugging his neck tightly, feeling him sighing. After some seconds of being this way, I can even say he’s crying.
However, I suddenly feel his hands taking mine tightly. I look at him confused—not even a tear on any part of his face. He forces me to stand up, doing the same himself, making me wonder if I crossed the line. He pushes me to the bed strongly, making me bounce because of the force he used. And when he positions himself right above me, everything I see in his face is hate.
Hate. The same hate I’ve ever seen on him. When he talked to me the first time we met at our parent’s wedding; every time we met each other at school; when our parents forced us to eat dinner together as a family;… when he entered my room at midnight and stole my virginity without even faking love.
The night right before that, I was sure that you couldn’t have sex for the first time without even kissing someone before. How dumb.
And every single time after that. The same hate, the same rage, the same resentment—just like I did something to him before.
But everything I do is loving him until I’m loving him more than myself.
I wonder once again if that’s what I want for my life—that unjustified hatred; the fear of what’s going to be his following action; his coldness; being always quiet, even if it hurts agonizingly when he pounds on my vagina the way he does, hitting my cervix once and again without even prepping me well.
Is that what I want for the rest of my life?...
Yes.
My tears roll easily all over my face, falling to his bed as his dick hits my cervix nonstop, but despite the great pleasure I feel, it doesn’t feel very good. I’m overwhelmed by a large amount of destructive thoughts I thought for a minute I would never have again because ‘Beomgyu is acting differently’. But he’s not anymore.
I close my eyes strongly, trying to deal with it, until I’m audibly sobbing beneath him. I try to cover my face with my arm, but he takes both of my hands, using his strength to force them above my head tightly.
I cried many times from pleasure, but right now… It just doesn't feel great.
“Stop,” I say. It’s always been hard for me to talk when I’m crying. But he doesn’t stop. “Stop!” I'm yelling. “Beomgyu, stop! Stop, I don’t want to anymore!” He lets my hands go as fast as he can and takes his dick out of me.
I cover my face with my hands trying to calm myself, until I find out I can’t because I need to cry everything away.
“Jeongseo” I hear his voice, and then, his hand touches my arm, making me jump from fear. I look at him, looking like he’s feeling guilty and scared at the same time. But what can I do? I already trusted him many times before, and every time I’m back on his bed, I understand once again that he will never change.
But that doesn’t really matter because after I ran away to my bedroom, I realize this is not the first time it happens. I’m trapped in this never-ending cycle, not actually wishing for it to break because everything I can think about is all the good moments, the nice feelings, him.
#beomgyu smut#txt smut#txt choi line smut#soobin smut#tw: noncon#toxic beomgyu#tw: dubcon#kpop#kpop smut#fanfic#txt x reader#txt imagines#Beomgyu stepbrother#beomgyu overstimulation#beomgyu hard dom#beomgyu mean dom#Cold | Beomgyu#purrplegyuu
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You're absolutely perfect
Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Maybe love is not so bad
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: unedited, fluff,
Requested by @fanmak hey! Thank you so much for requesting, sorry if it was late but I had some problems as I explained here, but here it is, hopefully I did not stray too much from what you requested and I hope you like it! ♡
Masterlist
Colin was, or actually, used to be a hopeless romantic. He was in love with the idea of finding your one true love, your soul mate, that there was a person out there destined to be with you.
But that that all changed with Marina Thompson.
Now he does not understand why people craved love. Love hurts, destroys and illusions you. And he still thought that, especially after everything that happened with Marina Thompson.
Why would someone want that feeling?
Why was wanting to be hurt so expected?
He never understood why until he saw you again. After he really, really saw you. When he observed your eyes that shone between kindness and illusion. When he saw you smile at the chaos that was his family. When he saw the way you were with little Hyacinth and Gregory.
When your eyes met his, happiness evident in your eyes after spending time with his siblings, he understood: that he would endure everything that may happen just to be by your side.
He believed in soulmates again.
It happened on the winter of 1813, a few months after the social season.
With Daphne off in her new house, married to the Duke of Hastings, they were missing one person which the Bridgerton siblings needed to fully compete in their annual winter games. And your family being close friends with the Bridgertons, as well as you being best friends with Daphne and Eloise, even if you were older than her, they decided to invite you all for the holidays, which your family and you gladly accepted.
“Colin!” You exclaimed happily once you saw him after greeting everyone else “You’re back!” you approached him slowly as the snow sunk your feet slightly
“Y/n” Colin greeted as he stared at you surprised.
After the whole fiasco with Marina and her pregnancy, Colin decided that it would be best to take a break from society and thus, he went to do what he loves the most, traveling.
It has been a while since he saw you. Of course you saw each other after Daphne was presented in front of the queen, when you went to congratulate her when she was named the Diamond of the season. But after that you haven’t seen each other.
You were a year younger than Daphne but you still haven’t made your debut as your mother thought it best to have you fully prepare before you entered society, as you will be this coming season.
Anyway, with you still not being a debutante, you were not present in balls or other events, and with Colin enthralled by Marina, you never saw each other except for small glances when the Bridgerton family invited yours over.
That is why he was surprised when he saw you again, you looked way different than he remembered you to be, not like he really looked at you, but still. You looked more mature, more like a proper lady, more… he daresay, beautiful.
Even if it makes him sound shallow, that was what interested him at first.
“It was a shorter trip this time huh?” You mused as you brushed the snow out of your hair “Colin?” you questioned when he didn’t speak.
That snapped him out of his thoughts “Oh, yeah, I saw everything there was to see in Athens and mother asked me to come back for the holidays, I thought it was the least I could do after the scandal I brought the family last season”
You smiled reassuringly “Surely you must know it was not your fault. You did not know Marina would do something like that, you were the victim. I am positive none of your family blames you for what happened, so neither should you”
He chuckled looking down before looking down at you fondly “ Daphne and Eloise are lucky to have a friend like you” He commented
“They really are, are they not?” You smile teasingly making him laugh
“Y/n!” Eloise exclaimed “What are you even doing speaking to him, he is not important, I have something to show you” She tugs you away before you could speak.
“I love you too, sister” Colin only shakes his head at his sister as he watched her pull you away
The snow falling seized, left in its wake the ground covered, perfect for some friendly war, as the Bridgertons thought.
“Come on, Y/n!” Hyacinth urged you “Before it starts snowing again and mother changes her mind” you laughed grabbing your coat and Hyacinth’s along with some gloves with Gregory putting his own behind you both
You helped Hyacinth put her coat and gloves on before she tugged you out the door gleefully, the rest of the Bridgerton family, and yours, following you behind.
You helped Hyacinth and Gregory build a snowman while the rest of the siblings were getting everything else ready. You were tasked to build a big ball of snow while they build the other two.
You looked down at the ground, piling snow on top of each other and molding it into a ball when you felt snow hitting your face.
“Hey!” you yelped at the cold. You looked over and saw Hyacinth chuckling whole Gregory was pointing at her, you grab some snow on to your hands “Oh it is on” you chucked it at her but she quickly ducked, the snow hitting Gregory in the face instead.
Gregory turned to look at you shocked, you gave him a sheepish smile, looking at him apologetic. He bent down and also grabbed some snow, thus starting a snow ball fight.
You all laughed running all over the field, using others for cover when one of you chucked snow at the other, the other soon joining in to the fight, now some big chaos was happening.
You giggled as this time you ran behind Colin “Hi” you greeted when he turned around to look at you
“That is not very brave of you, hiding behind others” Colin teased, you laughed shrugging your shoulders
“I never said I was brave, did I?” You responded, he chuckled before he bent down, you looked at him wide eyed, gasping dramatically once you saw what he bent down for
“Wait- Colin, Do-“ He chuckled as you backed away from him, before loosing your footing and falling down to the ground, yelping.
You looked at each other before you both burst out laughing, shaking your heads. Colin stopped laughing after a while, now looking at you as you laid flat on the ground, your shoulders shaking as you kept laughing. He smiled with admiration as he kept looking at you.
You're absolutely Perfect.
Yeah, he would not mind having you in his future.
#colin bridgerton x you#colin bridgerton#colin bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton x you#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton x reader#eloise bridgerton#hyacinth bridgerton#violet bridgerton#daphne basset#daphne bridgerton#gregory bridgerton#francesca bridgerton
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4 - The Rise of Skywalker
Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader
Chapter Four - Never Escape
Summary: Reader has a bad dream Vader does his best to comfort her. This is a short update but I should be able to post the next full chapter once I'm home from work.
Warnings: smut - sex, Dom Vader, nightmares
Previous Chapters
You were curled on your side with your back pressed against him. Your mind slipped through many doors and eventually flew into one you wanted to avoid. You were back in that cave. Vader before you, his words were harsh ripping into your flesh. He spoke of the prophecy, that moment of hope, perhaps this was all part of a cosmic plan. He could come back from this, and choose good. Choose you.
You failed me
You sunk to your knees and felt his red blade slice in your shoulder, right through into your chest. You sat up gasping, heavy arms were around you in a second and you fought them. Fought the presence that was pulsing through them. The tears in your eyes were so thick it hurt to breathe.
A lamp turned on and you looked at the figure next to you. He had done this to you, you should fight him. End him. Darkness moved through your veins then stopped as you met his red eyes.
The pain behind them mirrored the pain in your chest. You could feel his hesitancy to move, then his decision to leave giving you space. You flung yourself at him and not in the way your instincts had told you to. Your arms circled his neck and you clung to his broad shoulders. He pulled you into his lap and moved to lean against your headboard.
You could feel him pushing on the edges of your mind but you wouldn't give him this memory. One that had sat heavily on your shoulders for the past few years. You didn't understand the dark side’s hold on the Dagobah System. When you sank to your knees after hearing that prophecy, that moment of hope you held, you thought it was real. When that blade struck through you, you thought it was over.
Ahsoka had pulled you out and carried you to the ship. You remembered R2 scattering around you making various noises and you swore the droid had felt him.
The arms around you were muscular, and degrees hotter than your own flesh. Even the lower metal potion was warm. You took some deep breaths and wondered why you chose to trust him again.
“I have R2.” You blurted out not wanting to move his mind onto an easier topic to speak about.
“Really?” He asked surprised.
“He’s normally always with me, Ahsoka wanted the ship while I was away so I left him behind with her.” You mumbled into his neck. “We can see him tomorrow.”
“You gonna tell me what happened in your dream.” He kissed the side of your head.
“No.” You said firmly and felt fear grip him. You thought about his past with bad dreams. “It’s something in the past, something that already happened.” This calmed him slightly.
“I don’t like the things that haunt you.” He said and you knew full well he was talking about his own actions.
“Me either.” It was the things you didn’t talk about in the end that pulled everything apart. The secrets you all kept from one another, it made it so easy for Palpatine. You shuddered and he pulled the blanket around you. “I will tell you everything. Just not tonight.” You pulled your face away from his shoulder to look at him in the eyes again.
“It was what we didn’t talk about that turned against us last time.” You continued. His eyes narrowed, you knew there was more he wanted to say. You pressed your lips to his not wanting to feel this darkness around you any longer.
You wanted to feel him. Be comforted by him.
His gloved hand cradled the back of your neck.
“Master.” You whispered feeling your body start to crave him again. The name had caused him to flinch slightly.
“Don’t call me that -” He started and you remembered when you were first assigned to him. Being a slave for the better part of his life he hated it when you called him that. Eventually, it became a joke, then he realized you got off on the power imbalance so he allowed it. But to call him Vader? Your stomach dropped.
“I won’t call you by that name.” It was as if his blade was back burning through your chest. Rage rose through you and your hands began to shake. You wanted to hit him for even suggesting it.
“Anakin.” He said in a defeated tone. “My name is Anakin.”
You looked at him for a moment. You knew how much pain the name caused him as you could feel it thawing in his chest. Much like the other night he decided to take it out on your body just the way you liked. He gripped into your hips as he kissed you hard. Emotion was drowning the two of you and you knew one day you would need a better form of communication but his tongue pushed into your mouth and your mind stopped.
You sucked on his tongue and all your strength was gone. You wanted him to use you, he was always so kind to you while he did it. He looked at you as if you were something precious, something to protect and care for. When he looked at you in times like this in the late hours of the night he didn’t see your scarred skin or the battles you had won. He didn’t see you by your ability to follow Jedi code or live up to expectations. He was the only person you had ever had that just looked at you with pure want and need, but took from you with such kindness.
His hands ran over your body and his force presence surrounded you. He pulled wetness from your body easily. Laying on your back with your legs spread for him he admired you. You knew he would praise you for the slickness even though it was out of your control. You felt your world slip away as his fingers ran through your core. You whimpered feeling the stress in your body unravel.
He didn’t waste any time knowing you were ready for him. He moved into you slowly, his cock pulsing inside you. He was so hard you figured this wouldnt last long which suited you because it was hard to keep you eyes open.
His presence around you was so heavy your lungs had to struggle against it. He thrusts were slow and almost painfully deep. The pressure building inside you was too much to hold onto and you let it take you under. The bond grew further as you submitted to him, his emotions were always so much bigger than yours.
Your mind fully slipped into the shared space between you. You would never escape him, not when this feeling was the only thing that ever felt like home.
It was heavy, and thick, neither of you could breathe well. When he reached for your clit you were beyond thankful. You felt like you were being pulled through water after being at a dark depth. His teeth sunk in to your neck to keep himself quiet. You broke the surface and your body spasmed around him, electricity pulsing through you. You could breathe and you gasped feeling your body pulse. He filled you, holding you in that elevated place till he was done fucking you.
You collapsed as your visioin faded. You already knew he would clean you up and tuck you back into bed. Placing you at his side where he could hold you, where you couldnt escape him.
#anakin skywalker#star wars#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader smut#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader smut#padawan reader
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•| A not so stolen youth |•
Stranger things / chapter 3
Summary: Everything in life seemed limited to walls of whites and rainbows. Caged within the confines of the lab. But an accident that involved a group of teenagers and the upside down world finally let him free. In a funny turn of events he found himself hiding in a step sibling's shed. A redhead that loves video games and a blond that spends his time making sure to keep his good looks.
Character: Male child OC
Warnings: Possible to descriptive scenes, child abuse, use of drugs and bad language.
A/N: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.
Prev part - Masterlist - Next part
It was early in the morning, every kid was either at school or at home because they’re sick. All except for one.
Thirteen walked with tranquility through the groups of trees scattered all over the town. He found that the only onces that walked there were a few really young kids, other than that, the coast is completely clear.
But what is not completely clear is his mind. The day before he saw something that brought back awful memories. He found out, his father is not the only man like that in the world and he isn’t the only one like him out there. He would like to say that he doesn’t understand Billy completely, but he does.
The teenage has moments of calmness when he usually keeps to himself or even glances at him as if inspecting his soul, and moments of complete chaos when he is hostile against anything and anyone near him.
Billy was angry at his father, that much was evident, but he couldn’t do a thing because he knew it was useless. That was a feeling he could relate a little bit to well.
It happened too often to him in the lab. Loosing his papa’s respect brought a lot of punishment with it and answering it only left him in pain. His only solution was to hold back and resist. But that led to future explosions where he sent his guards flying or breaking an entire room with a scream.
He was labeled as dangerous and forced to stay isolated.
He was thinking of ways to help make him feel better but nothing came to mind other than a present.
But what?
Or maybe, some company? That’s what he wanted when he was in the lab. Maybe that’s what Billy needs at home.
Before he could think about other options, his senses detected something. He heard a pair of soft footsteps quite some distance further in front of him but instead of dreading to find the person a familiar feeling made itself present in the back of his mind. He waited.
As silent as ever, he walked cautiously towards the sound.
Both kids that found themselves in front of one another gasped in surprise. They know each other.
The curly haired girl smiled at the boy receiving a smile in return.
“Eleven.” Whispered the boy, walking closer to her.
“Thirteen.” Once close enough they engulfed each other in a big hug, giggling, happy to realize they both basically survived.
The kids pulled away, still connected by their arms, smiling like no other day.
They had so much to talk about.
“-and then, she taught how to skateboard.” Commented the boy with glee.
They have been talking for about an hour about what’s happened the last year after escaping the lab and getting in contact with the upside down. So far, everything’s been peaceful.
He was happy to know that she was also taken care off by a good guy, even though she puts a kind of weird expression when she mentions him, she stills seems to trust him a lot too.
“But…” he made a pause and sunk in the log they were both seating at the reminder of what happened a few hours ago. “Her papa…” he turned his eyes from his joined hands to the attentive look of eleven. “He is like our papa.”
Eleven gasped softly at the revelation.
“She and Billy hide me.” His lips curved a little at the sides. He always gets a warm and fluffy feeling in his chest at the reminder of people that care about his safety. “She gave me clothes.” He gripped the fabric of the blue hoodie in his chest. The same that keeps his body heat from escaping. “And a name. Magnus.”
Eleven gave him a close-lipped smile. They don’t know each other as well as she would like too because they were separated in the lab. They met only after the rest of the kids disappeared and their father needed more power to connect with the unknown world. But couldn’t interact that much in a friendly way under the scrutinizing eyes of their handlers. He always wore a frown accompanied with tired eyes. So she is happy to see him finally smile, even in the slightest.
“And you?” He asked, giving her the opportunity to express something that might be bothering her.
“Hopper is good.” She nodded. “But he lies.” The kid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He says, one day I’ll leave to see my friends but that never happens. He promised soon, but soon never comes.”
Thirteen lowered his head in sadness. He knows that feeling, or he knew, before living with his only friend.
“He says it’s dangerous, that it’s for my protection.” The kid wrapped an arm around her in a side hug to comfort her.
In moments like that he wished he was more like magneto and fight for their freedom.
But he couldn’t, he was just a kid after all. All he could do was make her aware that she’s not alone.
A certain blonde haired teenage boy was currently tightening a screw on the engine of his blue baby Camaro.
He was finishing changing the air filter. After what happened the day before with his father he has been looking for ways to release some pent-up pressure. He already said goodbye to his last hook up an hour ago, he doesn’t know where Max is because she was late and he left her to skate home alone and he already worked out in the living room but nothing seemed to make his anger decrease.
Billy huffed once he was finished, cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his dirtied hand. It wasn’t enough but that’ll have to do.
“Jesus.” Exclaimed the blond once he turned around and found the boy behind him, startling him. Weirdly attentive to what he was doing. “What the hell are you doing there? Are you a creep?” He asked with annoyance. He had almost sent the tool in his hand flying.
The kid just kept looking at him and the car with his big blue eyes and shrugged. He didn’t know what ‘creep’ means.
Billy raised a brow at the look of wonder in the kids face. He has seen it a few times before, directed to him, like trying to figure him out, which makes him edgy, but this time it was directed more to his car. “Never seen a car before?” He asked mockingly.
Unknown to him, the first time the boy saw a car was when he escaped from the lab. Ever since that day, the younger one has been greatly interested in the weird machines that roll faster than any adult he has ever seen runs.
Billy furrowed his brows when the only answer he got was the kid leaning his head to the side, still looking at the car.
Was he really that stupid? No, he couldn’t be. They would have already found him if that was the case, but he would have to live under a rock to not know what a car is.
“What, cat got your tongue, brat?” Thirteen shook his head and stick his tongue out to demostrarte it was still there making Billy huffed and turned to his car.
What a weird kid.
He grabbed the car’s hood and slam it shut to make sure it was closed.
“Cool.” Alluded the boy walking closer to the drivers side.
“What?” Thirteen glanced at Billy for a moment before returning to the inside of the vehicle repeating his word.
“Cool.” He is not completely sure if his using correctly the word Max taught him. ‘A word to describe something that’s better than amazing.’ Is what she said, and that is exactly what he thinks about the car.
“Huh, at least you have taste.” Said Billy as he wiped his hands in a towel he had hanging from his short’s waistband. Until he got an idea. Something that would help him destress and he used to do it a lot in California. “Hey brat.”
Thirteen turned towards Billy, not knowing what ‘brat’ means but understanding he wanted his attention. He blinked a few times, watching the weird look in the teenager’s eyes. He had an idea.
Billy would never in his life know what led him to do what he did, but the next thing he knows, he is driving top speed in one of the many lonely roads in the outer sides of Hawkins with the kid in the copilot seat. He loves to use the backroads.
He thought the kid would be scared shitless, however, the kid was grasping the seatbelt like his life depends on it (because it does) with the biggest smile Billy has ever seen.
But he doesn’t care that the kid didn’t get scared he was too concentrated in the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the speed to actually pay attention. He didn’t even light the cigarette between his lips because it wasn’t needed.
Billy whooped in ecstasy and bobbed along the surprisingly not so loud music. It was more important the roar of the engine than the beat coming from the stereo.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Cheered Billy with his always sharp smile.
But that wasn’t the best part, he was waiting for the right moment to put his car modifications to the test. In a way he couldn’t in the crowded city of California.
His smile widened when he saw what he was looking for. A wide straight doble lane road.
It’s show time.
He stepped on the break and pulled the hand brake simultaneously, then turned the wheel completely to one side in a second. The car instantly followed the action, turning with so much force skidding the tires in the street. Making a U turn by drifting.
Billy laughed loudly while the kid beside him screamed for his life. The wheels scraped the floor until the vehicle came to a stop in the other side of the road. Facing the opposite direction.
Not waiting for anything, he pushed the hand break back down and step on the gas. The wheels screeched against the ground, leaving marks, before moving at full speed back to the house.
At the speed he was driving it only took him 10 minutes to arrive.
He got out of the car after killing the engine and lit the cigarette between his lips, taking a drag as if it was pure oxygen he was inhaling. Finally he felt a little bit better.
So lost in his relief he didn’t pay attention to the passenger in his car. He only turned his head back when he heard a thud. He found the passenger seat empty and the door opened. He huffed thinking the kid just left without closing the door but he stop when he went around the car and found the kid basically face planted in the dirt while giggling.
Billy scoffed a laugh almost sending the cigarette in mouth flying. He was positive the kid was high with adrenaline. He saw the kid try to stand up in his jelly legs only to fall on his side.
“What the hell?” Billy didn’t need to turn around to know who that was. He merely rolled his eyes when the redhead rushed by him to get to the kid. “What did you do to him?” She asked when the kid tried to stand up again with her help but stumbled to the side like he was drunk. She got even more confused when she heard him giggle.
“I fixed your damn brat.” He grumbled taking a drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and returning to the house. He wanted to take a shower.
Max looked between the retreating back of her step brother and the kid seating in the dirt with a big smile in his face.
Could it be possible that Billy changed his mind?
No, that is not something Billy could ever do.
But either way, she was relieved that he was at least tolerating the kid’s presence.
If Max thought they had made a progress with Billy after the ride he had with Magnus. She was wrong.
The very next day his anger returned when he saw her talking to Lucas. There was no problem with that, she didn’t plan to be part of their club of hypocrites anyway.
Well, that was her plan, until the very next day she wanted to go to the arcade to play dig dug and forget everything only to be tricked in to the breakroom by Lucas himself. They argued about the veracity of the fanciful story Lucas told her ensuring that it was the truth.
Leaving the arcade Billy saw him at the door. At first he acted eerily calm while accusing her of disobeying and lying. But a silent threat was made evident later in the afternoon when Billy broke her skateboard when reversing in his car.
It was his way of telling her he could ‘accidentally’ break something without a problem.
He became a ticking time bomb and she didn’t want to be there to see it explode because she would be the collateral damage, and possibly with her, Magnus too. Even though he has mostly ignored the kid in the last days, it was obvious the anger he was holding in.
Taking every posible outcome Max took a decision. She’ll go back to Cali to her father and she’ll take Magnus with her.
The kid already had a new name, and no one will be looking for a kid in another city, miles away from were he was.
That’s how she found herself in this position. Fidgeting with her fingers inside her hoodie pockets, feeling the money between her fingers and watching attentively at Magnus sitting in her bed and messing with her Walkman.
She got the money by telling her mother that she wanted to buy a new shirt but she wanted the money to buy it herself and avoid any kind of harsh comments from Neil if she went with them to the mall in the neighboring town. Her mother, illusioned with the possibility of her daughter buying something more feminine, gladly gave her double the money she needed to buy the shirt. She thanked the heavens her mother did because she forgot the amount of money it’ll cost to buy two bus tickets.
She forgot a slight detail. The distance between her and her father was much more now that she is in Hawkins than when she was in Cali, and the tickets would be more expensive.
She already prepared two bags with things for her and Magnus. In that precise moment she has the perfect opportunity to leave with him. Her parents aren’t home and they’ll come back until night and Billy was too busy working on his muscles for his next hook up of the night to notice.
Gaining some courage Max sat next to the kid in her bed. She took a breath and spoke. “Mag-“
She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, someone calling at the door.
The kid raised his head, looking between Max and the bedroom’s closed door. He was to concentrated on the Walkman that he didn’t pay attention to the footsteps at the front door. It’s not like Billy’s blasting music trough the house helped at all.
He was already used to the volume of the music, but hearing it with the door open still hurt his head. At least the wood helps to drown out the sound. But he was still relieved that it’s not as loud as the alarms in the lab. That was a real headache.
He jumped from the bed when doorbell sounded again. He needed to hide. He turned to the window but stopped, if the person in the door somehow comes to the backside of the house he’ll be screwed. He turned to the bed. He doesn’t fit under it. As his last and only option, the kid threw himself inside the closet and closed the door, always leaving a crack to let the light come inside.
Max pressed her lips together trying to suppress a laugh. For a moment he looked like a headless chicken.
Her poorly covered smile disappeared when she heard her stepbrother yell at the next ring. “Max, are you getting that or what?”
Exasperated with him she yelled her answered “Okay.” She opened stood up stomping her way out of the room, closing the door behind her
“I swear to God Max.” Fumed the blond getting an eye roll and a glare from his sister when she walked by him. He just proceeded to lift the weights again.
From the closet, Magnus could slightly hear the door opening and closing over the music, along with Max’s voice from the other side of the door, indicating that now she was outside with whoever was at the door. He couldn’t tell what they were talking about because the music muffled their voices.
He waited for a moment, relieved that Max at least sounded like she knew the person outside. He was also aware that it wasn’t Neil, he could have heard his truck parking or his gruff voice booming in the house.
He waited a little while until she finally came back, closing the door behind her. She turned to Magnus watching the window in wariness. She knew why. Lucas was outside of the window. “Magnus.” She called for his attention.
He turned to her, blinking a few times.
“I… ammm.” She fidget in her place looking for the words to say. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she just made up her mind and decided she’ll find out what’s really happening with Lucas and his group because deep down she still wishes to have friends. “I’ll live with the stalker for a few hours. He says he has proof or something.”
“Where?” Came the silent question from the kid. Max almost didn’t hear it with Billy’s blasting music coming through the door.
“To the old junkyard.” Magnus lifted a brown and tilted his head slightly to the side. There was nothing in there other than trash and forgotten stuff. Nevertheless, he nodded, understanding that she is going there like really few other teenagers do. “Okay, then. I’ll be back.” She said, making the reference of the terminator movie even though Magnus didn’t catch it.
She turned to one of the two opened windows. The one closest to the bed. She stepped on the woodshed outside before stopping and turning to Magnus who was seating in her closet.
“Don’t talk with Billy if he doesn’t talk to you, by the way. He’s not in the mood and can get cranky.” Magnus smiled at the thought but nodded again.
Don’t talk to Billy. Copy.
Max said a soft goodbye before exiting when she heard the boy outside telling her to speed up. He even heard her commenting that whatever they were doing better be worth it.
Minutes later after she left, Magnus stayed in her closet. He was to engrossed in the Walkman she borrowed him.
The interest came when he returned from the store he likes to visit (steal from) with a cassette tape he found behind the garbage dump.
He put on the headphones and changed the tapes the way Max instructed him to. He pressed play instantly jumping in his place and accidentally trowing the headphones. The volume was too high. Even with the headphones in the floor he could hear it clearly.
He decreased the volume to the minimum before putting the headphones back on. The rhythm of the music was somewhat similar to the songs Billy hears when exercising but not as scandalous. He turned the Walkman over to see the tape through the see through cover. The letters in the side said ‘Call Me by blondie’ and something else he couldn’t read due to the blurred sharpie. He likes it though.
He bobbed his head to the rhythm of the music, not caring that he could hear Billy’s music through the headphones. He liked it. He found his taste in music.
Still moving his head to the beat, he stood up and walked to the window farthest from the bed. He sat on the window sill dangling his feet for a couple of second before jumping out. He looked at the full woodshed beside him before returning to the shed. Walkman in hand.
He’ll wait for Max in there.
It’s been a few hours and Max still hasn’t retuned. Magnus got bored since he doesn’t know where Max’s tapes are and he can’t read so well, so he decided to steal an apple from the Hargroves’ fridge.
Meanwhile, the blond teenager was done exercising, taking a shower and currently sharpening his look before his date (hook up). He sprayed hair product in the hair locks that fell on his forehead. Turning over the bottle of colon, he spread a few drops of the liquid in his wrist, even going as far as to spread a little bit in the southern area.
He turned and posed in front of the mirror, smiling with satisfaction at the result. Taking a drag from his previously lit cigarette he leaned forward and blew the smoke against his reflexión, winking. Yep, he was ready.
His smile was erased once he heard someone calling at the door. He noticed the rush in the knock even over his blasting music. “Billy?” He knew that voice. The reason for witch his father decided it was a good idea to move.
Kind of.
“Yeah, I’m a little bit busy in here, Susan.” He answered uninterestedly.
“Open the door. Right now.” He mentally cursed when he heard his father’s commanding voice in the other side. There was no way around this.
Genuinely curious he finally opened the door finding his father frowning face and the always present worried face of Susan shielding herself behind the man.
“What’s wrong?” He cut to the chase.
Neil wasn’t at all impressed by his son’s bluntness. “Why don’t you tell us?”
“Because I don’t know.” He answered with obviousness in his tone. They just appeared in his door insinuating something that he isn’t aware of and yet, he is not surprised. Everything that goes wrong for Neil is always somehow his fault. No matter what.
“We can’t find Maxine-” Said Susan.
“And her window’s open.” Interrupted the man like the boss that he believes himself. Billy faltered for a second, looking in another direction before regaining himself. Even he was surprised. She was in her room with the brat a few hours ago. “Where is she?” Commanded Neil.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Scoffed the Man like his son was the worst dumbass in the world, annoying the younger.
“Look, I’m sure she just, I don’t know, went to the arcade or something.” Explained Billy, still not finding the force in his voice, kicking himself for it, and panicking internally. To avoid looking at the rising anger in his father eyes he went to the closet to retrieve his previously selected leather jacket. “I’m sure she is fine.”
Nike wasn’t having any of it. “You were supposed to watch her.” He commented, like he was just making an obvious observation.
Billy could clearly hear the covered anger under those words. But he couldn’t stop himself from arguing. He was getting annoyed.
He sighed. “I know dad. I was. It’s just you guys were three hours late, and, well, I have a date.” He slipped on the jacket and turned towards the man ready to face it and just leave. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“So that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot instead of watching your sister?”
That did it.
“I have been looking after her all week, dad. Okay?” He snapped. “She wants to run off, then that’s her problem, all right?” Neil licked the interior of his cheek, concealing his anger with an eerie façade. “She’s 13 years old. She shouldn’t need a full-time babysitter. And she is not my sister.” He turned to the radio. Stopping the music abruptly only to feel his heart drop to his stomach when Neil grabbed him by the colar of his shirt and slammed him against the shelves beside the closet.
“What did we talk about?” Asked Neil in a condescending tone. Practically whispering it in Billy’s face.
The teenager panted in anger and fear. He couldn’t answer fast enough when Neil slapped him in his left cheek, making him groan.
Susan, who once again couldn’t leave the scenario only looked the other way, feeling guilty for putting him in that situation but not doing anything fearing she could be in his position.
Neil grabbed Billy’s chin to force him to look at him before pointing with the same hand. “What. Did. We… talked about?” He made emphasis in each word.
“Respect and responsibility.”
“That is right.” Answered the man, pleased to have him under control once again. “Now, apologies to Susan.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Neil waiting for Billy while the blonde swallowed his pride and fear. “I’m sorry, Susan.” He said, never tacking his eyes from his father’s.
“It’s okay, Neil, really-“ she was interrupted when the man once again rises his voice.
“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about his behavior is okay. But he’s gonna make up for it.” He grumbled the last part. He finally stepped back to turn to look at Susan. “He’s gonna call whatever whore he’s seeing tonight and cancel their date.” He said as if it was the most normal thing to say. “And then he’s gonna go find his sister. Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is.” He turned once again to his son, already finished with the humiliation. “Isn’t that right, Billy?”
Billy looked at his father with watery eyes hiding all that hate and anger he harbors towards the man. If only he could make him pay or just leave.
“It’s that right?” Yelled Neil when his first answer was only silence.
“Yes, sir.” He said softly.
Neil sighted in annoyance, leaning closer to his son. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”
“Yes. Sir.” He repeated. This time with more courage.
“Find max.” Demanded Neil with finality turning around and leaving the room, intimidating Susan enough for her to step away from his way.
Billy finally let the tears spill once the door was slammed close and hit the wall beside him. He hated him with all his being. He wanted to fight back, punch him or something, but the last time he tried to do it didn’t end well for him.
Sucking his feelings up and drying his tears, he left his room to the back of the house. He thanked the heavens he parked the car in the back really close to were he needs to go. The shed.
Faster than he thought, Billy reached the wooden door and gentler than he wanted to, he opened the door (still slamming it open). “Hey, brat.” He grumbled once inside.
Magnus raised his head looking at him with wide eyes. He knew it was Billy the one walking (stomping) towards the shed. But it still surprised him when the teenage barged in the shed and called for his attention, loudly.
Billy opened his mouth about to yell but stopped. He didn’t want to scare the kid that looked like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt and end up running around like a headless chicken looking for Max for scaring him, or for his father to find him hiding a kid in the shed and get his butt kicked.
Instead he took a breath before talking. “Where’s Max?”
The answer he got was the kid blinking in bewilderment hugging a comic to his chest.
“Ugh, for fucks…” he mumbled under his breath. “Do you know where is Max?” He repeated in a gentler voice, clearly containing his annoyance.
Magnus nodded his head slowly. Max told him to not talk to Billy if he didn’t speak to him first, she didn’t say anything about not telling him where she is.
Billy raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay, and?”
“The old junkyard.” He answered softly.
Damn. Now he is in trouble. He doesn’t know where that is. He slightly fidgeted in his place. “Do you know how to get there?”
Magnus nodded a slowly, still with the comic in his hands.
“Okay, then get in the car.”
Magnus instantly light up. He didn’t care that Billy used a commanding voice, he was just happy to get a raid again.
The kid quickly rushed out of the shed as silent as a mouse with an annoyed teenager following him.
Billy was already donde for the night, but unfortunately and unknown for him, it would be the longest and most eventful life of his entire life.
Hope you like the new rout I’m taking with this story.
#stranger things x male oc#stranger things x male reader#x male!reader#x male oc#child oc#child male reader#x child reader#billy hargrove#max mayfield#jim hopper#eleven hopper#stranger things#x male reader#stranger things x reader
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