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just-dreaming-marvel · 17 days ago

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Love That Burns ~ 23

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,230ish

Summary: Jean is found alive.

Warnings: Jean, mind control

Notes: So... I'm nervous for this chapter.... hope you still enjoy it....

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The next morning began as a regular morning. You and Logan got ready for the day and kissed each other goodbye before you went to teach your class, and Logan stayed by himself. You were in between classes when Charles’ voice rang out in everyone’s heads.

“Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott.”

You quickly ran down the hall, Ororo joining you, towards Charles’ office. Logan ran down the stairs, joining the two of you.

“What happened?” Ororo asked.

“No clue!” Logan answered.

The three of you burst into Charles’ office. He was in his wheelchair facing the window. He turned his head at your intrusion.

“Professor, you okay?” Logan asked.

“Get to Alkali Lake,” he responded.

The three of you didn’t waste a second. You and Ororo changed into your suits while Logan opted for his leather jacket. The jet was tense, with all three of you on edge. You and Ororo ended up flying the jet, with Logan standing behind you, a hand on your shoulder.

A dense fog covered Alkali Lake. You had to carefully land the jet in the fog. When you walked down the stairs out of the jet, you couldn’t see anything through the fog. Logan slipped his hand through yours once you two were on the ground.

“You don’t want to be here,” you stated.

“Do you?” Logan replied. You, Logan, and Ororo started walking forward. The whole area was extremely eerie. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

“I can take care of that,” Ororo said. She used her powers to clear the fog, revealing rocks floating in the air all around you.

“What the…” you breathed out.

Logan’s free hand came up and pushed one of the rocks away. Ororo began to walk around while you and Logan walked forward. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as his nerves grew. You suddenly stopped and gasped. Logan’s focus immediately shifted to you, though your eyes were locked on something ahead of you.

“What is it?” Logan wondered, clearly concerned.

“Scott,” you said, growing emotionally.

Logan’s head snapped in the direction you were looking. There, floating in the air, were Scott’s protective glasses. His face dropped as he took the glasses in his hand.

“Logan! Y/N!” Ororo screamed.

The two of you hurried over. You stumbled to a stop when you saw Jean’s body laid out on the rocks next to the water. Logan’s hand ripped from yours as he went and knelt beside Jean and Ororo.

“She’s alive,” Ororo stated.

“Jean?” You questioned, in complete shock.

Logan didn’t waste another second before scoping Jean up and carrying her back to the jet. Ororo was close behind, with you still frozen in your spot. Jean was alive. How? And where was Scott? You had felt Jean in your mind. Was that real? A hand brushing against your back caused you to jump away from the touch, flames burning from your fingertips.

“It’s just me, sweetheart,” Logan said, hand slightly up in defense.

You nodded, calming your flames down and going back to stare at the spot where Jean’s body was. Logan took cautious steps to you, making sure not to touch you right now.

“Come on,” he urged softly. “We need to get back so that the Professor can check Jean out.”

Without a word, you walked back to the jet. Logan sighed, following you closely. You found yourself sitting next to the stretcher that Jean was laid out on. Logan sat with Ororo at the front, leaving you to be alone with Jean.

The ride back to the mansion was completely silent, and before you knew it, you were down in the lab with Charles examining Jean’s brain.

“The sheer mass of water that collapsed on top of Jean should have obliterated her completely,” Charles explained. “The only explanation of Jean’s survival is that her powers wrapped her in a cocoon of telekinetic energy."

“Is she gonna be okay?” Logan wondered.

“Jean Grey is the only class five mutant I’ve ever encountered, her potential practically limitless. Her mutation is seated in the unconscious part of her mind, and therein lay the danger. When she was a girl, I created a series of psychic barriers to isolate her powers from her conscious mind. And, as a result, Jean developed a dual personality.”

“What?”

“The conscious Jean, whose powers were always in her control, and the dormant side, a personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself the Phoenix—-a purely instinctual creature, all desire and joy and rage.”

“She knew all this?”

“It’s unclear how much she knew.”

Logan turned to you. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes,” you responded quietly. He was clearly growing upset.

“Far more critical is whether the woman in front of us is the Jean Grey wet now or the Phoenix furiously struggling to be free,” Charles said.

“She looks pretty peaceful to me,” Logan noted.

“Because I’m keeping her that way. I’m trying to restore the psychic blocks and cage the beast again.”

“What have you done to her?”

Logan’s tone made you flinch. Your arms wrapped around you, trying to comfort yourself while you watch Logan fall apart over Jean. You had been so sure about him choosing you that Jean was never really an option. Was that all a lie you told yourself?

“Logan, you have to understand—“

“You’re talkin’ about a person’s mind here,” Logan interrupted Charles’ explanation, “about Jean.”

“She has to be controlled.”

“Control? You know, sometimes when you cage the beast, the beast gets angry.”

“You have no idea. You have no idea of what she’s capable of.”

“No, Professor. I had no idea what you were capable of.” Logan looked back at you. “And you’re okay with this?”

“I—“

“This is a terrible choice I have to make,” Charles cut you off, trying to take Logan’s anger away from you. “I chose the lesser of two evils.”

“Well, it sounds to me like Jean had no choice at all,” Logan retorted.

“I don’t have to explain myself, least of all to you.”

“You’re really going to let him play with Jean’s mind, Y/N?”

“It’s for the best,” you told him, trying to remain calm.

Logan scoffed. “Seriously? Does he have you brainwashed, too?”

You clenched your jaw, standing there for a moment, before rushing out of the room. You couldn’t deal with this right now.

Logan reached out his hand to stop you, but he wasn’t able to get any more words out. This wasn’t about you. His anger shouldn’t have been aimed at you. Logan was concerned about Jean and what may have happened to Scott. He also hated the idea of Charles playing with Jean’s mind—Jean’s memories. It was due to his own past, and deep down he understood that Charles would never do something without great reason.

But, most importantly, Logan was worried about you. You had admitted to feeling Jean in your mind last night, and he had pushed it aside. What would have happened if Logan had listened to you? Would Scott be here? Would Jean be completely okay and awake? And how exactly were you feeling about all this?

With determined steps, Logan exited the lab and went in search of you. But you seemed to have disappeared. You weren’t in the Danger Room, any classrooms, or a bedroom. He began to wander the gardens, still with no sight of you. Logan was growing more and more concerned about where you could be and how you were.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked Ororo upon running into her back in the school.

She shook her head. “Not since I left the lab,” she replied. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Maybe you’re just missing her. Perhaps she’s back in the lab with Jean.”

Logan nodded, turning around to head back down there. If he couldn’t find you there, he was going to ask Charles to use Cerebro to look for you. It didn’t make any sense. How could you have disappeared?

In the lab, Jean was lying there alone, a new device on her head to track her brain waves. Walking closer, Logan went to check on her. He reached out to touch her only for Jean’s hand to quickly grab his wrist. The device over her head moved as she opened her eyes.

“Jean,” Logan said.

Jean looked at Logan. “Hey, Logan,” she whispered.

“Welcome back.”

She let his wrist go, glancing around the room. “Back where we first met. Only I was in your place, and you were in mine.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah… More than okay.” Logan watched as she pulled off the monitors. It wasn’t in any sexual manner; he was just watching her movements. “Logan, you’re making me blush.”

“I wasn’t—“

“Don’t worry, I don’t have to read your thoughts to know what you’re thinking.”

“Jean, I wasn’t—“

“It’s okay.”

Jean sat up. Her legs moved so that Logan was standing between them. Logan knew that this wasn’t right. He didn’t care for Jean like she was making it seem, but he suddenly felt like he had no control over his body. He couldn’t move and something was convincing him that he didn’t want to.

Jean slowly leaned closer until her lips brushed against Logan’s. She grabbed his head forcefully when he tried to pull away, using her powers to keep him there. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled down his shirt, all while still forcing her kiss upon him. The screens and machines in the lab began to change as Jean’s power grew outward.

Logan’s mind was fighting an inner battle. There was the part of the brain that he still had control over. The one that was screaming at him to throw Jean away. But Jean was creeping in from the other side of the brain, the part she was already in control of.

Jean used her powers to pull Logan down and onto the stretcher, making sure he was on top of her. She scratched down his shoulders, causing large gashes. Logan pulled away, moaning at the feeling. Jean quickly brought his head down for another heated kiss.

~~~

You had run off down to the nearby store for some alcohol. You knew that you and Logan would need it, and you needed some time away to try and clear your mind. Figuring that Logan was still in the lab with Jean, you headed straight down there with your 6-pack of beer. But as soon as the lab doors opened, your world shifted.

There Logan was, on top of the stretcher, heavily making out with Jean. The 6-pack went crashing to the floor, shattering everywhere. Logan and Jean jumped, both looking in your direction. Logan’s mind suddenly cleared, and he jumped off the stretcher.

“Y/N, it’s not—“

But you wouldn’t listen to Logan. You covered your mouth as the sobs began and ran out of the lab. Logan tried to follow after you, but Jean wasn’t allowing him to leave.

“Let me go,” Logan growled as Jean forced him to turn to face her. “Jean, this isn’t you.”

“Yes. Yes, it is me,” she replied, kissing him again.

“No,” he pulled his head away, fighting harder against her control. “Maybe you ought to take it easy, huh? The Professor said you might be different.”

“He would know, wouldn’t he?”

“What?”

“You think he’s not in your head, too? Look at you, Logan. He’s tamed you.”

“He’s not the one that’s tamed me, and you know that… where’s Scott?” Suddenly, Jean’s eyes shifted from being more black to her normal color and her face dropped. “Jean?”

“Where am I?” Her tone changed to soft and confused as she looked around the room.

“You’re in the mansion. You need to let me go and tell me what happened to Scott.” Pulling at her power, he got his hand to move to Scott’s glasses that were in his pocket. He pulled them out to show her. “Jean, tell me what happened to him.”

“Oh, God.” Her eyes closed, and the room began growing haywire.

“Look at me.” Logan placed his hands on either side of Jean’s face. “Jean, stay with me. Talk to me. Look at me. Look at me!”

“No!” Jean cried, tears running down her cheeks.

“Focus! Focus, Jean!”

“Kill me…”

“What?”

“Kill me before I kill someone else… before I hurt any more people.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Please.”

“Stop it.”

“Kill me.”

“It’ll be all right. We can help you. Okay? The Professor can help. He can fix it.”

Jean’s eyes suddenly changed to black, as did the veins in her face. “I don’t want to fix it!”

With her powers, she threw Logan across the lab. Logan hit the wall, knocking he out, before falling to the floor. Jean destroyed the lab door as she headed out.

“Logan!” Ororo ran into the lab, with Charles following.

“Jean?” He sat up. “Y/N!”

“What happened?”

“What have you done?”

“She got in my mind,” Logan explained, panting. “She forced me to— Y/N… she saw… I think Jean killed Scott.”

“What?” Ororo questioned. “That’s not possible.”

“I warned you,” Charles said before closing his eyes and trying to connect with Jean. “She’s left the mansion, but she’s trying to block my thoughts. She’s so strong. It may be too late.”

next chapter >

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fleurriee · 1 year ago

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— protection duty ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader

synopsis ; it had been a few months now since you found out you were pregnant, and the paranoia of your mate can either be sweet or... annoying.

word count ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, slight angst???, established relationship (mates).

warnings ; reader experiencing abdominal pains, overbearing neteytam if that counts but we'll continue to love him anyway???

author’s note ; the entire time i was writing this i had baby fever... what do i need to do to get my own neteyam?? this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!

previous part ; next part

dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

"Here, let me."

For almost the entire day, you had found yourself confound to the same surrounding walls of the Tsahik tent. The predicament of being pregnant - let alone with the heir to the Olo'eyktan of the Omitkaya clan - was something you definitely hadn't seen coming. Of course, you understood their worries, but when it started to become a constant reoccurrence, it seemed a little too much.

You absolutely appreciated every gesture the clan offered you - whether it was helping you walk across the way, helping you sit down, helping you collect your food. It was endearing, but sometimes, you wished you could go back to the girl you were before, the one who could do things for herself without the fear of being coddled.

Obviously you had regular check ups with Mo'at to ensure everything was going smoothly with both yourself and your baby. This mainly included instances where she would poke and prod against your body, keeping her ears close to hear anything particular, calling out signs from Ewya that spoke of a blessing.

Today, however, was different.

Stupidly, you had accidentally let slip that you had begun to feel slight aches around your stomach. There wasn't anything specific about these pains, either, which made them more difficult to hide - they could occur at any part of the day, no matter who you were with or what you were doing, and you could only discreetly wince so much until it was becoming too much to bear on your own.

A small part of you was relieved by your own slip up to the Tsahik - that way, you had someone to confide in, who you could talk your problems away to and would understand. You were too nervous to tell Neteyam, already knowing the exact reaction he'd have. It wasn't as though you could have asked for a better mate by your side as you slowly started to take this journey together, but he was extremely protective.

And, you could understand his protectiveness when it came to the two of you - this was your first child, the first time you would be experiencing this path, and thankfully, you were doing it together. But, when his hands wouldn't leave your figure, keeping his steps directly next to your own, you had to start biting back your snaps. You didn't want to fight with him, after all, this was his baby, too, but despite doing this together, the stress hanging upon your shoulders and aching against your lower back was becoming too much.

So, when you let slip of your pains to Mo'at, the protectiveness you had seen in Neteyam had slowly started to transfer to his grandmother, clear as day as to where both himself and his mother got such a trait from in the first place. In an instant, she was rushing over to your figure, hands pressing against your stomach to spot the signs that you couldn't even if you had tried. You could see it clear as day when her gaze lingered on your own - this was her grandson's first born child, and all she wanted was for her family to be happy.

Thankfully, nothing had been wrong. With a smile full of reassurance directed solely at you, Mo'at had ensured you that the pains were natural due to the position your child was laying in - they were putting more pressure against your back than normal, but it was nothing to worry about. Such a revelation had you feeling insanely relieved, hands resting gently against your stomach as you rubbed your fingers to and fro. Already your child was up to no good.

But, in the end, her worries won over, and she insisted that you spend the day with her, just to hold any precautions necessary. You had sighed in reluctance, not wanting to get in the way of the Tsahik with her day-to-day tasks, but one warning look was all it took for you to agree, albeit, grumbling under your breath.

It wasn't too long after that when Kiri entered the tent, ready to work alongside her grandmother. Upon spotting you, she gave you a questioning expression, one you just answered with a subtle shake of your head, insinuating you'd rather not get into it right then. She didn't mind, instantly beginning her training as you watched on.

That was how the day panned out for you - sitting comfortably with your legs crossed, hands resting on top of your stomach, secure, back finally getting the rest it was screaming out for as you leant against a table. Every now and again, you would share input based on the training you were receiving before having them put on hold due to falling pregnant. It was nice, calming.

It wasn't as though there was much else you could do, especially considering your condition. Neteyam was out all day - he had grumbled and hissed at his father for forcing him away from his mate when she needed him the most, but all it took was Jake insisting that he needed to provide for his family more so than ever before, meaning he had to go out and hunt with the rest of those responsible with such a task. Leave it to Neteyam to step up to a mighty, protective role - he'd do anything for the two of you, that much was obvious.

Towards the end of the day, you had received another visitor - Neytiri. Throughout your pregnancy so far, your mother-in-law had been nothing but kind, understanding, nurturing. You felt at peace when you were around Neytiri, the woman always ensuring you were happy and okay before asking any other questions. She knew first hand what it was like to go through what you were, especially as a figurehead to the entire clan, and she'd be damned if she were to let you crumble under the weight of it all.

Neytiri greeted both her mother and her daughter before making her way over to you, squatting down and asking how you were. The question bought you ease and solace, wrapped within the comforts of a fellow mother's warm embrace. She'd brought you some fruits, too, for your dinner that night, stating that not only were they deliciously beautiful, but that they had properties within them that could help ease any potential pains you may been feeling. For a split second, you panicked, wondering whether your winces hadn't been all that discreet in the end, and waiting for the inevitable scolding you'd receive for not seeking help immediately. Instead, she only continued to smile softly at you, placing the bowl down near you and subtly asking for permission to place her hands against your stomach.

This was something Neytiri loved to do - she said being close to a child still in the womb like this was comforting for both the mother and the baby, the both of them relishing in the embrace of knowing they were never alone, that they had a family - an entire clan - standing behind them, ready to receive them home. And, she was right, like she always is. Such a gesture caused you relaxation, the constraints dispersing within the seconds until it was like they were never there at all.

You had left not long after that, stating that you needed to get back home before Neteyam did to ensure he had some food waiting for him after a gruelling day of hunting. Before you could leave the tent, Mo'at had shot up from her position, gesturing you closer to her and doing something similar to what Neytiri had done earlier. Mo'at was breathing in deeply, eyes closed as she spoke to the will of Ewya. When the Tsahik did this, you couldn't help but worry for a short second that maybe something was wrong, but the pleasant smile etched into the elder Na'vi's lips forced all those thoughts away into oblivion.

Finally, you were on your way home, a small bowl of fruits in one hand and the other on top of your protruding stomach that was beginning its little renditions of rumbling. The sweet scent of the food just below you were invading your scenes, and you were sure you had never smelled anything sweeter, a pure smile of bliss painted upon your features.

That was when Neteyam came.

He was by your side in an instant, the warmth of his body radiating through to your own, hands moving subconsciously towards the bowl to take it from your own grasp. Looking over at him, it was clear as day he hadn't been to a healing tent like they were supposed to after every hunt, even if it was just to get checked out. Neteyam had no scratches on him, of course, but he was a little filthy, chest heaving with panting breaths, sweat beading upon the top of his head. He must've seen you on your way home.

"Neteyam," you chastised him, keeping the bowl tight in your hold. "I can carry it-"

"It's fine, yawne (beloved)," he replied, shaking his head, adamant. His gaze was piercing as he looked intently down at you, unrelenting in his actions - it was obvious he wasn't going to give in, not like you wanted him to. "I'll do it for you."

You grumbled to yourself, eyes rolling in disbelief at such a level of protectiveness emanating from your mate - you understood it sometimes, but this was ridiculous. "It is only a bowl of fruit."

With a playful shrug, he smirks, knowing he's starting to get on your nerves with the way he's acting, but clearly not caring enough to stop himself. There was nothing on both the world of Pandora and all the galaxies around that could stop him from treating you with the upmost care and compassion as a mate and father-to-be should. If anything were to happen to you, he'd never forgive himself, even if the perpetrator was a bowl of fruit. "And, what type of Na'vi would I be if I didn't help my pregnant mate?"

There's no chance to retaliate against him - in an instant, he's moving over to your tent, opening the flap of the entrance open with his arm as he gestures you to walk through. The sight of him sends shivers down your spine, your mind creating images of nights you'd spent intimately together - the way he was such a gentleman towards you, so caring and doting, had you practically frothing at the mouth. Not that he'd do anything with you now, though.

Shaking your head in mock displeasure, you walked into your tent, grumbling as you went, eyeing him with slight annoyance of him prohibiting you from practically everything. You loved him for it, of course you did, but no matter how annoyed you'd become at each overbearing action, the two of you knew he wasn't going to stop, so what was the point in arguing when it was only going to be a losing battle?

Moving further into your tent, you walk around the middle where a small table had been both built and set up by Neteyam just after you moved in. It was ritual that you always ate together there, sharing stories of your day and wondering what the next one would bring. It always brought you sadness when Neteyam couldn't make it - there had been several times since moving in together that he had to go out on a hunting trip for days, but his family were always sure to invite you to their meal, not wanting you to be alone.

Standing in your usual spot, you watched in your peripheral as Neteyam started to tie the entrance closed, wanting the two of you to have as much privacy and time to be your true selves together. You started to bend your knees, arms preparing to catch your weighted figure on the way down when another sharp pain pierced right against your abdomen, sending jolting sensations right to the bottom of your toes. An agonizing hiss escaped past your lips before you could remember to stop yourself, too busy focusing on the pain bearing down on you, knees wobbling as you struggled to hold yourself up right.

Immediately, Neteyam was by your side, bowl shoved to the floor carelessly, its contents spilling about the place. His protective side washed over him, glazing him over in a red light until all he was doing was panicking. He took note of your scrunched up features, the way your brows furrowed, eyes wrenched shut, legs unsteady. Gently, but with a rush of urgency, he placed one hand to the back of your neck, willing your head to look up at him, to focus on him, and the other on top of your plump stomach, fondly caressing the skin with his thumb. "What is it - what's wrong, yawne (beloved)?"

You give yourself a minute to catch your breath, shaking your head and willing yourself back to the present, mind relentlessly reminding yourself that it's okay, Mo'at said it's fine. Still, you don't move, staying in his arms that brought you such a strong feeling of safety. "It is nothing, my muntxa (mate), just a bit of pain." You swallow deeply, the pain beginning to subside. "Your grandmother said it is normal." Looking up at him, you instantly recognised both the hesitance and concern rooted deeply within his gaze, eyes slightly crinkled and a crease between his brows. It didn't matter how many times you told him the same thing now, he'd be by your side constantly. "It's okay, ma'teyam. Let me just-"

You attempted to unwind yourself from his arms, going to try and sit down again so you could start the meal that should have been completed ages ago now. But, Neteyam wouldn't let you, noticing exactly what you were doing and not allowing it. Whilst his grip on your delicate figure tightened just a little, he shook his head vehemently. "No, no. I will do our food tonight, muntxate (wife)."

Guilt started to cleave away at your mind - Neteyam had surely had a long day, no doubt only wanting to be home and within your arms, surrounding by his own growing family, appetite full from a meal you had made. Yet, here he was, insisting he make the food for the two of you - well, three of you - despite the tiredness clearly shown on his features. "Neteyam, really-" you sighed.

"Please, my syulang (flower)." He begged, the desperation evident in his tone of voice, and it only ached your heart more. The soft sensation of his thumb continuously rubbing against your stomach paired along with the compassion in his gaze, never once faltering from your own, already had you agreeing with him. "Let me do this for you." His voice was soft, words spoken tenderly, like speaking any louder might've hurt you or the baby.

With his head resting gently upon your own, you felt yourself beginning to fall down the path that was only filled with him. How could you say no to such a request when he was desperate to provide for you, wanting to be the head of his own family that he couldn't wait to watch grow with you by his side?

You nod, causing a slow but bright smile to be casted upon his lips. His hands don't move from your body, instead making their way around your figure until he has you turned around, situated in front of him and guiding you over to the mat the two of you share. Actions considerate of the potential pain you could still be in, he starts to help you lower yourself down, one hand against the small of your back, and the other not having once moved from your stomach, from your baby. His touch was as though he was protecting them from the world, from anything daring enough to threaten them - Ewya help whoever would when they cross Neteyam.

Placed gently upon your mat, comfortably in the same position you continue to find yourself in - legs crossed over one another and arms wrapped around the entirety of your stomach - your mate stood above you, looking down at you lovingly. Sending you a warm smile, he placed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, before eventually parting and moving back over to the bowl of discarded fruit.

You watch him as he works, preparing his family's dinner, hands moving deftly about the table's surface. He made sure to give you a bigger portion now that you were technically eating for two, adding in the fruits he instantly knows were from his mother after having seeing them all the time when growing up. Every now and again, he'll aim his attention back over to you, no doubt checking on you and making sure you're comfortable and okay, only to find your eyes automatically following his every move. He chuckles to himself, his tail twitching at the way he can gain such a loving reaction from you, willing his attention back to his task.

You just can't help yourself when he looks like that - the way the domesticity oozes from him so deliciously only has you buzzing with excitement. Just the thought of what he'll be like when the baby eventually does arrive causes your flesh to rise, your heart fluttering widely. If you'd have known he could only get more attractive during a time like this, you might've given yourself more warning - then again, you knew nothing could really prepare you for the man before you.

Before you know it, Neteyam is up and making his way over to you, gently cupping your portion of food and handing it over to you. Hurriedly, he goes back for his own, settling himself down beside you, knees touching and warmth excruciating. You smile widely at him at the way he's treating you, slowly beginning to come to terms with his protectiveness - as he said, it's his job as both your mate and the soon-to-be father of the family. Bringing the food up to your mouth, you take a small bite, relishing in the tastes it exudes, loving the mixture Neteyam had made just for you.

A moan of delight falls from your lips, eyes peeling back open to fall upon him, attention already locked on you. "Thank you, ma'teyam."

He smiles warmly back at you, savouring the way you look at him. Happiness washes over him that you enjoyed the meal he rushed for you, only now hoping that his baby enjoyed some of it, too. Nodding, you watch as some of braids fall into his face. "Of course, my muntxate (wife). I'll always take care of my girls."

Such words have you raising your eyes, pointedly looking straight at him. You can feel your ears twitch as you process the exact thing he had just softly spoken to you. "Your girls?" you question, teasingly smiling, but unable to hide the pure adoration peeking through your façade. With a free hand, you start to rub against your stomach, part of you hoping against all odds that your unborn baby could hear their parents. "Who says they are a girl, hmm?"

Shrugging, Neteyam takes another bite of his food, speaking with his mouth full. When he's outside, in front of the clan, he can't do things like this - he can't show off his childish side and be the Na'vi he feels he truly is. He has to put on a front, but not with you - never with you. Allowing him to show himself off like this, has only ever made him love you more. "Father's intuition."

You laugh loudly at his reasoning. "Father's intuition?" you repeat, shaking your head at him. "And, what about the mother's intuition?"

The teasing between you only continues to go back and forth, a smile full of adoration playing on his lips. Shaking his head, he leans closer to you, voice quiet but tender. "I know I'm not normally right about these things," he begins, giddiness starting to wash over you as you watch his every move, "but, this I definitely am."

Heart warm and mushy, your mind begins to show you quick images of a future that could be waiting for you - Neteyam swinging your unborn daughter in the air, her little, high-pitched giggles loud within the clan; Neteyam walking around with her all day, showing off everything her sempu (father) does to help provide and feeling proud when she shows interest; Neteyam wanting to teach her absolutely everything, wishing her to be fierce and independent, but not so much so she was unsafe or didn't feel the need to confide with her parents.

You can't help but look up at him like he's the one who hung all the stars in the sky, like he was the embodiment of Ewya herself.

Eyes still penetrating him, mind still hazy with beautiful images, you bite your lip, unable to hide the growing smile that's evident of the way he speaks about your family. "I guess a girl does sound nice."

Breathlessly laughing, he finishes off his portion, gesturing for you to each as much of yours as you could - he knew sometimes, despite always ensuring you gave yourself a larger portion, that you struggled to finish a full meal. When you ate all you wanted, he took the discarded leftovers, placing them in the bowl his mother sent and leaving it on the side. Now back with you, you look up at him, wondering what his plan is to do next. You can't say you're entirely surprised when he bends low beside you, picking you up in his arms and beginning to lay you back against the mat with care, assuring that you weren't in any pain.

Since moving in together and decorating your tent exactly how the two of you loved it, making sure it felt exactly like home, Neteyam had insisted that he would be the one to sleep on the outside of the mat, leaving you encased between your mate's body and the side of the tent. You never had any disagreements with his arrangements, but you'd asked him why out of curiosity, with him explaining that if anything were to happen, he could protect you before they could threaten you. You remember feeling giddy at his confession at the time, and now that you were pregnant, that had only reached ten-fold.

You lay on your back, waiting for Neteyam to make himself comfortable beside you; one arm placed under your head, acting as a pillow, and the other situated right where it always found itself - upon your stomach. His hand moved almost subconsciously, rubbing soothingly against your skin, drawing patterns and wondering if his baby could tell he was near.

Like a routine now, Neteyam doesn't allow himself even a single moment to think about falling asleep, no matter how tired he is or how much he wishes to float away, dreaming of you and your baby. Instead, he lifts himself forward, resting his head just inches away your stomach, and speaks softly, whispering the words into your skin so they can hear every word he has to say to them. "I love you, ma'evenge (my girl). Goodnight, and make sure to be kind to your mother so she can get some good rest, too."

Chuckling at his words, Neteyam lies back down, situating himself right by your side, snuggling in closer to you. He cups his hand against your cheek, bringing you in for a loving kiss, one that had you feeling a tingle of excitement.

Pulling away from you, your mate stares intently into your eyes. "Promise me you will tell me when you feel pain like that again."

You melt into his embrace, head snuggling into the palm of hand, sighing in defeat. "Neteyam," you relent, bringing your own hand up to run up and down his chest in smoothing patterns, attempting to calm his worries. "Your grandmother - the Tsahik - said it is perfectly normal to get them every now and again when-"

Neteyam shakes his head, refusing. His eyes are narrowed, adamant. "No, I do not care if they are normal, for whatever reason." His words have you stumped, watching him without breaking away from his gaze. "I need to know what you are feeling, and I need to help you through it." Blinking, you can feel a build-up of tears at the way he speaks to you, so caring, so devoting. "As your muntxa (mate), and as a sempu (father)."

You can't help but feel bad for having put him in this situation in the first place - you know now, with how achingly clear it is, that telling Neteyam of your growing pains was always what you should've done to begin with. It didn't matter how protective he got over the two of you, because his intentions were always clear - to keep you safe and healthy. For you to have denied that of him was wrong.

Licking your lips, you breathe in relief, looking up at him tenderly, eyes alight. "Okay, ma'teyam," you relent, "I will - I promise."

Leaning up slightly, you press a feather-light kiss along his jaw, feeling him starting to relax from beneath your touch. You pull away and spot the tiredness beginning to take over him entirely, so you snuggle in closer to him, your head nestling into the crook of his neck and allowing him was to engulf you whole. His tail moves against you, wrapping itself from around Neteyam and coiling over your bulging stomach, body subconsciously feeling the need to protect his mate and baby.

With a sigh of relief, the two of you allow sleep to invade your senses, slipping off into a world of pure bliss that you can only hope will be a part of your futures.

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achilles-rage · 15 days ago

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thirteen crows: chapter seven

summary: buck and eddie continue to keep you company, until you find something interesting at buck's apartment.

word count: 3.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the second last chapter already, that’s so crazy😵‍💫 i love how this turned out and i’m so sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to happen hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: stalking, slight noncon, buck being crazy (cutely<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

As the weeks go by, you start to feel less on edge about your situation. People are still dropping dead around the city, and you’d be lying if you said the details of the murder didn’t cause chills to run down your spine, but you don’t know any of the people. For some reason, you find it a little bit easier to sleep at night knowing this.

Buck and Eddie have been a tremendous help to your feelings of comfort and safety, too. Not only do they walk you home from work every night, except for when they’re working, of course, but one of them makes sure they’re at your home or you’re at theirs most of the time.

Tonight, Eddie’s at your house while Buck babysits his niece and Christopher. He’s made you dinner; nothing special because he’s not nearly as skilled in the kitchen as Buck, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You park yourselves on your couch, your leg partly over his as you sit cross-legged beside him, which is making it painstakingly hard for him not to pull you over his lap and press hot, open mouth kisses down your neck.

“There’s more here. You want any sweet- heart?” you hear him ask loudly when he goes to the kitchen to get you both some water. You’re so engrossed in the show you put on that you don’t think too hard about the pause between sweet and heart. You smile, shaking your head, although he’s not able to see you from the kitchen.

“No, thanks!” you yell back, and Eddie can’t even answer. His hands are gripping the side of the counter as he bows his head, taking deep, steady breaths. He almost fucked up. Like, really fucked up. His jaw is clenched as he tries to calm himself down; he knows you’ll get curious if he spends too long in the kitchen. But he knows how badly it would’ve gone if he let his words actually slip, which makes it hard for him to slow his racing heart.

He remembers the realization on your face when they called you sweet girl as they killed Isaac. He knows that you’d put two and two together. You’re their smart, sweet girl, of course you’d fucking put it together.

After a minute, he comes back into the living room with two cups of water, and you thank him absentmindedly, barely even glancing at him before your eyes are back on your show. He lets out a long exhale as he lowers onto the couch beside you, extremely grateful that you hadn’t caught on.

He knows he’d be able to come up with a plan, but he’s extremely happy that he doesn’t have to now. He’s enjoying his time with his sweet girl, and he doesn’t want to cut it short by using one of her own knives to shut her up. The thought does make his dick twitch though, and he grips his fork tighter as he pictures it.

When you’ve both finished your dinner, he pulls your legs onto his lap, patting the top of your thigh gently as he gives you a soft smile. You feel the heat rushing up your neck as you feel his fingers grazing your inner thigh, but you smile back at him anyway.

“Thank you for being here.” you say in a quiet voice after a little while. He looks over to see you laying back on the couch, legs still over his lap, and fighting hard to keep your eyes open. He chuckles softly, and he can’t resist the urge to reach a hand over and cup your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently.

He smirks when he sees you lean into his touch, and he’s not sure what he likes more; your eyes full of terror, or you looking so soft and safe with him here.

“You don’t have to thank me. We told you we’d protect you, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” he tells you, his voice slightly rough even though it’s full of care. You smile, and your eyes finally close as you rest your head completely on the backrest of the couch.

“I’m losing you here, honey. You should go to sleep.” he teases quietly, hand still caressing your cheek. You smile, although your eyes are still closed, and nod, mumbling a soft “okay” before you stand up slowly.

He helps you get to your bedroom, then when you’re happily tucked into bed, he turns off your light and goes back to your living room. He takes your dishes to the kitchen and cleans up the mess, moving silently as he tries to distract himself from your plush body in the next room.

He groans softly when he goes to check on you an hour later, and if he didn’t already have a plan, he’d call Buck and tell him to come over right now so they can have their way with you.

He knows they can’t, though. He told you earlier that he was going to spend the night, and if the two masked men snuck into your apartment while Eddie was supposed to be there, he knows that you would either never trust them again, or you’d figure them out, or both.

So, he goes back to your living room and makes himself comfortable as he lays on your couch. If it were up to him, he’d be in bed with you, arms wrapped firmly around your soft middle. He knows he can’t, though; he doesn’t want to move too quickly.

As if someone decided to answer his prayers, he hears your frantic voice from the other room, calling his name.

He’s in your room in an instant, sitting beside you on the bed as he cups your cheek and rubs his thumb across your skin again, shushing you softly. He tries to act concerned as he takes in your tear-stained face, but he loves the sight, and when you ask him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard if he’ll stay with you, he smirks.

He lays beside you, getting under your blankets and wrapping a large arm around your waist, pulling his chest flush against your back. When he’s sure you’re asleep, he whispers in your ear in a gruff voice.

“Good night, sweet girl.”

The next morning, your bed is cold, and when you sit up, you see the note on your bedside table. If it weren’t there, you’d assume you dreamed the entire night. Eddie’s always so sweet, of course, but he was so good to you last night. You feel a little embarrassed about asking him to sleep with you, but after the dream you had of the men terrorizing you, you certainly don’t blame yourself.

You feel a little more on edge this morning, though, even though Eddie’s note told you that Buck would be coming by later in the afternoon to keep you company. Last night, you could barely tell what was a dream and what wasn’t. You swear that as you were about to fall back asleep, you could hear the men’s voices, and the name they call you, although you know it couldn’t be. Eddie was right there.

You feel like your dreams are bleeding into your real life, and for the rest of the day, even after Buck comes over, you feel a little extra jumpy. Buck hardly notices though. He’s so excited to have you taste test his improved brownie recipe that he doesn’t notice the way you jump when he drops his phone right in front of you.

Almost a week later, you’re at Buck’s apartment. It’s almost sunset, and you’re still sleepy from staying up so late. You’re still in your pajamas, and your eyes feel heavy with sleep as you lounge around his place.

You worked the night before, an earlier shift than the closing ones you’re used to, and when Buck got you back to his apartment, he insisted on having a “sleepover,” as if that wasn’t what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. When you got to his house, he made you shower and change into pajamas, and when you went down to his living room, he had popcorn, chocolate, chips, and sour candies spread across the coffee table.

Your heart had swelled at the sight of him looking so proud of himself, and you couldn’t help snuggling up to him when you sat on the blanket-covered couch beside him. Your head stayed in place on his shoulder the entire night, and by the end of the first movie, his hand had made itself firmly at home on your thigh.

You both stayed up until almost 5am, and when you woke up the next day, well into the afternoon, his head was laying back at an awkward angle on the couch and your head was resting in his lap.

Now, you’re sitting at his kitchen table, one leg crossed under the other as you text Tara, laughing silently about how her closing shift went with the new guy that was nice, as it turned out, but extremely stupid.

“Oh, before I forget; did I leave my sweater here a few days ago? The blue one?” you ask Buck after a few minutes, tearing your eyes away from your phone and looking over to him making dinner.

“Uh, yeah. It’s in my closet. I washed it for you. You got pasta sauce on it.” he tells you, turning and giving you a fake disappointed look as he says the last sentence. You roll your eyes, laughing softly as you stand up from the table.

“Well, thank you.” you begin in a sarcastic tone, “I’m gonna go grab it.”

Before he has a chance to respond, you’re dragging yourself up to his loft, still feeling a little groggy from staying up so late and sleeping through half of the day.

When you pull open his closet doors, you don’t see your sweater anywhere. Since you don’t want to distract Buck from dinner, you begin to move the clothes around, hoping that maybe your sweater had just fallen off a hanger or is hidden under some of his shirts that are hanging up.

You’re halfway into his closet now as you get on your knees, moving the various articles of clothing on the hardwood floor when you see a sliver of a very familiar mask. Your stomach drops as the shirt you’re holding finally moves away from the mask completely, and you drop the shirt as you kneel there, frozen.

It has to be a coincidence, you think. It can’t be Buck; he’s Buck.

Buck continues to absentmindedly get dinner ready as you go upstairs, and not even a minute later his eyes widen as he remembers what’s shoved in the back of his closet. His grip tightens on the knife he’s holding as he darts towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he races to his room.

You whip your head around when you hear him coming up the stairs and get up quickly, but not before Buck gets a perfect peek of you kneeling down from behind, your ass on display for his eager eyes.

Buck can see the uncertainty in your eyes as you stand up, and he knows you’ve found the mask. He takes a step closer, and his eyes darken as he sees you take a step back, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he takes in your sheepish demeanour.

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweet girl.” he growls as he takes another step closer. He knows he should play dumb, should make up a harmless story about it; it’s what Eddie would do, but he can’t help it. The look in your eyes is so close to fear, and it only makes him push further.

Tears form in your eyes when the realization hits you. The other night when Eddie was over, it wasn’t you dreaming. He had been the one to say it. You can see the predatory look in Buck’s eyes as he stalks towards you, and although you try to move away from the closet and further away from him, he’s still blocking the staircase.

You let out a soft whimper as your back hits the wall behind you, your whole body shaking as you watch him cross the distance between you.

When he finally gets to you, you have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes, your lip quivering as you speak.

“No. It can’t be you.” He smirks, his empty hand coming up to rest against the wall beside your head as the one with the knife slowly drags the blade across your neck and down towards your chest.

“It is, baby. Surprised?” he purrs, then leans down towards the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent. You shudder, turning your face away from his as tears fall from your eyes, and he chuckles again. The sound of his dark laugh makes your blood run cold, and in a split second, you’re darting around his large frame and trying to run for the staircase.

You need to get out of here. Now.

He grabs the back of your shirt before you can get far, however, and you yelp loudly as you’re pulled back against his hard body. You thrash against him, your frightened whimpers echoing through his apartment, but as soon as the knife moves up to your cheek, the sounds die on your lips.

“There we go, sweet girl. We’re not gonna hurt you. Not if you’re good for us.” he whispers in your ear, his other arm firmly around your plush middle. Your legs almost give out as you realize that you’re not getting out of his strong grip, and even if you do, you’re sure he isn’t planning on merely scaring you with that knife.

“Then take the knife off my neck.” you try to say sternly, but your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. He nibbles on your ear, a smile making its way onto his face.

“If I do, will you run?” he asks in an almost cocky tone. You shake your head quickly, and he smirks, lowering the knife from your neck hesitantly.

“You promise you’re gonna be good for me?” he asks, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver.

“Yes.” is all you say; it’s all you can force yourself to say. You’re sure that if it wasn’t for his strong body behind yours, your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up right now.

He throws the knife onto the bed a few feet away, then turns you in his grip, holding your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours.

You search his eyes for any signs of softness you’ve grown used to as he studies your face, but it’s long gone by now. His eyes are filled with lust, and he has a devilish smirk as he leans his head down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.

You freeze as you feel his lips working against yours, and it’s not until he lets out a low moan that you finally kiss him back, brain cloudy as you give in to him. You know there’s no way out now, so you might as well go along with his actions.

You hate to admit, but he’s an amazing kisser, and you immediately know who the more eager kisser was between the two masked men when they were in your apartment. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and one of his hands moves up to your jaw to tilt your face further up into the kiss.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this?” he murmurs against your lips, and you moan again at his words. You can feel the guilt eating away at you as you feel the familiar feeling of desire in the pit of your tummy and the pool between your thighs, and you hate yourself for being so turned on by how desperately he’s kissing you.

He’s just so attractive, and he’s so eager to have his hands and lips on you that you can’t help the inappropriate thoughts filling your brain.

“I knew when I saw you at work that I had to have you.” he mutters, pulling back just long enough to take in your tear-stained cheeks and heaving chest.

As he leans back in to place kisses on your neck, you suddenly snap out of it. He killed Grace. And Isaac. Right in front of you.

You continue to let him kiss you, however, and when his grip loosens on you for a split second, you’re pushing him away and racing towards the stairs again. His brain is so fogged over with his need for you, that it takes him a second to respond. He grabs the knife off the bed and follows you down the stairs, an angry expression on your face.

You make it all the way to the kitchen before he’s on you again, grabbing your hips and throwing you to the ground. You yelp in pain as you hit the ground, but roll over quickly, trying to fight him off you as he kneels down to straddle your hips.

He dropped his knife in the struggle to pin you down, so when he’s finally over top of you, looking down with a devious smile, he has to improvise.

You feel the air ripped from your lungs as his hands go to your throat, tightening more and more as he watches you struggle to breathe. You’re still thrashing in his grip, but he keeps his hold strong until your movements become slow and sloppy.

As your eyes flutter closed and everything goes black, the last thing you see is him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and the last thing you hear is his rough voice saying “just let us take care of you, sweet girl.”

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nyarumie · 3 months ago

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Brains to Brawn. (Chapter 1)

narumi gen x f!reader — 1.7k words, co-workers to lovers, narumi loves kisses, multiple parts, semi canon compliant, in denial reader.

STATUS: Ongoing. Chapter links: 1, 2, 3

Author's Note at the end! Happy reading ♡

Cross-posted on ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

The shift in the tides of the First Division wasn't subtle. It wasn't the way the large bodies of water swayed with greater force against Ariake Maritime Base's sturdy walls, nor did it have to do anything with Regular Officers being transferred from one division to another.

The first change in the atmosphere was when Second Division Captain, Hikari Shinomiya, died. Tense. Strict. A single drop of needle could disrupt the entire defense force—ironically seeming so quiet despite the sounds emerging from the Officers' even more rigorous training.

The second wave of change felt rowdy, raucous—but hopeful. Narumi Gen had made quite the scenario even before officially joining the Defense Force. An unleashed combat power of 24% even without donning a suit at least once in his life, showing great aptitude potential for Kaiju No. 1 weapons, and... having a blatant display of disrespect and chaos, as the higher ups would describe. What seemed to be the hope of the nation turns out to be the First Division's biggest headache. Most times.

The third was when things started to be more obvious—to most people, a shift in leadership means a shift in everything. Shortly after Narumi joined the Defense Force, the Head of Operations eventually had to retire. Kurusu was given the prestige to be the young Head of Operations. At the same time, Narumi had already been appointed as a Platoon Leader, a sign that the youth will shoulder the fate of this country and power will emerge across all divisions.

The next wave is you.

From the previous year, the Defense Force's annual selection involved both Officers and Operators. You were tempted to apply in both, for simple reasons: As an operator, you know you're extremely smart—emerging at the top of your class in university and having reading as a hobby enhanced your intelligence.

On the other hand, you simply think it would be fun to try the Officer Selection Trial. Who knows? You were pretty athletic, diving here and there to save volleyballs on your university's sports fest. Hell, you even won an MVP award twice.

But you have bills to pay and concerts you'd love to attend, so you let the rational part of your brain win and opt for the safer option. With a fellow youngster like Kurusu leading the Operations, all worries about bonding with your co-workers were thrown out the window.

In fact, it seems like you went overboard with bonding with them. You all were friends and swore to do your job properly so as to stick together til the end, but how come you're the only one facing this... baffling scenario?

'A little fun in your normal working day as an operations manager won't hurt', they said.

'The captain won't find out about this anyway', another added.

You should've known that the normal working day applies only to your co-workers. You, on the other hand? It literally changed the trajectory of your life—for better or for worse. Internally groaning, you wondered why you didn't push harder when you were against their idea of 'fun'.

When your co-workers suggested doing something for fun, you never thought it would be testing out each other's unleashed combat power, if you even have them; you're all managing the operations, after all. Doing calculations in your head, you estimated you'd all be getting a percentage ranging from 1% to 3%.

After pleading with Kurusu for what felt like an hour, your little unassuming friend group got permission to use the combat power technology.

"I'm an MVP for volleyball in our University, y'know? If I get an 8%, maybe I can smash a ball or two on a yoju's head. Might get recruited on the spot too.", you said with humourous arrogance.

Your co-worker who was prepping the machine chimed in, "We don't have balls for weapons. And don't get your hopes up, the most you'll be getting is probably a 2%. It's impossible for anyone to get a 0% after all."

With a pout, you denied that you're hoping for a good result. You're pretty satisfied with your job, anyways. Good pay, safety secured—what else could you ask for?

"Alright, prep done. Who's up first?"

"Oh, I'll go! I proposed the idea, so I should be the one taking the first step!" said your enthusiastic co-worker. There were only 4 of you anyway, enough to fall into a line, letting yourself go last.

Sometime along your little fun, Kurusu entered the room, feeling uneasy about giving permission against official purposes. As expected, your friends got a range of 1% to 3%. They were all cheering as you got ready to lay down, as you were initially against the idea of having fun with these machines.

"Show us your 8%, then!" they laughed.

You rolled your eyes at them as your co-worker is sticking the device to certain pulse points to extract your body conditions.

"Keep your head straight and calm down. I'll activate it in a few minutes. We wouldn't want any irregularities in your readings—like you getting 8% from your volleyball experience." she snorted.

Following further instructions, you closed your eyes and kept your composure. It surprisingly felt comfortable, despite the hard surface. It's probably because you haven't slept well comfortably in so long.

"Extraction in 3, 2, and 1..."

It was Kurusu who surprisingly spoke this time. "Well... You almost got an 8. You're on 6%." he announced, still looking confused at the screen.

"Can somebody give me a gun? Or a sword?" you asked.

You thought their necks will snap at how fast they turned their heads to you. They looked at you as if you just had asked for the most incredulous thing, which in this case, does sound frightening.

"Gonna kill us for doubting you?", they joked. "What for, though?"

"Trying to see if I can get that combat power up if I hold those. We're already having fun here, wouldn't hurt to test a few more things, right? Just don't let anyone know of this, or we'll all lose our jobs." you said.

They turn to Kurusu, eyes hopeful, asking through their gazes if it's still within his given permission to issue weapons.

Curiosity piqued, he didn't hesitate giving approval this time. "Alright. Just do make sure to get some less powerful weapons." With a sigh, he mumbled, "My first year as head operator and I feel like I'll already lose my job..."

Once you were provided with your 'weapons', you were instructed by Kurusu this time. "Just hold them as naturally as you can. You may choose between the two weapons provided. Lay them down next to you if you don't want it tested."

Holding the gun in one hand, you heard their countdown go off again. You let yourself relax while waiting for the results.

"Huh. A small increase, but quite a feat. You're smart for suggesting to hold these weapons. It's actually now on 8%. Try the dagger."

You let go of the gun and did as you were told. It took you a while to get as natural as you can while holding the dagger, but decided to not put in any effort as you were just having some 'fun' anyways.

"...That was higher than the gun. 10%. You're unbelievable."

'What's so unbelievable about that?' you thought. Not a single result elicited any reaction from you. Hell, now-promoted Platoon Leader Narumi had a whopping 24% even as a normal civilian. Why would yours be any unbelievable? Maybe it's the first and only time an operations manager got this number. Who in their right mind would test this out for fun anyway?

"Hey, I'll try holding both of these. Let's end our fun and curiosity here." you announced. By this time, you just want this to end. But you are as intrigued as they are, hence suggesting a final test. For some reason, you felt yourself become uneasy at the last attempt. You know it never ends good whenever a sudden wave of uneasiness washes over you, so you force yourself to keep the relaxed state you were previously in.

From your peripheral vision, you saw Kurusu nod. You took both weapons in your hand. The procedure repeats, for the last time.

And then there was silence. You thought you fell asleep, but moved your fingers just to confirm you're still awake. Opening your eyes, you turn to look at your co-workers who were currently gawking at the huge screen.

"Um... You..." started Kurusu. "You uh, just got an 18% unleashed combat power with both weapons in your hold."

Oh.

Now that's unbelievable.

"...And our fun little session ends here! Can somebody assist me here so I can continue my work?" you asked in a rush.

"No. You stay there, I'm not done with your analysis. I'll have to command everyone to go back to their stations." Kurusu said, seriousness suddenly taking over his voice.

He continued speaking, "Not only do you have an 18% unleashed combat power, you also have a potential aptitude for Kaiju no. 3 cells."

It's as if your ability to speak was taken. 18% unleashed combat power sure is something for someone in your level, but to have an aptitude for an identified kaiju...? No wonder he asked them to leave. Word about this finding mustn’t spread, at least, not for now. Your co-workers are new in the job, so they probably don’t know how to identify an aptitude reading for identified Kaiju.

"Um... So... Do we report this to the Captain or something?" you hesitantly ask after a few minutes of blanking out. You don't know what else you can say at the moment, totally taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

Before Kurusu can even respond, you hear a voice coming from the doorway.

"Huh. No wonder those operators flocked out of the room in a hurry. I've spared you the job. The old man is already informed."

Your eyes widened, soul leaving your body upon hearing it. You know you'd have to eventually report this to the Captain, but this soon? And what's worse, that voice...

Standing lazily at the doorway with his phone in one hand is no other than the newly promoted Platoon Leader, Narumi Gen.

Author's Note(s):

My first fic! I've actually never wrote anything like this before, as I've only spent my entire life writing academic papers 😭 Thus, constructive criticism and feedbacks are always welcome!

I also apologize for any inaccuracies in the terminologies I used, my brain is pea-sized when it comes to some canon minor details.

I thought I'll be able to finish this in a single chapter, but I think a max of 3 wouldn't sound so bad. I can't write continuously or my head will explode omg

I'm not sure about the holding weapons thing, but I included it here based off how they tested Mina to have great aptitude for guns. I also recall a chapter saying Soshiro's combat power for firearms is so low, hence why he's a close quarters combatant.

Also, about the Kaiju No. 3 thingy, It's not gonna be canon compliant since we don't have any info on that identified Kaiju so I'll just be making stuff up for the sake of this fic lol.

#kaiju no. 8 #narumi gen x reader #kn8 writing #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #gen narumi #narumi gen fluff

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wosoimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Disappointment

part 8 of rivals

Jo has to deal with the disappointment of an injury.

3,295 words

previous part| |next part

I grinned as I waved to my teammates who were sitting up in the stands. I knew that many of them would be here, but I hadn’t expected them all to show. Many of them waved back to me.

It had been extremely lucky that the finals for our State Championship game was in the middle of the week. I knew that if it had been at the end of the week then none of my national teammates would have been able to make it.

Even some of the retired players had shown.

Jill being in the stands hadn’t been too surprising either. I had only started playing again during the State Tournament. I appreciated that she waited until now to come to watch me playing. It allowed me to get my bearings especially as I had only been called up as a training player during April for the team to get an idea of where I was with my recovery.

I tried not to let her eyes being glued onto me get to me too much. But it was hard.

Especially with the way my knee decided today of all days it was going to ache. I knew I should have just cautioned myself and sat out the game, but this was finally my shot at a State Championship. It was the first time I had finally made it this far into the tournament. If I didn’t this year, then I would only have one more year before I was headed to college.

Maybe that’s why I had decided to risk playing today even though I should have rested with the Olympics right around the corner. I was a lock for the Olympics roster after all, so long as I was healthy.

Healthy being the keyword.

I just had to prove that I was healthy enough to get through the Olympics and then I could rest before my school season started up again next year. I was sure that Jill would give me the time off. Especially if I proved to be as big of a part of the Olympic game plan as Jill wanted me to be. It’d give me plenty of time to heal up my knee the rest of the way before we went into the new year.

But I tried to shake my head clear of the thoughts and the nerves that came with the eyes on me.

It wasn’t just Jill being here that had pressure on me. Most of my family had come out to watch. It was the first time this season that they had come to one of my school games. But I knew the main story that was following this game. How I was supposed to lead my team to the championship. I was the only one who would be on the field who had even had the chance to play with the national team.

It was all anyone had been talking about. How could we lose? Plus, with my history with Jennifer? The fact that we were playing Lawson High meant we should have the game in the bag already. They had been one of the lowest seeds in the tournament. They shouldn’t have even made it this far.

This wasn’t like the World Cup. Here I was the leader. Here I was the star. Here I was the one who was expected to get the win for my team.

Maybe it’s what made the pain worse. Maybe my knee could hold my own weight, but the added pressure was what made it crumble.

Because one second, I was planting my right foot to take a shot with my weak foot, and the next I was face planting into the turf.

You know how people say pain is all in your head? Well, they’re liars. Because of all this added pressure that made my knee crumble, that pain was now etched itself into every bit of my body. I had to muffle the scream just to give myself hope at saving my spot at the Olympics, but I wasn’t sure that this pain was going to be something I could ignore this time.

I wasn’t surprised by the quickness of our athletic trainers. The questions were quick to start. The same questions I had been asked nearly two months ago.

I was honest with them like I was last time. This time I hadn’t heard or felt a pop, but I didn’t think I’d even try to walk off with this pain.

I didn’t.

I was helped to the locker room as I was kept off my right knee. I had briefly heard my coach talking about moving me from the starting line up to the bench in case I would be able to play after my knee was looked over. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he should completely change the game plan now.

Everything started to just mesh together as the trainers checked over my knee. I didn’t even really register the trainers reaching out to schedule an MRI for me tomorrow or as they got a brace fitted onto my knee. I was mostly left alone as I tried to really get a grasp on what all of this meant.

I hadn’t been surprised by the student trainer who had been left with me, but I wasn’t even sure who it was until I snapped out of my haze. I knew that I could go and sit on the bench to watch the match. I hoped that my team would win, but I had no idea what kind of mindset they could possibly be in after knowing that I already had one knee scare just months ago and now I wasn’t coming back out to play.

I wondered how long it would take. For the team to forget about me. It seemed to always happen. Even with my own family. I had often been forgotten.

“Turn it off.”

I lifted my eyes just enough to meet Catherine’s.

“The light. Turn it off and leave.”

Catherine hesitated.

“Go!”

I didn’t miss how Catherine jumped, even as I looked away from her.

But it was enough because the room went dark, and the door shut. After all, I’d have to get used to this feeling soon enough. Being completely by myself.

They’d get someone else near my age to take my spot. Mallory Pugh. She seemed likely to fill my role. Mal had been seeing call ups ever since the beginning of the year.

Maybe she wouldn’t take my playing time just yet, but as the team’s baby. Becky and Alyssa could decide they like her more. See more potential in her. Jill probably would as well. Who wants someone who’s broken on the team?

The United States Women’s National Team was meant to be the best in the world, not for broken athletes. Ultimately that’s what I was now.

I hadn’t even picked a school to commit to. There was no telling how few would want me now. Scholarships, especially for soccer, were few and no one would want to waste one on a player who had a major injury and might never be the same again.

I’d be lucky if Stanford or UNC or UCLA would even still want me. Not with all the players that they recruited. I’d be even more replaceable with–

The lights flicked back on. The clacking of cleats against the floor was a familiar one. It was what really pulled me from my thoughts as my eyes landed on my teammates who were quickly filing into the locker room. I didn’t pay much attention to our coach who was giving the halftime speech, but rather the excited looks that my teammates were sharing.

“Don’t worry, Jo,” Isabella said as she patted my shoulder when she walked by me. “We’ll get the championship for you.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion as I watched the rest of the team head back out. I knew that I should go out to support them. It would be expected of me after all.

I was moved as quickly as I could to change my jersey out to the shirt I had worn to the game today. Once I had finished that, I used the crutches to get out to the field. Catherine was the one to meet me at the end of the tunnel.

The second half hadn’t started just yet. So, I was greeted with claps and cheers.

But I didn’t deserve them. There was nothing impressive about hobbling out on crutches. Especially to face the fact that my team was down without me.

Except they weren’t.

We were up 2-1.

I furrowed my brow as I moved to sit on the bench.

“What happened?”

I wasn’t even asking anyone in particular. Just in general to the others who were sitting on the bench with me.

“They opened the scoring, but we’ve been dominating since,” Ellie said. I furrowed my brow. We were the powerhouse we were because of me. Right? “Don’t worry. Jennifer hasn’t done anything this game.”

That wasn’t what I was worried about.

If my high school team, who was supposedly only a powerhouse because of me, could win a State Championship without me, then what use would Jill ever have for me again?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Finally got revenge, huh?” Pinoe grinned at me from across the table. It took everything in me to not sink down in my seat. “Bet the only thing to make it sweeter is if you had been able to be on the field today.”

I didn’t say anything, but I did nod. I didn’t want to alarm my teammates either. They all had enough to worry about without me knowing that they would forget me after long.

“What are they thinking?” I raised my eyes to meet Alyssa who was sitting across from me. “About your knee. What did the athletic trainers think?”

“They’re not sure,” I shrugged. “I didn’t hear a pop this time so they’re not sure if I just sprained it. They set up an MRI for me first thing tomorrow.”

“Are your parents going to go with you?” Becky asked. I shook my head. “Lys and I will take you.”

Maybe they wouldn’t forget me after all then? Or maybe Becky just wanted to go with so that she could let the coaching staff know how it went. It wasn’t like this MRI would be rushed though. I’d have to wait a week for the results.

“How bad do you think it is?”

I deflated in my seat a bit. No one had asked me just yet what I thought about the injury. Sure, I had been asked about the pain and what was the worst, but not what I thought it could be.

“I don’t think I’ll be going to the Olympics.”

The whole table went quiet at the admission. I turned my gaze to my plate which still had a piece of pizza on it. I didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Then you’ll get your rest and you’ll be back with us for the Victory Tour after the Olympics,” Kelley said.

I shook my head at that. I didn’t think that this was going to go away.

“I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy.”

The team stayed quiet at that as well. I still refused to meet anyone’s eyes. I knew that these Olympics were meant to be an ushering of a new era.

“Then we’ll get through it,” Becky said, resting her hand on my thigh. “And when you’re finally cleared to play, we’ll be right here to help you get back to the team.”

I wasn’t even sure what this team would look like when I was able to come back. We were trying to move forward, so the vets I knew now would be retired and the players in their prime would be the vets. There was no telling what our younger core would look like. More so, there was no telling if I would even be a part of that younger core.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You guys didn’t have to come with me, you know?”

Becky and Alyssa both glanced at each other before turning back to me.

“You deserve to have someone here with you,” Alyssa said softly.

It was weird. My parents hadn’t come to these kinds of appointments with me since I was able to start driving on my own. But then again, none of my appointments had the possibility of being so serious.

Maybe they already knew the results of my scans. Maybe it wasn’t actually as bad as I thought.

My head turned from the two older players when the door opened.

“Hey, Jo.”

“Hey, Lance,” I sent the man a small smile. I wasn’t too surprised that he would be the doctor handling my case. “Becky, Alyssa, this is Lance Beck. He’s friends with my older brother, Angus.”

“We went to high school together,” Lance said. Neither Becky or Alyssa really looked surprised to find that out. “So, your knee.”

“Yeah.”

“How long are we looking at her being out?” Becky asked. I didn’t bother to look at her over my shoulder, but Lance did. “And is it her ACL?”

“It is,” Lance slowly nodded. He turned his gaze back to me. “I am curious to know how you’ve been playing on it. There’s quite a bit of damage to your ACL. I’d wager you tore it a while back.”

I lowered my head. I tore it during the CONCACAF Tournament then.

“Back in February,” Becky spoke up.

“Have you had trouble walking on it?” Lance asked. I didn’t answer as I knew how upset Becky and Alyssa would be with me. “Jo?”

“I mean, it hurt, but I just thought I needed to rest it. I figured it’d be fine. We’ve all had days where we couldn’t walk on a knee. It comes with being an athlete at our level.”

The room went completely silent at that.

“You’ve had days where you couldn’t walk on it?” Becky was next to me in an instant. I didn’t get the choice to look away from her as her hand rested on my cheek and kept my head facing her. “Jo, be honest. What do you mean you’ve had days where you couldn’t walk on it?”

I sighed as my eyes flicked to where Alyssa was standing behind Becky now.

“There have been times where it just... crumbled out from under me,” I shrugged. I wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it. “Sometimes I plant it wrong, other times it’s just like my knee can’t hold up any weight at all. I can’t put any kind of weight on it for at least a day.”

“How often has this been happening?”

I was able to move my head just enough to look at Lance. I gave him a small shrug.

“It hasn’t happened since last camp.”

“It happened at camp?”

My eyes darted back to Alyssa. I tried to shrink back, but with Becky’s hand still on my cheek I wasn’t able to. I knew Alyssa wouldn’t be happy about that since it had been the first time I roomed with her.

“Jo, did your knee give out on you while you were at camp?” Alyssa asked.

I hesitated but nodded after a moment.

“It was on an off day. I didn’t want anyone to worry,” I rushed to get out as Alyssa ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. The scans had come back clear, and the Olympics are this year. Jill wants to move to a newer era and get me more involved. I didn’t want to risk that.”

“Okay,” Lance said as he stood up. Becky looked at him before letting go of me. Lance took a few steps to move in front of me. “I understand why you didn’t tell anyone, Jo, but you could have made your injury a lot worse. If you want to play professionally, you’re going to have to learn to talk whenever something feels off or there’s pain. You could have ended up with a chronic ACL deficiency and I wouldn’t be able to fully fix that.”

“So, what are the next steps?”

Lance glanced to Alyssa over his shoulder. When Lance turned back to me, he gave me a small smile before patting my leg just above my good knee.

“We’re gonna get Jo fixed up. I’m pretty confident that we’ll only need one surgery to fix her ACL,” Lance finally said. I sighed as I rubbed the back of my neck. “After that, you’ll rest for a week and come see me. We’ll get an idea about the kind of pain you’re still in and then decide if you need another week of rest or if we can begin rehab. The PTs will stay in contact with me, and we’ll decide if you might need another surgery or not. So, please, Jo, be honest with them about the pain you’re in.”

“What happens if I need a second surgery?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“We can schedule the surgery today?” Becky asked. Lance looked over his shoulder at her. “Even without her parents here?”

Lance nodded.

“Scheduling it won’t matter. I’ll let your parents know that at least one of them needs to be there. Just stay off your knee until then.”

“We’ll schedule it,” Alyssa said as she stepped forward. “And then we’re gonna have a serious talk with Jo about telling people when you’re injured.”

I just followed the two through the office before we stopped at the desk to check out. I didn’t pay much attention to when the surgery was being set up other than agreeing to the earliest time as possible.

Neither of them said anything as we made our way to the car. It wasn’t even until we were all inside and buckled up.

“Are you seri–”

“Why do you care?” I cut Becky off. She turned to look at me with her eyebrows raised. “Give it a few weeks and no one will. Not parents. Not my siblings. Not Jill. And I’m sure you two will follow suit. That’s how it’s always been.”

The two stayed silent.

“Everyone eventually stops caring, so just go ahead and stop pretending. It’ll be easier on me if we just stop now.”

“You really think we don’t care?” Alyssa turned to look back at me this time. “Jo, if we didn’t care, we wouldn’t have come with you to the MRI scan. We wouldn’t be here today. We came to support you. Because you shouldn’t be alone to get those kinds of results.”

“So, you could tell Jill,” I cut in. Alyssa sighed as she shook her head. “You know I’m right. You’ll drop me off at home and then Becky’s going to call Jill to let her know.”

“I’m going to call Jill to tell her so that you don’t have to. Would you rather have to do that yourself? Tell her you can’t go to the Olympics? Or I can do it for you.”

I huffed but looked away from Becky.

“Jo, we both care about you. That’s not going to change. We might not be able to be here for you all the time, but we’ll check in. We’ll call. That won’t change,” Becky said. I didn’t look at her, even when she put her hand on my knee. “Jo, you might not believe, but we do care. We’ll both be here for the surgery, and, after that, we’ll call at least every week, if not more.”

I scoffed at that. I was sure that they would.

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #leah williamson imagines #uswnt #woso #leah williamson #rivals

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excalibur-gone-missing · 5 months ago

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Paring: Daichi Sawamura x fem!reader

Requested: No

Genre: Smut

Warning(s): Somnophillia, cunnilingus.

Summary: Daichi is annoyed after practice, thankfully you look a bit too delectable today.

Word count: 650

Other works

Beta reader: None

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

Daichi loves hearing you blabber as he rams into you with all his might. It's not always that he gets this horny and needy, but on the days he does, you are in for a ride—literally!

It started right after he got back from practice, extremely angry at himself for not being up to the mark and messing up the practice for the whole team.

The moment he came in, he immediately searched for you, only to find you asleep on the couch. It's not a rare sight to see you waiting for him, but those shorts paired with his tee were the breaking point for him.

You looked so beautiful lying there all pretty for him.

No matter how freaky you both were in bed, the topic of consent always took first place. So when he first heard you suggest trying somnophilia, he was a bit concerned, to say the least.

But the first time you both tried it, it was like heaven for him. So, the sight of you sleeping in shorts was too inviting for him to resist.

Immediately going towards you, he quickly removed your shorts and latched his mouth onto your cunt, hungrily lapping at it to create some wetness.

Your reaction was a bit slow, but he could slowly but surely hear the small moans emitting from you. Soon enough, you were awake, the feeling of his mouth on your now throbbing cunt too much for your sleep-induced brain to handle, so it woke you up.

Your moans immediately increased in volume, prompting Daichi to add a finger along with his his already attached mouth. Your hands soon found their place in his hair, pulling on it.

"Tastes so good I could die here," he says before continuing to abuse your pussy.

Within seconds, you are bursting onto him, squirting all over the man's face with a loud moan of his name. And being the man he subhe wastes not a drop of your precious cum lapping it all up like a starving man.

As Daichi emerges from your pussy, he gives you a look of extreme need. Within seconds, you are underneath him.

"Gonna fuck you so well," he says as he takes off his pants, letting his throbbing cock breathe. It's been almost five years since you and Daichi have been together, but the size of his cock still shocks you.

You used to wonder how it would fit, but from previous experience, you know it will. He immediately sinks into your puffy warm hole with a moan.

"How are you still so fucking tight? Did I not prep you enough?" he groans. Before you can respond, he starts moving, inducing moans after moans from you.

"So good Mura," you can barely form a sentence with how good he makes you feel. A ring of thick cream forming at the base of his cock due to the endless thrusting.

"Will fucking fill you up with my seed until your tits are all swollen with milk," he says while thrusting into you with all his might.

"Do you want that? My babies?" He rams into you like his life depends on it.

"Need, need your cum," you are just a blabbering mess at this point, barely able to form a sentence. The pleasure is so intense that it makes you almost cry. Soon, you reach your climax, cumming all over his dick, making him reach his peak too.

After a few loud moans, and a few "you milk my dick so well," you both calm down. He immediately moves over to hold you, making you rest your head on his chest.

"You want me to make us a warm bath?" he asks gently while rubbing your shoulder.

You nod, numb from all the lovemaking. Kissing your forehead, he immediately takes you to the bathroom to clean you up and get you ready for bed.

The End

a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review

#daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi x f!reader #daichi sawamura x reader #smut #daichi sawamura x f!reader #daichi x reader #daichi x you #Daichi Sawamura x you #daichi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader smut #daichi drabble #daichi imagine #daichi thrist

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stylesispunk · 1 year ago

Text

"I couldn't want you anymore" | Part 4

Artist! Joel Miller × Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is reader's nickname, fluff, some feelings are being confessed, smut, angst, EXTREME ANGST. Okay, this is where everything goes to hell.

a/n: This one is more than 7k and is the longest piece of writing I've written here, so please, give it love🥺 Reblogs and comments are appreciated and help a lot be noticed by more people. I love this one, not the writing but the chapter as a piece? Sorry for any grammar mistakes and sorry in advance for the chapter.💌

masterlist

The next morning, it was Sunday and you thanked God for it. You were tired and the events from last night still lingered in your head, Joel, Connell's proposal, and the mix of feelings because of it.

“Move to London?” you asked Connell, as if you couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

Connell looked at you with a patient and reassuring smile, understanding the magnitude of the decision he had just proposed. He reached out and gently took your hand, his touch comforting.

"Yes," he replied softly, "Moving to London would be a big step, and I don't want you to say yes right now. Take all the time you need to think about it. I'm willing to wait."

You nodded, appreciating his understanding and patience. The idea of moving to a new city, even for love, was overwhelming. You needed to consider your job, your life, and the ties you had built in your current home.

“Or is there someone?” He asked, “Oh my god”. He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask about that”.

You graced a tiny smile, comforting Connell

“So, is there someone?”

“It’s complicated.”

Connell's expression softened as he gazed into your eyes. "Bee, I want you to be happy. If there's someone else in your life, I'll respect that. But I just had to be honest with you about my feelings and my intentions."

You appreciated his understanding and his willingness to accept your situation, even if it was complex. The bond you had shared with Connell was strong, but your involvement with Joel had added layers of confusion and uncertainty to your life. It was a tangled web of emotions that you needed to untangle before making any decisions.

Connell leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Take all the time you need to figure things out, no matter what. You choose me or choose whoever the other guy is, I'll be for you."

With his reassuring words, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders, knowing you had Connell's unwavering support, whatever decision you eventually made, and that made your heart feel at ease for once.

Nevertheless, you didn´t remember what happened after that. You both drank wine, you mostly, and you knew that you drunkenly confessed everything about your and Joel's “agreement” to Connell.

You felt embarrassed. Having Connell back helped you to see things clearly, and with your birthday coming soon, you were even more stupid for doing this at your age.

You decided to go back to sleep to avoid overthinking it. However, your attempt to do so was interrupted by a knock on your front door. You groaned and glanced at the clock; it was eight in the morning, and you couldn't bear facing a person at this time. Nevertheless, and still feeling a bit dazed from last night's wine, you dragged yourself out of bed and stumbled to the front door. Last

When you opened the door, you were met with Joel standing there. He looked like he hadn't slept much either. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he appeared slightly disheveled as if he had rushed over to your place first thing in the morning.

"Joel, what are you doing here so early?" you asked, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Joel hesitated before answering, his face displaying conflictive emotions "I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?"

You felt like this wasn’t a good idea right now, but you stepped aside, allowing him to enter your home.

As he entered, you couldn't help but notice he was carrying two bags.

"I brought breakfast," he said, offering a faint smile.

You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this was an attempt to make amends after last night's dinner with Lauren, and you were on guard. You didn’t want to show him he was having an effect on your emotions.

"Joel, what's all this?" you asked, gesturing at the bags as he placed them on the table.

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze on your eyes. "I know I messed up last night, and I'm really sorry for everything that happened. I was hoping we could talk and sort things out."

Your guard was still up, but the sound of his voice touched your heart. "Joel, last night..."

He cut you off gently, "I know, Bee, I know. I want to explain. Please, let me."

"I won't pretend that last night wasn't complicated," Joel began, keeping his gaze on the breakfast he was preparing. "I know I hurt you by having dinner with Lauren. But please believe me, it wasn't what it looked like."

You remained silent, letting him continue.

Joel's voice held a note of frustration as he explained, "Lauren and I have a history. Yes, but we have something in common and Sarah wants to know her mother. I can’t deny her that right.”

You wanted to believe him, but the doubts lingered. "Actions speak louder, you know?”

“I have nothing with her,” he said, widening his eyes as he looked into her eyes.

You could see the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to trust him, to believe that he had good intentions. It was a complicated situation, one you had never expected to find yourself in.

“So, what are you suggesting?" you asked, your voice cautious.

Joel sighed, with relief and anxiety in his expression. "I'm suggesting that we reevaluate our agreement. Maybe we can redefine our boundaries and communicate better about our feelings."

You considered his proposal, thinking about how this might change things between you two. Despite the pain and confusion, a part of you also cared about Joel. It wasn't easy to let go of something that had brought so much comfort into your life.

“Okay” you smiled in agreement. Knowing you should tell him about Connell’s proposal, but you hadn’t the strength to do it.

Joel mirrored your actions, and he turned back to the breakfast he was preparing; you felt the weight of the both of you on your shoulders. This situation was far from simple, and your heart was torn between wanting to trust Joel or starting a new life with somebody you already trusted.

“So, you woke up today and decided to come here?” you asked.

“Actually, yes, that’s what I did,” he laughed. “I didn’t know you were in a hangover though, sorry for that. Did you and Lily hang out last night?”

“Actually, I had dinner with Connell,” you said, anticipating his reaction.

“Your ex?”

“Yes.”

Joel's expression shifted, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he processed the information. He clearly hadn't expected that response.

"Dinner with Connell," he repeated, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

You nodded, feeling the need to explain. "He had something important to talk about, and he's leaving for London soon. It felt like the right thing to do."

Joel took a moment to collect his thoughts, then replied, "Well, I guess it's good you two talked. You should figure things out. I mean, he's your ex, and he's moving away."

His words were calm and understanding, which was a relief. You had braced for a more tense reaction.

"Yeah," you said, appreciating his mature response. "We're just trying to be on good terms before he leaves."

Joel gave a small nod, his expression thoughtful. The conversation had taken a different turn, and the complexities of your feelings and relationships weighed heavily on your mind. You hoped that both Joel and Connell could find their respective places in your life, but the path ahead was far from clear.

You just omitted the part when he asked you to leave with him.

Joel gave a small nod, his expression thoughtful. The conversation about Connell hung in the air and Joel decided to break the tension by returning to breakfast. He finished preparing the meal, and the two of you sat down to eat. The atmosphere was lighter, and you both made an effort to talk about less complicated topics, sharing stories and laughs over your food.

You still found it funny how you both went from not talking at all to talking about anything.

After breakfast, as you helped Joel with some preparations for his upcoming exhibition, you couldn't help but think about the new direction your life was taking. Joel had proposed reevaluating your agreement, and Connell had asked you to go with him to London. The decisions ahead were daunting, and you knew that clarity would be hard to come by.

Joel was also deep in thought as he arranged some artwork, and eventually, he broke the silence. "Bee, I know things have gotten complicated, but I genuinely want to make this work.”

His words were sincere, and you could sense his determination. It was a lot to process, but you couldn't deny that you also cared about Joel. The choices you had to make in the coming days would be defining moments in your life, and you hoped you could find a path that would lead to happiness and fulfillment, no matter how complex it might be.

With your birthday coming in three days, you felt that your new year of life would be different.

The timing couldn't have been more challenging as Joel's upcoming art exhibition was just around the corner. The preparations for the event were in full swing, and you were doing your best to help him with the decoration and catering.

The gallery was buzzing with activity. Paintings were being hung, sculptures were being arranged, and the space was being transformed into a captivating display of Joel's artwork. You couldn't help but be impressed by his talent and dedication to his craft.

As for your "relationship," you and Joel were navigating it with care. It was a tricky balance of pretending to be a couple while not letting your true feelings get in the way. Sometimes, the lines blurred, and it became challenging to differentiate between the act and reality.

You worked closely with Joel to ensure that the gallery's decor matched his artistic vision. Together, you chose color schemes and hung string lights to create a warm and inviting atmosphere. The collaboration brought you closer, and as you worked side by side, there were moments when you exchanged genuine smiles and shared laughter that felt far from fake.

Convincing everyone about your relationship was an ongoing challenge. You played the part of the affectionate girlfriend, exchanging hugs, kisses, and sweet nothings with Joel. The outside world saw the two of you as a couple, but you knew the truth lay somewhere between reality and pretense.

As the event drew near, the question that remained was whether you could maintain the charade or if it would evolve into something real.

The day of your birthday dawned, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The recent developments in your life, your family and friends’ birthday wishes, and Joel’s upcoming art exhibition made this birthday unlike any other.

As you made your way to the gallery to leave the usual cup of coffee for Joel, you felt a sense of excitement. You couldn't deny that you enjoyed spending time with him, but you also knew that this fake relationship was getting more complicated by the day due to feelings getting involved.

When you arrived at the gallery, you were greeted by the soft glow of string lights and the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee. The space looked even more beautiful now with Joel's artwork on display. It was evident that he had put his heart and soul into his work.

Just as you set the coffee on the table, Joel appeared, a warm smile on his face. He walked over to you and pulled you into a gentle hug, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Happy birthday, Bee," he whispered.

The simple gesture was filled with genuine warmth, and it touched your heart. You felt your cheeks blushing at his touch.

"Thank you, Joel," you replied with a smile.

Joel gestured to a small gift wrapped in a simple but elegant box. "I got you a little something," he said, his eyes filled with anticipation.

You accepted the gift and carefully unwrapped it, revealing a beautiful necklace. It was a delicate piece of jewelry with a pendant in the form of a flower that resembled his art and your essence together. You were taken aback by the beauty and thoughtfulness of the gift.

"It's beautiful, you said, genuinely touched by his gesture. "Thank you, Joel."

He smiled, and for a moment, the line between pretense and reality blurred again. It was a birthday gift that felt meaningful, not just because of the necklace, but because it came from someone who had become an important part of your life.

Joel pulled you into another hug, and you realized that, despite all the complexities and pretense, this connection was becoming real.

"Thank you for this," you said, gesturing to the necklace. "It means a lot to me."

Joel took your hand and looked into your eyes; his gaze was sincere. "You mean a lot to me."

Your breath sucked in, leaving you breathless as his words hung in the air. You knew that this fake relationship had evolved into something more, something that was real.

Joel's hand in yours felt warm and reassuring. As you stood together in the gallery, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the future, even if it remained uncertain. Your birthday had taken an unexpected turn, and you had a feeling that more surprises were yet to come.

"The gallery is closed for the morning because we have someone to celebrate today," Joel said with a playful grin.

You chuckled; the weight of the world momentarily lifted. "Alright, what's the plan?"

Joel leaned in and whispered, "I have a few more surprises up my sleeve. But first, let's enjoy some coffee together."

........................

The day moved forward in a whirlwind of excitement and celebration. Joel had arranged a surprise birthday party for you in the gallery. Your friends, including Lily, and even Sarah, were all there to celebrate with you. It was a beautiful gathering filled with laughter and warmth, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the people in your life.

Joel played the perfect host, making sure everyone felt welcome and comfortable. You saw how he effortlessly blended with your friends. His charm and genuine smiles seemed to win everyone over.

As the evening progressed, the party was in full swing, but Joel leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I have one more surprise for you. Why don't you come to my place tonight? Tommy won’t be there and Sarah will stay with Lauren tonight, and I was hoping for some alone time."

You couldn't help but smile,"I'd love to."

Joel's eyes sparkled with anticipation, and you realized that there was more of him that you hadn't fully explored.

The clock ticked away the hours, and eventually, it was time to leave the party behind. You said goodbye and made your way to Joel's place, with him by your side, and the atmosphere completely changed after that.

When you arrived at Joel's home, it welcomed you with the soft lighting and cozy ambiance in his living room. Set the perfect mood for what was to come. Joel's living room was bathed in the soft glow of light, and you couldn't help but feel a warm sensation at the gesture. He excused himself for a moment and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you wondering what other surprises he might have in store.

As you sat there, Joel returned with a small tray of desserts. On it, there were beautifully plated mini cheesecakes topped with fresh berries, and a bottle of your favorite wine was chilling in an ice bucket nearby.

"This is the second part of your birthday surprise," Joel said with a mischievous smile. "I thought we could end the night with something sweet."

Your heart swelled with affection for his thoughtfulness. As you indulged in the delicious treats and sipped wine, the evening took on an even more romantic tone. The intimate setting, combined with Joel's genuine affection, made your birthday feel like something out of a fairytale.

You found yourself drawn to Joel's eyes, and he to yours. It was a moment when pretense gave way to something authentic, something that had been growing between you for the last two months. With every shared smile and every tender touch, the unspoken emotions between you became stronger.

Joel reached out and took your hand, his fingers gently tracing circles on your palm. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken desire, and it felt like the perfect time to take things to the next level, to explore what was real and true between you.

“Bee,” he said, looking straight into your eyes.

They were focused, eye to eye with his lips close to yours.

You were completely alone. You were in his house and both of your worlds were mixing together to become one. And your heart pulsed at the sound of the nickname he gave you years ago, something that seemed foreign back in those days, but now the tone lacing the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“Happy birthday, Bee” he smiled, attaching his lisp to yours for a passionate kiss, flipping you over so he could be over you.

After that, everything happened so fast. Neither of you knew when you got rid of your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch, you wanted to see the way his fingers could make a mark on you, tracing lines of invisible traces over your body.

He was hovering over you, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. He was in the right between your legs where you wanted him the most now.

He detached his lips from yours for a moment to look down at you for a moment. To admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.

“You look beautiful”. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldn’t stop.

With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.

His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.

You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.

And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to that night in the gallery some nights ago. At this moment, you weren’t driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You weren’t in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.

Both of you gasped out loud the second he started to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours to interlock them together as he kissed you with softness, whispering “You’re so beautiful like this”. He was hypnotized by the way you were nervously laughing as you tossed your head back in pleasure. He bit your neck, causing your hands to follow their way up to his neck and his hands roamed down all of your body without a layer of clothes on you, focusing on every thrust, going deep to make sure he was making you feel good.

You opened your eyes to stare back at him, looking completely focused on you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as his hands caressed your breasts as he kept devouring your lips, your back arched followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so good you couldn’t help but feel you were in heaven. You could feel you were getting close as you squeezed him and you kept your eyes locked on each other. He pushed faster, with one hand caressing your cheek and the other holding your leg to ensure you fell apart.

The noises you made drove him crazy, feeling himself coming to the edge of the cliff. He wanted to look at you under him as you came, and with a loud gasp, it happened and he did it at the same time, falling over your bare chest, with your heartbeats becoming one.

Yes, you had sex and you crossed the line you couldn’t, but at that moment, you didn’t care.

You sighed softly under him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, showing him a cute smile that he wasn’t tired of, and you kissed him on the lips.

“I love you,” you said tiredly before falling asleep.

I love you.

Those three words were echoing in the shadows of his mind. His expression hardened and he felt his blood rushing. He couldn't be sure, but the impact it had on him was undeniable.

Now in the stillness of the room, he looked down at you, nestled in his arms,

He wanted to respond, to say those words back to him, but he hesitated. The weight of his complicated past with Lauren, the confusion of your fake relationship, and the promise you both had just broken kept him silent.

A few hours later, you woke up alone in Joel’s bed. You can't ignore the heavy feeling nestling on your chest. You made your way to the living room, and you found him sitting on the couch, his gaze lost in the soft light of the lamp.

You walked over and sat down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep?" you asked softly, your voice trembling.

And the way your voice sounded made Joel’s heart break.

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. He knew he couldn't keep you in the dark any longer. "Bee, I need to be honest with you," he said, his voice low and heavy. "This... relationship we've had, it's been confusing for me. I'm not sure where my feelings stand, and I can't keep pretending."

You listened attentively, your heart pounding. The room seemed to close in on you, and the silence felt suffocating.

Joel finally met your gaze, his eyes filled with regret. "I need to figure things out, Bee. I'm sorry, but I can't continue like this. I can't say those words back to you. Not yet"

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as the weight of his crashed down on you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of his confession crashed down on you. The vulnerability of those three words that you had uttered at the peak of the moment was now the breaking point between both of you.

Joel continued, "We should end this, Bee, for both our sakes. This... fake relationship isn't fair to you”

“But...but you said you cared about me” you whispered.

Trembling, Joel nodded his head as he reached for your hands, but you stood up from the couch to hide the tears streaming down your cheeks. Joel couldn’t help but feel he was already losing you.

He stood up, quickly grabbing your arms, and tears flickered in his eyes. But she refused to look at him at this moment.

“I care about you, Bee…You have to trust me, but I-”

“Do you love Lauren?” you cut him.

You could see Joel was taken aback by your question.

“Bee, no. Look at me…I don’t love her” he said as he shook his head fast as if he was trying to stop the breaking pieces falling from you.

“But you don’t love me either,” you said, taking a step back to keep yourself away from Joel. “All you wanted from me was to take me to your bed, Joel.”

He tilted his head to have a glimpse of your face. When you looked up, your eyes shone with the tears dancing inside them. Joel took a step closer to you, holding your face and pressing his forehead against yours.

“No,” he said immediately “Bee, you have been the best thing that crossed my path-”

“Do you love me?” you asked in a breathy voice with the last strength you had left. That’s the last answer you need to prevent your falling.

Your question hung in the air, heavy and unanswerable. When you demanded to know if he loved you, you were met with silence.

The pain in your eyes was undeniable, and in that moment, you felt nothing but shame and heartache as he held your face in his hands, still keeping your foreheads together as if he was holding onto the last moments, he was going to have you this close.

Joel's heart shattered along with yours, and yet, he remained silent.

“You made me promise not to love you, Bee,” he said, as his voice didn’t have strength left.

“This is over, Joel,” you whispered.

Joel felt his soul leaving his body when you removed both of his hands from your face.

At that moment, your heart was glass and he dropped it.

And yet, he didn’t speak.

He was still there in the middle of his living room, not knowing what to do and how to act. The truth was that he did love you, but he had let his own demons and insecurities build a wall between you and him, and now it was too late to turn back time.

He had built a life with tall banners around his family, to protect them and himself from the people coming into his life. He stopped believing in love and fairy tales the day he and Sarah were abandoned by Lauren, and he didn’t let another one come closer to him in years until you settled next to him with flowers and effortless smiles.

He found himself smiling at you the very first days, until a bouquet of flowers and a card came to his office, a “gift” from you, and he thought you had second intentions, so he dropped the flowers and the card in the trash. He didn't know, but that was the very first time he broke your heart.

You, on the other hand, were crestfallen when you found the flowers and the card in the trash. You thought you could have brightened Joel’s days with the gesture, not knowing his real behavior. That time, the rejection hurt, and it made you question what was wrong with you.

That day you stopped talking to him, only keeping a polite distance, and your smiles became more reserved once he appeared in your sight.

And you become “enemies” after that.

And in the middle of those memories, Joel lost track of time. The door fell shut. You were gone.

Once you stepped out of Joel’s house, a sob escaped from your lips, and a heavy feeling settled in your heart. You couldn’t bear the feeling of humiliation consuming you.

You didn’t have a destination in mind, the heavy steps over cobblestones were breaking the silence of the still night. You were walking in a world that felt foreign and unwelcoming, navigating through a tumultuous mix of feelings you thought you had never had to experience.

You didn’t know what to do or who to call, you didn’t want to bother Lily because it was one in the morning and she would probably have slept, and you couldn’t face her after you promised her you would keep your heart safe from breaking.

You thought about calling Connell, but you didn’t want to drag him into this mess. You felt so humiliated and broken on your own birthday night and everything seemed to be falling apart.

You walked for what felt like hours, unable to find a direction. The tears you had been holding back began to flow freely down your cheeks.

And as the night deepened, you found yourself standing by a park bench, your legs finally giving in to exhaustion. You sat down, looking at the distance, lost in the memories of your time with Joel. And what started in a distant room ended up with you crying on a parking bench in the middle of the night. The pain was unbearable, and the feeling of abandonment cut deep to the bone.

You just couldn’t make up your mind about the thought of a person coming into your life, making you navigate through a lake of turbulent and magical emotions, painting your darker skies in vibrant colors just for them to walk over your own peace of mind, leaving scars they promised they would never leave on you.

Sitting on the park bench in the darkness, you felt vulnerable. The weight of the pain enveloped you. You knew you couldn't stay there forever, but you also couldn't bear to go back to your empty apartment, the place where you had shared moments with Joel.

In your fragile state, you reached for your phone and dialed Connell's number. Your heart ached, and the tears in your voice were unmistakable when he picked up.

Connell's voice was filled with concern when he said your name "What's wrong?"

The sound of his voice provided a small comfort, and you tried your best to steady your emotions. "Connell, I... I don't know where to go, and I didn't want to be alone. Something happened, and I—"

“Hey, easy. Breathe” Connell's reassuring tone came through the phone, "Just tell me where you are and I’ll be there."

You sent him the location of the park, and he promised to be there soon. While you waited, you let yourself cry softly, finding solace in the idea that someone who truly cared for you was on their way.

Connell arrived a short while later, and he wrapped his arms around you, offering comfort in his embrace. He listened as you cried on his shoulder while you tried to erase your memories and take away the pain.

The next morning, as the sun's first rays peeked through the curtains, Tommy walked into the living room expecting to find you and Joel making breakfast together.

Once he stepped inside, beaming, he found Joel in the same spot as last night.

“Bee is still sleeping?” Tommy joked.

But as soon as he saw the state of Joel sitting on the couch, his eyes bloodshot, and an empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, he knew something was wrong.

"Joel?" Tommy asked, taking a seat beside him.

Joel finally turned to his brother; his voice heavy with remorse. "I ruined her.”

Tommy had been through his fair share of tough times with Joel. The first time was the day Lauren walked out of his life, leaving him alone with a baby, Sarah, without any explanation, but now, he could sense the gravity of the situation. Joel was seriously broken this time.

“What happened?” Tommy asked.

Joel didn't reply immediately, instead choosing to take a long, deep breath.

“What happened?” He urged.

Joel told him the events from last night, how you told him you loved him, how he couldn’t say those words back, and the moment he had broken your heart. As he spoke, the tears welled up in his eyes once again. It was the first time Tommy had seen Joel this torn.

Tommy let out a deep sigh, and he placed a reassuring hand on Joel's shoulder. "Brother, please tell me you didn’t let her go home alone and break down on her birthday night.”

Not until then did it occur to Joel that something could have happened to you. He stood fast and ran to his bedroom, to grab his cellphone and call you, but Tommy stopped him before he could do anything.

“Easy Joel”, he said, reassuring him “She is not going to answer your calls right now.”

Tommy's words only deepened the weight of Joel's remorse. He dropped his phone back onto the coffee table and clenched his fists, feeling utterly helpless. "What have I done, Tommy? I love her”

Tommy continued to be the voice of reason. "You need to give her space, Joel. Pushing her right now might only make things worse. Let her cool off, and then you can talk to her when she's ready. But you need to give her time to heal."

Joel knew Tommy was right, but it was excruciating to think about leaving you in pain. He shook his head "I’m going to her place," he murmured, already walking past Tommy.

He couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt and feeling abandoned. Tommy understood his brother's pain but also recognized that this might not be the best time to confront you, especially if you were still reeling from the heartbreak.

"Joel, I get it, but you need to be cautious," Tommy advised as he followed Joel to the door. "Let her have some time to herself. She needs to process what happened, and then you can talk."

Joel turned to Tommy; his eyes filled with desperation. "I can't just leave her like this, Tommy. I need to make this right."

"You should have seen her face” he murmured; his voice heavy with regret.

“Listen, I can call Lily and ask about Bee, okay?” Tommy said.

Joel offered a small nod in response, his thoughts consumed by the image of your heartbroken face. As Tommy made the call to Lily, Joel's mind raced with remorse, knowing he had caused you pain.

after a brief conversation with Tommy, and turned to Joel. "She's with Connell. It seems like that's where she went last night."

Joel felt a pang in his chest, knowing that you had sought solace with Connell. He couldn't help but wonder how you had ended up there and what you might be telling Connell about what happened.

As the morning sun began to filter through Connell's windows, you found yourself sitting in his cozy living room. On the previous night, your birthday had ended badly, but Connell's presence had provided you with some sense of comfort.

Connell, always thoughtful and caring when it came to you, had made you a cup of tea, which you held in your hands as you stared out the window. The silence between you two was comfortable as if words were unnecessary.

After a while, Connell cleared his throat and said, " I’m not sure what happened last night but I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

You turned to him, your eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Connell”, you gave him a small smile.

Connell nodded in understanding. Then, he reached behind him and held a small gift-wrapped box out to you. “I got you a little something for your birthday. I hope it brings a smile to your face."

You accepted the gift with a warm smile, feeling grateful for Connell's existence. Unwrapping it carefully, you discovered a beautiful, handcrafted necklace inside. It was an elegant piece of jewel with a delicate design.

"It's stunning," you whispered.

Connell chuckled softly. "You used to love unique and handmade jewelry, so I thought this might be something you'd like. I bought it in London a few years ago."

As you held the necklace in your hands, you felt a surge of emotion. Connell's kind gesture and the beauty of the necklace warmed your heart and provided a much-needed distraction from the turmoil of the previous night. You thanked him sincerely, realizing that you were fortunate to have him who genuinely cared about you.

Memories of your past relationship with Connell rushed back to you. There was a time when you and Connell had been a strong team, and those feelings and connection you had shared, and it had been an important part of your life. But that had changed, and you had moved on.

As you sat there with Connell, the temptation to lean in and kiss him was strong, but it was Joel's face and his presence that you couldn't forget. You knew that, deep down, your heart belonged to him.

With a heavy heart, you offered a grateful smile to Connell and thanked him once again for his kind gesture.

"Connell, thanks for your gift” you said, offering a sincere smile. "But I also wanted to talk to you about something important."

Connell nodded; his blue eyes focused on you. "Of course, What's on your mind?"

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "This job in London…

Connell leaned back in his chair, looking at you attentively.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before asking, "Connell, have you made a decision about that job?"

Connell sighed and leaned in closer, his voice low and sincere. "I have decided to go and I know I asked you to come with me, but you and Joel- “

“I’ll go with you” you said.

Connell's eyes widened with surprise, “Are you sure about this? It's a big step, and I don't want you to feel rushed or pressured into it just because you’re hurt.”

You met Connell's gaze. "Connell, this isn't just about being hurt; but about an opportunity to start a fresh life. I want to be with you in London."

Connell's surprise gave way to a warm, grateful smile. He squeezed your hand gently and leaned in closer. " I can't express how happy that makes me. We're going to have a wonderful time in London, I promise."

Connell pulled you into a warm embrace, your heart should have been soaring with joy, but a shadow of doubt crept in. At that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and your future looking bright, you couldn't help but think about Joel.

Joel, who had broken your heart. Joel, with whom you had shared an intimate connection that you could never forget. Despite your determination to start fresh, the memories of your time with Joel, the emotions you had felt, and the connection you shared with him echoed in your mind.

Connell pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to have any doubts."

You forced a smile, feeling a sense of guilt for letting your thoughts wander. "I'm sure, Connell. Let's make this move and embrace our future together."

A week later, after the painful night with you, Joel was in the gallery, his heart heavy with regret as he finished the final details of his upcoming exhibition. The art pieces were carefully arranged, the lighting adjusted, and he scrutinized every corner, but it was a task that felt empty without you by his side.

He knew, deep down, that you wouldn't be there for the exhibition. The absence of your presence was like a void in the room, and the pain of knowing he had pushed you away was a constant ache in his chest.

No flowers from you this time, not the sound of your laugh echoing through the halls and he felt he was dying inside.

In the midst of his preparations, Lauren was in the gallery with him. He told her you and him had broken up and it seemed like she was trying to comfort him somehow as she took advantage of Sarah as “something” they had in common. Her presence was a reminder of the choices he had made, and it infuriated him. Joel couldn't help but glance out of the gallery window toward your flower shop. It was a habit, one that he couldn't seem to break, even though he knew it was over between you two.

It wasn’t real, he thought, but for him and you it became the most adventurous story of love.

"Why is she gifting flowers today?" Joel asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice as he saw a group of people gathered outside your shop.

Lauren turned her gaze to the window, following his line of sight. She sighed softly and said, "You don't know?"

Joel shook his head. "What should I know?"

"I think she's selling the place," Lauren explained. Her tone was gentle, and she appeared concerned about the situation.

Joel's brow furrowed as he processed the information. Your flower shop, a place that had meant so much to you, was being sold. The weight of the recent events pressed down on him even more. It was yet another consequence of his actions, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was yet another step in the direction of erasing him from your life.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" he told Lauren, deciding he was going to confront you.

As he left the gallery, Joel's steps were determined, and his thoughts were a mess of remorse, regret, and a glimmer of hope. He knew he had to speak with you, to clear the air, even though he wasn't sure where your conversation might lead.

Joel's heart raced as he approached your flower shop. The sight of it, now decorated with flowers, brought back memories of the moments he had spent there with you. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the interior for a sign of your presence.

"Is it true?" Joel's voice, which had been silent for a week, sent shivers down your spine, memories of his touch still fresh on your skin.

"What's true?" you asked without looking at him.

"That you're selling your shop?"

You nodded, unable to meet his searching gaze.

"Is it because of me?"

"Joel, please," you pleaded, your voice edged with a mix of frustration and pain. "Just let it go."

"Please, just answer me," he implored.

"No," you replied, the weight of your decision heavy in the air. "It's not because of you. I just need a fresh start."

He countered, his voice filled with doubt, "And you think moving to another part of town will give you that?"

"I'm not moving to another part of town," you said, your voice unsteady.

"What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, and your gaze met his, knowing this would be the final blow. "I'm leaving."

Joel's heart sank, a heaviness that seemed insurmountable. He didn't want to hear the rest, but you continued.

"I'm leaving to London with Connell."

"No—"

"No, Joel, you can't," you replied firmly “You can't come here and tell me what I should do. You have no right."

His frustration was rising, "You're escaping. Can you be more childish?"

Joel's world crumbled around him. The woman he was in love with, the one who had brought color and life back into his existence, was leaving. And worse, she was leaving for London with her ex-boyfriend.

You chuckled bitterly, the pain in your heart mingling with your exasperation. "Goodbye, Joel." You said, signaling the door.

"Bee! Listen to me!" He shouted.

But you were done listening. The years of mixed emotions, the moments of joy and confusion, had finally boiled over. You had made your decision, and you couldn't bear to keep going in circles with him.

"You were my biggest disappointment, Joel."

With those words, you turned away from him and walked behind the counter door, leaving Joel standing there, with a heavy heart.

At that moment, Joel realized the depth of his mistakes and the price he had paid for being an idiot. He felt a burning need to make things right, but it was already too late. Your departure for London with Connell was the beginning of a chapter in your life that he could no longer be a part of.

With a heavy heart, Joel turned away from the flower shop and walked back to the gallery, his steps heavy with the weight of what he had lost.

And you were left there crying while losing the grip of the hand of the man you felt you would be getting over your whole life.

a/n: Okay, sorry again. But what's going to happen next? 👀

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3

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urf1lterr · 2 years ago

Text

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascaledit #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller #pascalispunk #fanfiction

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morning-star-joy · 2 years ago

Text

and I'll never see you again if I can help it

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 6

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: You and Joel fall into a temporary truce after your patrol. At Tommy's urging, you go out for drinks with the two brothers. When you and Joel find yourselves alone after, the tension between you continues to rise until it snaps again.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) Mutual Masturbation, Unprotected p in v sex, Drunk Sex, Dirty Talk, Brief Mention of Masturbation (f), References to Previous Smut, Language, Alcohol Use, the sexist asshole from Chapter 3 makes a reappearance & tries to sl*t shame Reader but gets put in his place by both Reader and Joel, Brief Bar Fight, Mild Description of a Shallow Cut/Injury Treatment

A/N: Translation: Qué mala eres = You're so bad (ty to my wife @cynibuns for helping with the translation ily here's your writing cred)! Also, Chapter 14 will be up on ao3 tomorrow! Most likely evening-ish PST when I get home from being out of town. Hope you’re all having a lovely weekend!

Wordcount: 10.4k

chapter 1 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || masterlist

ao3 link

The severity of the tension between you and Joel lightened, if only slightly.

You wouldn’t say he treated you warmly now, but the harshness of the chill he regarded you with did lessen. Joel would greet you when he saw you now, either with a slight nod or your name spoken as an acknowledgement. You returned the niceties with your own, and even though they were simple, they lessened a burden you hadn’t realized you had felt since the man returned to town.

Tommy was happy about this perceived change in your relationship with his brother, to say the least. If you and Joel found yourself in the rare circumstance that you were seated next to each other for a meal and not biting each other’s heads off, it felt like Tommy would appear out of nowhere to slap you both on the back in barely contained glee.

“We gotta go out for drinks tonight,” he would say with a grin, to which Joel shook his head to himself and you laughed disbelievingly.

“Maybe when the kid is old enough to come with us,” you would remark cheekily, referring to the latest addition to the Miller family, knowing from how you remained Joel’s patrol partner that the bundle of joy still needed both parents around to help.

Those patrols with Joel weren’t as awkward as they were before, either. There wasn’t much more talking between you, but you fell into step with each other easier, taking out both Infected and the occasional bandits with less difficulty.

While it wasn’t the same as your familiar contest with Tommy, your traded banter with Eugene or your mentorship with Jesse, you found yourself actually coming to appreciate the steadfastness of Joel’s presence when he rode and fought beside you. When he wasn’t treating you with such extreme disdain, you could almost understand why Tommy was so fond of his brother.

Almost.

Joel still irritated you. He was just as gruff and rude as ever, even if he wasn’t as antagonistic towards you as before. If you would try and crack a joke, he would just stare at you until either you awkwardly coughed, or he just shook his head and looked away. If you would try and ask him questions, he would give you short, one-word answers that got you nowhere.

He still annoyed you. Especially when his hand would brush against yours as he handed you some rations. Or when he stood so close you could smell the earthy, heady scent that made your head spin. Or when you would feel him watching your ass as he boosted you up to an area you couldn’t reach, but looked away quickly whenever you glanced back at him to try and catch him in the act.

Joel was still a bastard, because he wouldn’t say anything about those moments. But later you would replay them in your mind, helpless to the memory it brought to the forefront of your mind, unable to suppress it any longer.

It was embarrassing, how often you had slipped your hand between your legs as you thought of Joel at night. In the back of your mind, you could almost remember the feeling of his fingers playing with you instead. You would try to relive how it had felt for those fingers to be rubbing your clit and thrusting in and out of you. You would visualize being bent over your own kitchen counter as he fucked you against it, moaning into your pillow as you made yourself cum again and again just from the memory of his touch.

That memory almost felt like a hallucination, the fact that you had actually had sex with the grizzled, stoic survivor seeming more like a fever dream than reality. At times you were certain you really had just dreamt it. But then you would remember the morning Joel had passed by you as you sat on your porch, drinking coffee from an engraved mug, and how fast he had looked away as his steps quickened past your picket fence.

Oh, so he does remember, you had realized as you hid a smirk behind another sip of your coffee, glad you had been sitting outside that morning to catch his reaction to you drinking from that mug.

It was infuriating, because that heat that simmered between the two of you was still there, even as you both tried your best to ignore it in the light of day. What you did with yourself at night with the memory of him, however, was your secret alone.

And that was fine. You were finally settling back into the calm that Jackson offered. Those hiccups Joel had thrown into your practiced routine were smoothing over with the strange, unspoken truce between the two of you.

But then that was also ruined, the night Tommy actually did manage to take you both out for those drinks.

Your discomfort at the situation was matched only by Joel’s as Tommy shoved whiskey filled glasses into his hand and then yours. You shot a glance at Joel from the corner of your eye, watching as the man lifted a shoulder in a resigned shrug before tossing back the shot, followed by Tommy and then you.

Tommy’s joy as he ordered another round was almost infectious, a smile tugging at your lips as you glanced over The Tipsy Bison to see it busier than it was most nights. Either the warmer weather was brightening everyone’s spirits, or they all just had the same spontaneous burst of energy that Tommy had when he showed up on your doorstep to drag you out with him. Joel had been standing behind him, looking more uncomfortable than you had ever seen him as he looked anywhere but at you while you stood in your doorway.

The second sign that your fever dream of him was real, and that he remembered it just as much as you did.

“So,” Tommy sighed after knocking back another shot, placing his cup down and grabbing the bottle of whiskey the bartender had left to make refills easier for the three of you. After refilling his glass, Tommy turned back to you and Joel with an easy grin. “I’ve heard good things about your patrols.”

Neither you nor Joel said anything as Tommy sipped from his glass, waiting for you to reply. Which you didn’t.

“Guess you don’t hate each other as much as you thought,” he teased, waiting to see if he could get a reaction out of either of you.

You merely shrugged, and Joel took another sip of his whiskey.

Tommy sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the bottle to refill your glass once you finished it off.

“Well you're both chatterboxes, aren’t you?” he muttered, shooting you both a bemused look, though it held a fondness to it. “Can’t imagine all the riveting conversations you must have on those patrols.”

You glanced at Joel as you sipped at your refilled drink. Neither of you had spoken about the heated argument and ugly words you had thrown at each other during your patrol to the ski lodge, or the panic attack that he had witnessed you having.

The latter you figured he avoided mentioning out of some kind of understanding. You remembered seeing him stumble out of the bar last winter, how he had leaned against the frozen pillar for support. How you had approached him to put a hand on his shoulder, just as he had done to you, even as you both flinched away from being touched during your respective moments of anxiety.

But the argument, you weren’t sure why Joel never brought up again. He had made his opinion of you and your history with the Fireflies, his disdain for the tattoo on your skin, quite clear. Whenever you felt confused on how he had seemed to just let it go, you remembered that look he had given you when the storm had begun to clear outside; the realization you weren’t privy to passing over his face before he offered an olive branch in reaching out his hand to help you up, an unspoken peace offering you had accepted. You didn't know what had spurred him on to extend that unspoken understanding that had settled the disdain-fueled friction between you, but you figured maybe it was also the reason why he never brought up the argument again.

Your name being spoken pulled you out of your internal monologue, and you turned your head to see Tommy looking at you, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Hm?” you hummed, about to take a sip from your drink before you realized it was empty.

Tommy reached out for the bottle again, whiskey pouring into your glass as his brow smoothed out and he smiled cheekily at you. A glint of mischief was in his eye, a flush from alcohol tinting his cheeks.

Oh, this was either going to be very good, or you weren’t going to like this at all.

“When are you finally gonna let me set you up with someone?”

You coughed, holding a fist up to cover your mouth as you nearly choked on your whiskey.

“Sorry?” you spluttered, baffled at the sudden topic change as Tommy’s smirk widened, and you felt a heavy gaze settle on you from your other side.

“Come on,” Tommy drawled, his voice playfully boisterous as he leaned back against the bar. “Having somebody is great! And I haven’t seen you with a beau since the moment I met you.”

A laugh escaped you, turning into a fit of disbelieving cackling spurred on from the whiskey as you shook your head at your friend.

“If Dina hasn’t gotten anywhere in that hopeless endeavor, neither are you,” you teased, your laughter doubling at the playful roll of his eyes.

“Qué mala eres." The Spanish rolled off his tongue in a sigh, the language slip a sign that the alcohol was going to his head, and you sighed as you threw back another shot. “You’re missing out, my friend.”

Your head shook, looking away from Tommy only when the weight of the stare on your back had become so heavy that you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

When you turned back to Joel, though, his eyes had already moved away, scanning the crowd in the bar as he sipped silently at the whiskey glass in his large hand.

You blamed it on the effect of the alcohol as you observed how the lights of the bar seemed to brighten the brown hue of Joel’s eyes, making them appear a lighter color than how dark they usually looked. Despite your better judgment that told you to look away, your gaze followed the line of his nose down to his lips as he drank his whiskey, and you couldn’t help but wonder for a moment what it would feel like to have those lips pressed to your own, the one thing that he had denied you when he had fucked you.

His tongue darted out to lick at the drops of liquor on his lips. Desire pooled between your legs as you looked back up, and you jumped when you saw his gaze was fixed on you.

Oh, fuck, you thought to yourself, that desire intensifying as he arched a brow at you, and you realized that he had caught you looking.

Had caught you wanting.

Your hand tightened on your glass, glaring up at him even as his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk.

But it was there.

And it was satisfied.

That damn, nearly unnoticeable smirk made your cunt throb as you realized that you still wanted him. And judging from the look he fixed you with now, maybe Joel still wanted you too.

You looked away hastily, knocking the rest of your whiskey back right as Tommy spoke up again.

“So, big brother, how’d your date with Esther go?”

Whiskey got stuck in your throat as you choked, coughing as you lowered the glass, and Tommy’s hand began to thud on your back to help you clear your throat.

“You okay?” you heard him ask, and you nodded, clearing your throat of the more intense burn the alcohol had left as it didn’t go down your throat as smoothly as it was supposed to.

“Yeah,” you croaked, shaking your head with another cough as you waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You ignored the looks each brother was giving you as you stared straight ahead, refusing to look at either in protection of your own pride as Joel asked Tommy, “What’d you say?”

The question made you bristle, something in his tone telling you that Joel knew exactly what Tommy had asked, but wanted that line of conversation to continue.

Or maybe the whiskey was just going to your head, you thought as you turned back around to the bar and grabbed the bottle to refill your glass.

“Esther!” Tommy said brightly, and you held your glass a bit too hard. “How’d it go? Did you like her?”

Joel shrugging caught your attention, and you looked back to see he was looking out of the corner of his eye at you, before he looked away and replied to Tommy, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

You turned back to your glass, taking the whole shot before refilling it again.

“She has a great sense of humor,” you heard Joel add, your fingers tapping impatiently on the counter as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“See, I told you!” Tommy’s voice was full of excitement, even as your mood continued to worsen the more information was revealed about Joel’s apparent fucking date. “I knew you’d like her. You’re a good match.”

Another shot was knocked back in one smooth motion before you spun around to face the brothers again.

Joel went on a fucking date.

Joel “I’m not sticking around here”, doesn’t-want-a-relationship fucking Miller went on a fucking date.

The thought made you bristle with anger, even though you knew it shouldn’t. It made you mad because, fuck, going on a date meant that he might be getting his dick wet with other women, when he had already fucked you and was looking at you with that dark, sultry gaze earlier as he licked his lips and fuck.

It took you a moment before you noticed that the attention of both Miller men was on you, and you realized slowly that the expletive had actually left your mouth instead of just staying in your mind, interrupting whatever they had been discussing now.

You looked from Tommy’s confused expression to Joel’s blank one, the slight curl of his lip that he hid behind his whiskey glass telling you all you needed to know as your gaze shot out towards the room.

Over in the corner of the bar, Gustavo was playing his trusty banjo with a few other musicians. A small group of residents, friends and couples, were dancing in an open space next to them.

A smile grew on your lips as you slammed your empty glass back down on the counter, sending Joel and Tommy an easy grin while you walked backwards away from them.

“If you’ll excuse me, boys,” you drawled, giving them an over-dramatic flourish of a bow, one you thought Dina would be proud of, “I’m going to go dance.”

Your smile melted into a smirk, your gaze lingering on Joel for a second too long before turning around and confidently making your way to the area where people were dancing.

The shots were definitely going to your head, but you found it hard to care where the music was louder. It didn’t take long before you were swept up in a dance, spun around in the arms of a man whose name you couldn’t remember. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to let your hair down like this, but the rhythm of the music, the fast pace of the dance, and the alcohol dulling your thoughts made the memories you always tried so hard to forget fade further into the background.

And if the carefree feeling from dancing wasn’t making you laugh, then it was the feeling of a heated stare fixed on your back as you giggled and turned through the steps of the lively dance.

You could feel his eyes on you, and even though you didn't look back towards him as you danced, you knew it was him. That intensity was unmistakable, familiar now in its weight as it focused on you, even as you weren't looking directly at him. It spurred you on, getting closer to your dance partner than was necessary, and relishing in the feeling of that stare sharpening on your steps as you did so.

After a few songs you were starting to feel too hot, too dizzy to continue this charade. Exchanging lighthearted bows with your dance partner, you laughed a bit more before backing away. While you had approached the dancing with an ulterior motive—one that seemed to have been successful, judging by the gaze you could feel on you throughout the dances—you found that you had actually enjoyed yourself, your head clearer and heart more carefree than you had felt in ages as you tried to find where you had left the Miller brothers.

“Whore,” a voice pretended to cough as you passed by a table, and you paused.

You turned slowly, that rare happiness you had felt evaporating as you looked back to find a face you had a hard time placing a name to. He looked a little younger than you, his features weaselly as he held back a snicker, surrounded by a group of a few other stupid looking young men.

“Excuse m—”

“What was that?”

Your own voice was interrupted by another, one lower and more menacing than your own, coming from some place close behind you.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Joel had found you before you could find him. His face was carefully devoid of any telling emotion as he stared past you at the man who had apparently just majorly fucked up by calling you a whore.

You looked back as the man shifted, seeming unsettled by Joel’s presence, and then it clicked. This was that bastard that you had been drinking with last winter, the one who Joel had knocked on his ass in the snow outside this very bar.

“Alright,” you sighed as you pushed a few loose strands of hair out of your face. “Let’s just—”

“You heard me,” the man at the table repeated, trying to sound confident as he pushed himself to his feet, even as his voice was shaking. He glared back at Joel, seemingly spurred by some stupid sense of wounded pride or suicidal tendencies. “I called her what she is: a whore.”

You laughed, louder than you should, devoid now of any carefree feeling from earlier. Surely you were drawing the attention of those drinking nearby, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that right now.

“Right, I’m a whore for drinking and dancing with friends?” you asked, eyes blazing at the audacity of this man as you felt Joel shift and move around you. “Because I refused to sleep with you when you asked so pathetically?”

The man whose name you still couldn’t remember—something that made the situation even more hilarious, even though nobody knew that fact except for you—took a step towards you at that last jab you made, though his path was quickly interrupted as Joel stepped in front of you.

Joel’s hand grabbed the man’s shirt roughly, pulling the bastard closer as his carefully stoic face began to melt into a rare display of...anger? It was an intimidating, nearly terrifying look that you had seen directed towards you once, but now it was showing in defense of you.

“You speak that way to a woman again, and you won’t be so lucky as to leave with just a bruised ego this time,” he murmured, the low words deceivingly soft as they rumbled from his chest.

The weaselly man looked between Joel and you, forcing laughter even as he could tell he was outnumbered. His next words were his own fault, the final nail in the coffin as he sneered to Joel, “Shit, I can’t imagine the pussy is actually that good for you to defend—”

A crack filled the air as Joel’s fist collided with the man’s face, sending him flying back into the table where his friends sat behind him.

“Joel!” you shouted, grabbing his shoulder to try and pull him back, even as he didn’t budge. “Jesus, Joel, you can’t just—”

You continued to tug at his shoulder, and when he finally looked back at you, the man shifting on the table caught your eye, and your words cut off. The glint of something sharp followed the sound of glass shattering, and you stepped in front of Joel before you could think twice about it. Your arm lifted to defend yourself, letting out a yelp of pain as you felt the broken bottle slash across it.

Chaos descended upon the bar.

Shouting rose up around you as you saw a few men grabbing the stupid son of a bitch who just tried to instigate his own funeral by attempting to cut Joel. You turned, the sound of Tommy’s voice shouting pulling your attention as you saw your friend holding back his brother, who was trying to escape his grip to fight the bastard with barely contained fury.

“One punch,” you heard Joel muttering angrily as Tommy kept pulling him back. “Just one punch, teach him a fucking lesson—”

“You already taught him a lesson, Joel, you broke his fucking nose!”

You blinked, pulling your arm up to look at the blood trickling down it. While you felt slowed, almost out-of-body by the combined dampening of adrenaline and alcohol, the action seemed to finally grab the attention of Joel and Tommy. The men abruptly stopped their struggle as they turned to you.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tommy addressed the gathering crowd loudly, pulling their scattered attention to him as he stepped forward to grab your assailant by the back of his shirt collar. He shifted into his authoritative tone as he continued, “No more excitement for tonight.”

Tommy looked between the bleeding man he was holding onto and Joel, sighing before he said in a level tone that commanded respect, “Maria will have a word with you both tomorrow. For now, go treat your wounds.”

He gave a small shove that was hardly gentle to the guy, who stumbled away as his friends rose to escort him out. Tommy glanced at you, mouth opening as Joel pressed some clean napkins he had picked up from a nearby table against your bleeding cut.

“I’ll get her treated and home safe,” Joel said quietly to Tommy, the younger brother glancing between you two with a furrowed brow before you nodded at him.

“Go tell Maria what happened,” you added softly as you held the napkins to your cut. “I’m fine.”

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered something along the lines of not knowing what to do with the two of you, before leaving with a nod and short farewell.

Joel’s hand found a spot between your shoulder blades, gently ushering you out of the tense atmosphere you had created and into the fresh spring air outside. The chill of the late night breeze sobered you up a bit as he continued to lead you in a direction that you slowly realized was in the opposite direction of your house.

“Wait, but my house is—”

“I have first aid at my place,” Joel interrupted your confusion in a short tone, to which you raised an eyebrow in response.

“So do I,” you said slowly, watching as he stared at the dark street ahead like he was refusing to look at you.

Even with his hand still pressed firmly on your upper back.

“I don’t know where stuff is in your house," he muttered, still not looking at you as you turned onto the darker streets of one of the residential districts in Jackson.

You snorted, a small smirk creeping on your lips as you blamed the alcohol flooding your system for fueling your cheeky remark.

“Yeah you do,” you muttered, and he finally glanced back at you in disbelief when you added, “You know where the mugs are, at least.”

Joel shook his head as he led you to his house, saying nothing else aside from muttering to himself, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You laughed at that, unable to resist the humor in his exasperation at the situation, even as his hand finally fell from where he had been guiding you when you stopped outside a large house. When he led you up the steps and through the gate to his new home, you whistled low, nodding in appreciation at the scale of it.

“Damn, Joel, they set you up in a place way bigger than mine," you drawled, smirking again as you heard a quiet scoff escape him from where he had moved to walk ahead of you.

Yeah, the alcohol was definitely to blame for sarcastically teasing Joel so much, even as he continued to give you replies that were as short as always.

“Shut up,” he muttered, though not unkindly as you crossed the path up to the porch.

A smaller building nearby caught your eye as you waited for Joel to open the door, and you turned to see a garage with the lights on a bit farther away from the house.

"What's that?" you asked, nodding towards it, and Joel followed your gaze after the front door swung open.

"Ellie lives there," he muttered, offering no further explanation as he walked into the house, and you followed without any more questioning.

The few tones Joel spoke with were familiar enough now for you to know when not to press something. Even though you tolerated each other's presence more than you had before, Ellie was still a topic that he rarely discussed, and you didn't push him on it. It wasn't your business, anyway.

You glanced around you, trying to take in your surroundings as you entered the home, maybe gain enough of an opinion to critique his taste in décor if it was poor. But he herded you down the hallway, not giving you a chance to collect any witty remarks as you walked through a makeshift washroom-closet and into a kitchen on your left.

“Really, a kitchen again?” you teased, snickering at his annoyed huff as he sat you down at a small table next to a window, even as you were surprised at your own blunt reference to an act neither of you have dared to discuss openly since his return.

“You’re insufferable when you’re drunk,” Joel muttered, maybe more to himself than to you as he went back into the washroom to rifle through something.

“Says the drunk man who broke somebody’s nose,” you bit back with no small amount of snark, unable to hide your smirk as he reappeared with a first aid kit and a humorless expression that made you laugh.

Joel pulled the other chair at the table over next to yours, sitting in it as he set the first aid on the table.

“Insufferable,” he repeated to himself with a shake of his head, opening the kit and pulling out the supplies he needed to clean your wound.

Joel peeled away the napkins that had stuck to your skin, and if he saw you wince, he ignored it. He focused on his task, making no attempt at small talk as he made sure the bleeding had stopped before applying disinfectant. You held back any reactions from the sting, watching him as your head tilted in quiet observation, his silence giving you a moment to think.

Genuine surprise had flooded your being when Joel had stood up for you at the bar. While you had seen hints of a rare, odd sense of something almost akin to chivalry in the older man, the fact that he went so far as to break a man's nose rendered you into disbelief.

If somebody had told you months ago that Joel Miller would deck a man in the face because they had called you a whore and made an out-of-pocket remark about your pussy, you would have laughed for a long, long time in incredulity. Hell, you still wanted to laugh from doubt at it happening even now. There was no time, no universe, in which Joel—the man who had regarded you as nothing more than a nuisance—would commit such an act for you.

Yet here you were, sitting in his kitchen as he tended to a shallow wound that you had taken on his behalf. A favor for a favor, you supposed—his defense of your honor, your defense of his body.

“What?” Joel asked, sparing a glance up towards your analytical gaze and pulling you out of your inner monologue. He looked back down at your cut, wiping the cotton drenched with disinfectant over it again as you considered how to respond, wondering how much of your thoughts you wanted to reveal, if any of them.

“Just thinking about what a Southern gentleman you are,” you finally revealed in a light tone, holding back a snicker as he shot you a bemused glance.

“What?” He repeated, his voice holding more confusion this time, and you sighed. The sound was melodramatically tired, as if you were exasperated by his lack of understanding. Inspired by Dina's penchant for theatrics, even though you were only teasing right now.

“That’s the second time you’ve defended my honor,” you said the last few words cheekily, mocking a posh accent when you spoke of honor as Joel huffed at your strange show of dramatics. The next words were more serious though, more contemplative as you observed him and asked, “Trying to repay those debts?”

He shook his head, tossing the slightly bloody cotton pad to the side as he picked up a medicine cream that would help the cut heal.

“Still doesn’t count,” Joel muttered, squeezing some of the cream out onto the tip of his forefinger before gently running the rough digit along your injury. The feeling of his coarse touch against your skin made you shiver, the sensation a reminder of how it had felt when he was thrusting his fingers inside of you.

“Because I could have handled it myself?” you finally asked once you had pulled yourself out of the vivid memory, blaming both the flashback and the flush on your cheeks on the whiskey.

Joel hummed in affirmation of your question, screwing the top back on the cream once he had finished spreading it along your cut, and setting the tube back down.

“I lost my head,” he finally said quietly after a moment of silence, and your gaze refocused back on him from where it had been wandering around the room, taking in his interior design choices. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Eh,” you shrugged a shoulder, a small smile tugging at your lips. You didn't know why he had lost his head, but you found yourself unable to ask why before you admitted in a softer tone that you surprised even yourself with, “I don’t…not appreciate it.”

Joel didn’t look at you, and you didn’t look at him as you cleared that hint of softness out of your throat and mind. You were unaware of the sentiment until you had said it, and you were eager to rebury it in the back of your mind, in the empty grave all memories of Joel had managed to claw their way out of since his return to Jackson. Maybe if you buried it well enough now, he would stop haunting your subconscious.

You took another moment to glance around his kitchen that was much larger than yours. The sight of a coffee pot on the stove made you laugh, turning back to him with another smirk as he picked up a roll of gauze.

“Are you going to offer me a cup of coffee?” You asked slowly, not really sure where this constant influx of sultry snark was coming from, but you were powerless to stop it. Must be the alcohol.

You were surprised by the quiet chuckle that left Joel’s lips, a sound you had never heard before that made your heart skip a beat. The small smirk dancing on his lips made your stomach flip as he replied surprisingly smoothly, “I guess I do owe you one, huh?”

A smirk of your own was your only reply as he spared a glance up at you. Joel shook his head, gaze turning back down as he bandaged up your arm.

“That’s a bit overkill,” you remarked, examining the bandage he had wrapped around your entire forearm as you rotated it once he had finished.

“It gets the job done,” Joel sighed, packing the first aid kit back up and flipping it closed again. “You should be glad it wasn’t deep enough to require any stitches.”

“Because you would’ve done a shitty job and given me an ugly scar?” you asked, not expecting a response as he stood and took the kit back to the washroom.

“Yup,” you heard his deep voice respond from the other room, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the blunt admission as you leaned back in your chair.

It was...weird, this almost amicable atmosphere between the two of you. You had never spoken to each other so easily before, and you blamed the strange phenomenon entirely on the whiskey you both were drunk off of.

Glancing through the other doorway into the adjoining dining room, you noted that Joel had a lot of warm earth tones in his home. It was cozier, more homey than you would have expected. You wondered idly if Tommy or Ellie had helped him with the furniture choices, or if it had been all him.

The colors and the feelings they evoked also reminded you of how he smelled of that earthy scent you couldn’t name as he licked and bit down your neck.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat as arousal stirred within you. Joel walked back into the room, pulling your attention when he sank back into the chair that was still next to yours, his knee brushing against yours once he was seated.

Silence that had become typical between you fell again.

“So,” you started slowly, fingers tapping against the table, desire pooling between your legs as his knee brushed against yours again. You cleared your throat, trying to find a topic to distract yourself from the fact that his presence was much too close to you now, nothing distracting you from his annoyingly magnetic presence.

When a topic from earlier flashed through your mind, you grasped onto it quickly as you teased, “Esther, huh?”

Joel groaned, running a hand over his hair and effectively messing it up, the look of the disheveled, gray curls only making your lust stronger as your knees pressed together. Shit, maybe this topic wouldn't work.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, not looking at you in favor of rubbing the badly healed scars on his knuckles that you had noticed in your kitchen months ago.

His words were pointless though. Despite your best judgment that told you to take the opportunity to switch the topic, you had already started, and you wouldn’t stop now.

“With a name like that, she must be as old as you, right?” you asked, arching a brow as he turned to watch you blankly. You couldn't stop a snicker and smirk as you added, “Like, from the 1800's old?”

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rested an elbow on the table and dropped his face into his hand.

“Can’t imagine the sex is good, if she’s that old,” you continued, spurred on by his exasperation, and grinning impishly as he groaned into his hand.

“She’s nice,” he finally muttered, hand falling away from his face even as he kept looking down at the table, and you nodded along slowly.

“Right, nice," you assented, not sure why the words made you restless as you glanced away from him.

You kept nodding, looking around the kitchen, when your gaze fell on the coffee pot again. A smirk grew on your lips as your eyes darted back to his, and your chest fluttered in excitement when you saw he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes now.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t think you were the type who liked ‘nice’, Miller.” The words were dark, almost sultry, and you saw something in Joel’s gaze shift as it focused entirely on you.

“Oh yeah?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, his arched eyebrow begging for more of your defiance as he leaned towards you just an inch. “And what type do you think I like, exactly?”

Your fingers continue to tap a rhythm against the table, slowly moving closer to where his own hand rested until you were right next to it. Your touch hovered inches from him even as you continued to tap the surface around his fingers, avoiding touching him directly, only letting your fingers graze against his occasionally. A whisper, a temptation, a plea to touch him again.

“Sluts,” you answered slowly, the filthy term rolling off your tongue as Joel’s eyes darkened on the way your mouth formed around the word. “If I’m remembering correctly.”

He said your name in a low tone, the sound a warning, but you only saw it as a challenge.

You leaned closer, your fingers still dancing around his hand, head tilted with a sly smirk. Joel’s knee pressed harder against yours as you slowly spread your legs, and his gaze flashed down between them, his hand curling into a fist as he understood exactly what you were implying.

“You’re drunk,” Joel said quietly, voice husky as he tried to turn you down, even as he refused to look away from your opened legs.

“So are you,” you whispered, your fingers finally grazing directly over the top of his hand, and he jolted.

Joel leaned back from you, gaze darting away from you, and your stomach almost dropped from disappointment, maybe even embarrassment, before he looked back at you not even a second later.

“I—” Joel shook his head, swallowing thickly. “We shouldn’t—”

His eyes caught on your seductive smirk, and he shook his head again, the defenses in his gaze falling all at once as he breathes out, “Fuck.”

Joel’s hands were on you within a second of the murmured curse, pulling you roughly out of your chair and into his lap. His head buried in your neck, tongue and teeth finding your skin as you moaned loudly from the feeling of him suddenly pressing against you because finally, finally. You had been wanting him for weeks, even though you had tried to deny it, and now you finally had him again.

And maybe you were both drunk, maybe you both would regret it in the morning. But you wanted him now, just as much as he wanted you, and that was enough.

Your hips rolled, pushing your throbbing clit against the erection that was growing in his pants already, even as all he did was mouth at your neck.

“I make you this hard just by being in your lap, Joel?” you murmur, continuing to grind your hips against him, and he grunts.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered, pulling his head back, and you darted down towards his lips before he grabbed your chin in a firm hand.

“No,” he said stiffly, his gaze serious even as it became clouded in lust from the feeling of your clothed pussy pressing against his hard dick in his jeans.

“You have this rule for every girl you fuck?” you whisper, rolling your hips against his faster, and his look of annoyance faded into one of hazy desire as his eyelids fluttered and his head fell back. Your tone was more biting as you added, "Did you have it for Esther, too?"

“You really do have a sharp mouth, don’t you?” Joel muttered, and you laughed, jolting forward and pressing against his chest when he suddenly slapped your ass. “Pants off. Now.”

“So demanding,” you chastised, even as you stood and did what he told you to.

You made a show of it, your fingers circling the button of your pants before unbuttoning it. Joel’s eyes were glued to your seduction as you slowly unzipped your pants, then slid them down until they pooled at your feet on his kitchen floor, and you stepped out of them.

“Panties too,” Joel murmured, his hand rubbing his thigh as he leaned back and watched you, and you laughed breathlessly.

“What happened to your Southern manners?” you teased, and Joel raised an eyebrow.

Without a word, his finger reaches forward, dancing along the hemline of the dark, simple panties you were wearing. His finger curves under the band on your thigh, the rough pad of it skimming against your skin before he grabs the banding and swiftly yanks, snapping your panties and letting the fabric fall to the floor.

You blinked rapidly, unable to help the light laugh of surprise that left your lips even as he nodded towards the table behind you.

“Sit.”

Shifting backwards, you pressed your hands against the table and hopped up, bare ass pressed against the cold surface as you smirked at him. You spread your legs for him, and Joel inhaled sharply through his nose, his hand twitching on his thigh as if he wanted to touch you, but still he held back.

“Touch yourself,” he murmured, and your eyes widened before the words sent desire curling low in your stomach.

You placed your hand on your lower stomach, fingers spread as you dipped down lower, until you slid them through your folds that had grown wet from his words and your grinding against his hips.

“Already so wet,” Joel muttered, his hands moving to slowly unbutton his jeans even as he kept watching you touch yourself.

The sight of him unzipping his pants caused your breath to hitch, your wet fingers tracing up to begin to rub slow circles over your clit. You bite your lip, feeling the pleasure start to build as you touch yourself while Joel busies himself with pulling his cock out of his pants.

It was the first time you had actually seen it and, fuck, he was big. You already knew he was, had felt every delicious inch of him deep inside of you. But seeing the strong, stoic Joel Miller sitting in front of you now, legs spread with his cock in his hand, hard at the sight of you, was enough to shoot you even closer to an orgasm.

“Don’t you want to feel?” you whispered, shivering with a moan as you watched Joel lift one of his hands and lick his palm slowly. A brief thought passed through your mind, wondering what that tongue would feel like working at your clit instead of your fingers, and you began to stimulate yourself faster.

“Oh, I will,” Joel gave a small smirk, one that grew just a bit at the moan that left you at the seductive teasing and that downright fucking sinful smirk.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes glued to his hand as it found his dick and he began to pump himself slowly.

Joel grunted, and you locked the sound of it away for later, for those lonely nights where you had only your own hand and no other company to bring you pleasure. He fists himself almost lazily, eyes drinking you in as your fingers picked up on your clit. Your mouth opens, breath coming in small pants as your hips begin to lift towards your own touch.

“That’s it,” Joel murmured, and you resisted the urge to close your eyes and tilt your head back, too intoxicated by the sight of him getting himself off just from watching you touch yourself. “Make yourself cum because of me.”

A loud moan escapes your parted lips, hips bucking up into the air as you rubbed your clit faster, finding just the right angle as your pleasure crests, then explodes through your body as you lose yourself in the mind numbing bliss of an orgasm.

Joel stood as you moaned through it, hands finding your sides to lower you back against the table even as your thighs twitched from the aftershocks of the orgasm. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you spread across his table, your face flushed and pussy dripping wet from an orgasm, before he collected your release on his fingers and spread it across his dick.

He pumped himself a few times, placing the head of his cock against your entrance as you looked up at him, licking your lips in anticipation.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, and you nodded quickly, legs wrapping around his hips as he slowly pushed into you.

Even though you had already felt him inside you before, it felt just as delicious as the first time you had fucked as his dick entered you inch by inch. Your cunt gripped him tightly as he bottomed out, his palms placed on either side of you, bracing himself against the table as he leaned down.

For a moment you wondered if he was going to break his rule, but Joel stopped before he could get close enough to kiss you. He seemed to be trying to collect himself, brows furrowed and eyes dark as sin as he pulled out of you a few inches to thrust back in.

You moan at the same time he does, though Joel was much quieter as he pulled out to thrust back in again.

And again.

The sound of the wooden table creaking, the legs scraping against the tile of the kitchen floor as Joel fucked you was almost as deliciously sinful as the sound of skin slapping against skin with each thrust. One of your hands grabs the edge of the table above your head, your other hand snaking down to rub your clit as he begins to thrust faster.

“Fuck, you—” Joel cut himself off, still holding some part of himself back, even now when he was fucking you like you were both utterly depraved, sinful beings. Which you might be.

“So good,” he finally mutters, his hands coming up to grab the top edge of the table around your hand, his forehead falling to rest against the table next to your head so you could hear every grunt, every sharp breath of pleasure leave his lips as he fucked you. “Feel so good.”

“Mm,” you moaned, nodding desperately to agree even as the ability failed you to concisely word the pleasure that was building. “Close. I’m close.”

Joel also nodded beside you, turning his head so his lips could graze your ear.

“Cum on my cock,” he whispers against it, breath fanning against the sensitive skin, and your hips jerk forward to meet his hard thrusts, fingers desperately rubbing your clit until the climb of pleasure broke, and your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched as you cried out from the intense pleasure, soaking in the feeling of your quivering walls gripping every inch of his dick as he fucked you through your high.

“God,” Joel groaned, grabbing your hips as he leaned back, pulling you roughly against him to meet each of his hard thrusts. You fought to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you watched his head lean back, lips parted as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

He bucked into you hard once, twice, before pulling out, his hand finding his dick as he pumped the cum out of his cock to land on your inner thighs. Joel panted, eyes opening and glazing over from the ecstasy of his orgasm. His chest kept heaving as he continued to catch his breath, even as his gaze lowered to look at you spread out and well-fucked on his table beneath him, his cum dripping down your thighs.

“Here we are again,” you murmur once you could find your voice, the words hoarse, your eyebrow arching as a tired smirk turns up your lips. “I think you might have a thing for kitchens, Joel Miller.”

A huff that sounded a bit too much like a laugh escaped Joel’s lips, and he shakes his head as he tucks his softening dick away. He turns, walking over to his counter, and your head drops back against the table, mind swimming with the desire to give into the gentle lull of sleep in the sweet afterglow of sex.

“Here,” Joel murmured, and you opened your eyes to see he was holding out a hand towel he had used to clean his hand.

You take it with a nod of thanks, pushing yourself up with weak arms until you were sitting up well enough so you could clean the mess he had left between your legs once again.

He took the towel back once you were done cleaning yourself, moving into the attached washroom to supposedly drop it somewhere to be cleaned later before walking back out to meet you.

Joel’s hand reaches out, an offering to help you up, and you give a small, amused smile at the familiar situation as you take it.

You stumbled a bit as you stood, and Joel’s hand tightened on yours minutely, helping you steady yourself. You murmured a tired thanks, leaning down to pick up your ruined panties, shoving them in the pocket of your pants once you pulled them back on.

“I’ll walk you home,” Joel said quietly, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you looked at him. He rolled his eyes, gaze averting as he muttered, “I promised Tommy.”

“Ah,” you nodded, the thought of your friend making you wince because, shit, you’ve fucked his brother twice now.

Maybe Joel was thinking the same thing, because you both went quiet as you fixed yourselves up so you looked presentable enough in case you ran into anybody else on the walk back to your house, and not like you had definitely, without a doubt just fucked each other. Your legs were shaky as you left Joel’s house, but you had walked further distances on more unsteady legs before. This wasn’t that hard.

It was quiet, the chirps of insects the only sound you could hear other than the echoes of your shoes tapping against the pavement as you walked down the empty streets of Jackson. Luckily, you didn’t end up running into anyone as you rounded the corner onto your street, and saw the familiar Number 27 that you called home.

Or tried to call home.

You sigh quietly, hands shoved inside your pockets as you glance back at Joel. The two of you came to a slow stop in front of your fence, and after a moment of trying to catch his eye and failing, you shrugged to yourself as you reached out to push the gate open.

“We can’t do this again.”

The words made you pause, and you glanced over your shoulder back at Joel.

He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze turned up towards the night sky. Jackson wasn’t so well-lit that you couldn’t see the stars, and one glance up showed that the multitude of those stars were twinkling in the clear expanse of midnight blue before you looked back down.

Your eyes traced over Joel’s face, over the strong nose, gray scruff, and wrinkles that were from both age as well as a hard life of survival and loss.

“Yeah,” you found yourself agreeing quietly, your feet shifting away from him, walking backwards down your path as you didn’t look away from him just yet. “Yeah, we can’t.”

Finally you turned, walking silently the rest of the way up to your porch. It wasn’t until you were through your door and shutting it behind you when you felt that familiar, intense gaze on your back.

You ignored it.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller slowburn #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #a stranger's heart series

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1800nosleep · 1 year ago

Text

STUDYING WITH THEM !!

all of my characters i write for + my ocs!!

pt one

warnings;; gn! reader, cigarette and weed smoking, age of the reader will differ depending on the character, high school/ college student! reader, fluff to the extreme, so sweet you'll get cavities.

(a/n) since it's back-to-school season, I'm terrified for anyone and everyone in school, so have this as a soft reminder that school is coming or is already here !!

THE LOST BOYS

David;

do NOT go to david if you need help studying, he will not help you focus, he'll do the opposite

he is a fucking menace

your attention isn't on him, so he's clearly upset

he is chain smoking cigarettes as he attempts to distract you

"y/n, why are you taking so long?" "cuz you're not helping me at all, unlike i asked you to."

you've got two options, ignore him and have problems later, or risk failing

funniest thing about all this, I hc that david was once a college student

^ obviously when he was still alive but whatever

but i'm a strong believer that he was a history major

do NOT ask him to help you if you are a history major, he will bully you, and he will not help you at all

to conclude, don't study around him and don't ask him for help at all, it will be the worst and most stressful experience of your life

Paul;

he is so AHHHHH! i love paul so much, you don't understand

anyways, he is so helpful, unlike some people

he is asking you questions, reading your notes, and much more

blessing on earth frfr

he is so sweet and rewarding, every time you get something right, you get a small reward

whether it be a kiss, a small hickey, or a chance to sit in his lap

he wants his love to succeed in life, so he is very, VERY dedicated to his job as an at home tutor

even though he has no fucking idea what you are studying

sometimes he is stoned while he helps you and it isn't all that helpful, he'll fuck up on his words and will definitely confuse you

but in conclusion, he is much more helpful than previous people, and he cares a lot more about you succeeding, i love him so much

Marko;

lord help me, he is so unbothered

he won't help you unless you ask him

even when you do ask him, he will do the bare minimum

he is begging and pleading for you to quit studying and cuddle him and kiss him

like bro, please

anyways, when he does help you, he'll read you the textbook in the most teenage boy way ever

he is struggling to read the most basic words ever

learning disability marko my beloved

but he is constantly asking you to tell him how to read and pronounce the words to the point where it feels like you're the one helping him study

"babe please, how do you say this?" "babe please, please!"

if you don't help him, i swear to god

in conclusion, marko tries when you want him to help but just know, that you'll be his tutor more than he'll be yours

Dwayne;

husband

anyways... he is such a sweetheart when he helps you

lemme set the scene cuz lord

you're sitting on his lap, you're textbook in hand, his arm around your waist and his head on your shoulder

he's softly reading to you as you take notes and his voice is so soothing like GOD PLEASE !!!

"are you still paying attention?" "come on, tell me what I just said to you."

bitch if you aren't paying attention, i just, UGH

similar to paul, he is a strong believer in rewarding his lover when they do well so expect a lot of kisses and cuddles after your little study session

i love him so much lord help me

he is so caring and loving when it comes to you're education, also similar to paul, he wants to see his lover succeed in school

so of course he is helping you in any way possible

in conclusion, dwayne is another blessing on earth, who cares about his lovers education and desires to see them succeed

thank you for coming to my ted talk

anyways thank you for reading

likes and reblogs are appreciated and hcs about our boys are very much welcomed in my inbox !!

please do not steal or repost my content as that is plagiarism and a crime

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #marko the lost boys

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sithlordchopper · 2 years ago

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Tech x Reader (implied female, no y/n)

Tech decides to clarify something that has been on his mind as you two are stuck alone in a broken lift

18+

Word Count: 8194

Warnings: NSFW, face fucking, phone (comm channel) sex, oral sex, dirty talk, cum swallowing, slightly dom Tech, armor kink, mentions of voyeurism

"Can I ask you something?"

Your hands stilled as you took a second to comprehend what was just said to you. Reaching down to carefully put the panel still attached by it's wires against the wall of the lift, you let out a warm huff of air, scrunching down on your knees further as your head lolled down and to the side, you could feel the warmth of your breath radiate back into your face from just how close you were to the durasteel plate lining the lift wall.

"No, Tech, I haven't finished disconnecting the wires from the lift control panel, it's too dim in here and I can't quite see what I-"

"That was not the subject of my inquiry, but I do appreciate your honesty." Tech interjected, standing to your right. He did not change positions to look down at you as he attempted to clarify what he meant. His hands were still busy at work within the right side control panel located within the lift, or so you thought. From your position crouched on his lower left you couldn't really see much of what he was doing. For all you knew, the clone was elbow deep inside the walls of a broken Imperial lift, hard at work trying to fix a broken circuit. The light on the side of his goggles was still on, yet he stopped moving before reaching up to turn the light off. The small bit of illumination provided from the light now gone as the rich red glow from the emergency shut off light above, embedded in the ceiling was all that was left.

Turning to now look at your compressed form, Tech could see you without blinding you, albeit the red light did not allow for the eye to pick up much detail, especially from that distance. The sound of Tech shuffling around was enough to cause you to look up at him, instinctually turning towards the source of the sound.

"What did you want to ask me then?" You really had no idea where he was going with this. Your head was swimming with a thousand different thoughts right now, and for the first time in a long time, Tech was not one of them. Being trapped inside an inoperational Imperial Lift in a now abandoned outpost facility was the first and only thing that had your undivided attention. Yet every passing second where you and Tech were not working in tandem to get yourselves out of this situation, the realization that you and Tech were trapped together, in the tightest and most secluded place you could possibly fathom grew, until it was at the forefront of your brain. Still, you had no idea what to expect from the technician as you glanced up at him and placed the spanner grasped in your left hand onto the cool redlit durasteel floor.

Making eye contact with you, Tech blinked and then looked back into the opened control panel he had his hands inside. You couldn't extrapolate much emotion or intention from the extremely brief glance you two threw at one another, however, you knew that whatever it was, it was distracting enough to cause Tech some discomfort. He was still wearing his helmet after all, which blocked out all facial cues, except for the ones he unconsciously made with those brown eyes of his. Even so, you had no read on the trooper, but the lift was getting warm and any second longer you spent in here you swore you would begin to go stir crazy especially if Tech didn't get on with it.

"Why do you look at me so often?" Tech stated in a very flat and critical manner, his voice catching you off guard and pulling you from the false sense of comfort provided by the previous silence. By the sound of it, Tech really had no idea. Not that you expected him to, but you were thrown off by how candid he was being. Before you could reply, Tech reached back up to turn the light on his goggles on once again and he resumed tinkering around in the opened panel.

"I need some more to go off of than just that, Tech." You countered, trying to keep your cadence and tone as close to his previous delivery as possible, not wanting to sound nervous.

"Let me rephrase my question." He kept his head straight, as you decided to take a much needed break from fiddling with the panel you removed from the wall earlier and changed positions to be sitting flat on the ground, back against the wall that was adjacent to you and Tech, on the left.

"Go on, I'm ready." You added, stretching out your legs behind Tech and removing your gloves.

"The frequency of you simply glancing in my direction as often as you do is far too low of a probability to be coincidental. I was wondering why that is. I tried to ask the opinion's of Hunter and Echo but they dismissed my concerns...seemed to find it quite amusing for some reason they did not fully explain to me. " You could hear the irritation towards his brothers in his voice, something about this was bothering Tech more than he was currently displaying physically. That compounded with the swift dismissal from Hunter and Echo, Tech was sure to be feeling disregarded about the true nature of your curious behavior, like he was the only one not in on this silly little secret.

Shit, did he know? Did he figure it out, or had Hunter been noticing you all but gawking at his brother and trying to keep your composure, and divulged Tech?

"Tech, don't put too much stock into whatever your brothers told you, you had a very valid question." You hummed out, feigning ignorance to his predicament and just flat out refusing to answer his question. Closing your eyes and crossing your arms you took in the borderline serene stillness of the broken lift before Tech could notice your own inner turmoil unfolding.

"So you do know you are doing it." Tech blurted out too quickly and curtly for your comfort as your eyes snapped back open and your hands grew clammy. Without thinking you recoiled your legs, knees moving up to your chest and jaw now clenched shut. Once you stopped moving, you realized that you couldn't hear Tech clamoring around in the wires anymore.

"D-doing what, looking at you?" You could feel your heart rate steadily increasing. "I didn't realize that I wasn't allowed to look at you or your brothers." The reply you gave was not very succinct or even a real reply at all, but the increase in adrenaline from Tech's impromptu interrogation was enough to ground your wit, preventing too large of a silence from being created and hopefully preventing Tech from prying some more. "There's some sort of clone joke in there somewhere, you know, similar appearance and...h-how you all look." You chuckled, but your accidental inflection on 'look' just gave away far too much, far too quickly and Tech's mind had already begun placing the pieces together. Tech could feel his mouth curling into a slight smirk before regaining his trademark level headed composure, however he stood still and didn't dare turn to look at you even as he formulated his reply.

"And how do they...look?" He mimicked your emphasis on 'look' so well that you didn't even catch the fact that Tech said 'they' and not 'we'.

"You look like.." you were trying to pick your next words oh so carefully, "you know...Jango Fett, tan skin, dark hair, brown eyes. You know, your nice, normal features."

Tech's hand dropped the tool he was holding within the panel he was working on as soon as 'your nice, normal features' fell off your tongue.

Shit, you said 'your nice features' and Tech heard it.

"So Hunter was telling the truth." Tech clicked the light on his goggles once again, turning the bright beam off as he turned to see you balled into yourself on the floor. Wide eyed, you looked up at Tech and suddenly back down, eyes falling level to the wall across from you, red light reflecting off of the shiny surface.

"Tech, what are you getting at?" Carefully, you stretched your legs back out in front of you trying to act as naturally and unassuming as possible as Tech stood there and observed. Moving his hand up to his mouth, he cleared his throat slightly before indulging you.

"Hunter told me that all of your glances and staring was due to the fact that you are attracted to me. I, however, did not believe him to be telling me the truth at the time." He pulled his left hand up to his helmet, fingers resting on the side of his head like he was deep in thought, right wrist resting on his hip slightly. "But that changed once you said 'you look nice' rather than 'they look nice.'"

It was far too dim in the room for you to gauge the expression of the clone standing above you. Not even sure if you did want to know, your mouth began to move before your brain had time to scrounge a comprehensive retort together. "Did you wait to ask me this until you got me alone because you're into me too?"

"Now that is an interesting extrapolation." The sound of Tech's smile was audible, causing you to swallow thickly before taking a steady breath.

"You aren't denying it." You couldn't think of any other way to get that statement out, so you just went for it. You two were already stuck in a lift so you might as well get it out in the open. At that thought, you glanced down at his codpiece, but were careful to keep your gaze moving, lest he catch you in the act of checking him out right now.

"That possibility was considered, however I did not want to corner you. Although from what I have read, that is sometimes the best way to invoke arousal with some individuals."

Did he really just say that out loud? There is no way that Tech wasn't flirting with you right now, but to be honest, you still couldn't get a good read on the clone.

"You didn't answer my question, Tech." You were trying to remain calm and keep your cool, and so far it was working. But you were still nowhere as calm as Tech seemed to be in this moment.

"I...have considered my feelings towards you and have come to the conclusion that I am attracted to you as well. Yet, I also came to the conclusion that that is irrelevant. The probability that you were attracted to my brothers was much higher than the probability of you being attracted to me; however, now that I know you do have a thing for clones, and more specifically, me, I have much more information to analyze and consider." Tech was now standing right in front of you, his arms crossed, legs apart and positioned over yours, still currently outstretched. Tech all but had you cornered in this lift, not like you could go anywhere else, it was broken, but damn was he right about being cornered creating a heightened state of arousal.

"What do you mean, a thing for clones?" You had an idea of where he was going with this, but your brain was short circuiting and you were left to think with the throbbing heat developing between your thighs instead.

Tech noticed you shift ever so slightly on the cold hard floor. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at you. Noticing a shift in his position as well, you whipped your head up to look at him, making sure to not look him up and down or stop your eyes on his body anywhere except his face.

"There are countless others on the run from the Empire and none of them are anymore wanted than we are. It is no more dangerous to travel with us than it is any other group or individual. Not to mention that statistically, you are not going to find another group of clones in the same predicament as we are currently. So why opt to travel with us?" Tech's breathing remained calm, yet you could hear the slight rasp growing in his voice as he explained his thinking to you. You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing came out and you quickly shut it, huffing out slightly as you crossed your arms once more. He had a point but you weren't going to tell him that. He doesn't need any more ammunition against you, especially at a time like this. Tech shook his head slightly "I do not understand what is so appealing about us, sexually, I mean. We are no greater than any othe-"

"I like your armor. Brown eyes are my favorite. And you seem so stoic and hard to rouse. I want to know what makes you lose focus and let go. I want to watch you come undone." You can't help yourself as it all comes out all at once and it finally clicks once you're done telling Tech everything…well almost everything. The realization that Tech knows exactly what he's doing hits you hard and fast; a lesson you just can't seem to learn and now you are sitting in a durasteel prison of your own making knowing that Tech knows that you know exactly what he's doing, and it's getting to you far more than you or he ever thought it actually would.

"No, I did not purposely wait to get you alone to ask you if you were glancing at me intentionally." Tech finally answered your question that by now you totally forgot all about. You blinked at him before he silently chuckled to himself. "The answer to your question earlier?"

"Riiight." You nodded slowly, looking back up at Tech, trying to glean something from his eyes from behind that helmet of his. "But here we are, alone. Alone alone." You emphasized. Tech's stance remained unchanged but his blank look made you nervously reconsider your mounting proposal. You could feel the throbbing between your legs strengthen and felt your face get hot as you blushed. Good thing the light in the lift was red so it prevented any change in your cheeks from being noticed.

"What are you suggesting exactly?" Tech was quick to inquire, squinting his eyes. His curiosity was noticeable but he tried his damnedest to prevent you from also coming to the realization that he was feeling the warmth of arousal too. Tech hardly ever had to worry about others being able to tell exactly what he was thinking or feeling but the way you were looking at him made him feel as if he was a very hard puzzle that you had just solved. Noticing how much you were squirming on the floor underneath him, he hadn't even considered that standing over you like this would cause such a reaction especially between your legs, as he was also resisting displaying how turned on he really was. However, observing you wasn't enough. He needed to experiment with you a bit and wanted to see what you would do next if he stepped a fraction closer to you. He gave you no time to reply before he took a slight step towards you, his codpiece all but touching your lips, his arms were now fully crossed across his breastplate, and his eyes half lidded and glued to the very slim distance between your mouth and his codpiece. He watched as you took a tentative breath and licked your lips. I would wager that her tongue is so soft Tech thought to himself as you sat there, gritting your teeth and tensing your hands into fists by your sides, fighting every urge not to reach up and touch him.

"It seems to me that you already have it figured out." You couldn't help the slight sarcastic tone of your statement, but Tech found it amusing that you suddenly had an attitude now that he was towering over you, almost like you wanted him to do something about it to force you into admitting every salacious detail of what you wanted him to do to you; what you wanted to do to him.

"There was little doubt that I was wrong. After all, I am hardly ever wrong..."

You couldn't tell if he was being genuine or snide, but something about how he was towering over you, arm crossed, and all on display made you think the latter.

So he went into this mission knowing full well that shit would go south, thanks to that lab experiment bullshit brain of his, and decided that's how he's gonna make a move? Your thoughts were scattered, you couldn't help feeling turned on yet you were beginning to feel irritated, why did he wait so long to bring this up?

Unclenching your fists, you crossed your arms once more and glanced up at the tall clone currently standing over you in a more than suggestive manner. Your glance morphed into a glare and you exhaled forcefully, trying to think of something intelligible to say. However, Tech's expression shifted slightly derailing your train of thought. You couldn't see his mouth, but by the way his brown eyes squinted slightly, you could just tell he was smirking down at you.

"Arrogant little—" You gritted out through clenched teeth, eyes now squinting in annoyance before being cut off by the clone in front of you.

"Took you long enough to articulate yourself." Tech matter-of-factly pointed out. Despite his flat delivery you knew he was enjoying himself more than he led on.

"Very cocky but I guess that's to be expected of a clone whose brain was engineered to be bigger than his di–" You managed to snap out quickly before Tech cut you off once more, sensing where you were going before you even had time to get there.

"Oh, I think you enjoy my sense of confidence immensely by the way you are clenching your thighs and fighting the urge to do anything to me." So Tech definitely knew what he was doing to you, that asshole.

"You just said that you didn't think I returned your feelings, how does that equate to you having no doubt?" You had no idea what he was getting at or trying to prove, but it seemed like he was having too much fun playing with you for him to be sincere right now.

"Ah, I said that you returning my attraction was improbable, not impossible. I did not doubt that you had some sort of interest in me, just that it would have been worth my time to pursue," his voice remained in that typical Tech tone, drenched in rationality and only a slight amount of the condescension that kept your hands busy when you were up way too late, "evidently it is well worth my time. I just had no idea how to press this matter…" Tech couldn't help his almost giggle as he finally admitted that this was something he had considered previously, yet you noticed immediately as his voice stilled after admitting to his trepidation. You began to feel bad for giving him so much lip earlier because he really couldn't help it. He was only going off of what he most likely researched, whatever Hunter and Echo told him, and now, he could only respond and react to the information that you were providing. You took a deep breath and looked back up to Tech. He was still standing over you however his confidence in his current position and choice of action were starting to wane noticeably.

"Tech, do you trust me?" You said in a kind and steady voice, not letting your nerves get the best of you for what you were about to do.

"Of course, you have been kind to me since the day you joined us. I have no reason not to trust you fully." His reply was genuinely sweet, however you didn't let that sway you from leaning forward and placing a swift kiss on the outside of his plastoid codpiece. Pulling away from his armor, your lips created some slight suction, causing that distinct 'mwah' sound to reverberate through the small lift. Tech's face flushed and his goggles began to fog up at the slight pressure your kiss provided to his growing erection underneath his armor and the sight of you pulling your mouth away from between his legs. Tech let out a stifled grunt and stood rigid as a board, noticing your sudden shift in demeanor as well as his own. Regretfully, he wished that you retained that fiery defiance you had not long ago. Something about him watching you get aggressive over your feelings towards him was providing an ever growing stream of warmth to flow down to his center...and then some.

Looking up at the clone through your eyelashes, you licked your lips and sat back against the wall again.

"Oh, I might have miscalculated the effect your eyes have on me. The way you stare at me..." Tech trailed off as he closed his eyes and thoughtlessly palmed at his codpiece, still moist from the kiss you had just planted upon it. You watched in awe as the clone all but rutted himself against his own armor, trying desperately to soothe the excitement you instilled in him.

"Take that off and I can help you out with what's underneath." You chimed and Tech complied without hesitation. Watching as Tech unclipped his codpiece, you sat back and waited in anticipation. You wanted to watch this man come undone and you were determined to make it happen. Eyes glued to his fingers, the piece of plastoid fell to the floor of the lift with a muted clatter, but what really caught your eye was the sight of Tech's erection straining against his blacks. "Can I help you with something there, sir?" Tech let out a slight moan at the new title. You have only ever called Hunter sir out of respect, since he was technically the one in charge. However, the way it affected Tech was something neither of you expected. "You would like being called sir." You giggled as you leaned forward once again, hot breath exhaling out of your lungs and onto Tech's clothed dick.

"And you would like being cornered by a clone in a lift." Tech shot back, his voice straining as he felt the warm wetness of your breath over his now aching cock. Evidently he wasn't done trying to get you riled up either, though if he knew of the puddle you were sitting in right now... You sat thinking for a second, trying to ignore the fact that you were eye level with Tech's hard dick. Inches from your mouth, if he were to remove it from his under armor clothing you're sure that it would smack you in the face.

Oh Maker, that sounds wonderful.

You couldn't help the drool beginning to pool in your mouth at the thought of Tech this close to your face. "I would like it even more if that clone cornering me ordered me to suck his dick." A new sultry tone took over as you watched his dick throb and pulse. Damn, if you knew this was how this mission was going to go you would have pushed for it sooner.

"Is that so? And here I thought that you were one for voyeurism, as all you ever seem to do is stare at me..." Tech leaned down mid sentence and you hissed as his dick was removed from right in front of your flushed face, instead his face replacing it as he began to whisper, "and touch yourself while whimpering my name when you think everyone else is asleep."

You gasped at Tech and swung your arms up to swat at any part of him you could hit. You were able to knock that stupid bucket and visor from around his head, but he had anticipated your reaction and subsequent movements and managed to snatch both of your arms with his right hand and pin them up above your head and against the cold durasteel. You hissed once more at the sudden shift of temperature but that was soon forgotten as Tech grabbed his helmet from the ground where it fell next to your knee and abruptly smashed his lips against your own, eyes fluttering shut. He pulled away just as soon as he initiated the kiss and his eyes gleamed. "Interesting. I will need to research the effects of kissing and endorphins once we get back to the Marauder. You stopped resisting me immediately." There he was, back to his normal Tech self, albeit briefly, as he returned his gaze to you and your pinned arms, goggles fogging once again as he replaced his helmet upon his head and took a breath.

"How do you know that I-that I..."

"That you touch yourself to the thought of me? You are not as quiet as you think you are, darling. You really think I would not notice your high pitched whines and pleading. Sound carries exceptionally well along the metallic walls of the Marauder, not to mention the lewd sound of your fingers squelching in and out of yourself as you whine for me." Tech kept his voice steady, but there was a hint of arousal in there as you noticed the fog on his goggles growing once again. Too bad you couldn't see the way Tech's face was flustered, red light be damned. "It is also worth mentioning that Hunter can smell it. He can smell what I do to you as soon as he enters the room. Of course he would relay this information to me once I finally asked him about you and your wandering eyes. He does not like how…distracting it can be." Tech mused, so proud with himself over the way he got you so worked up without even trying to but he felt an uncharacteristic pang of jealousy over what Hunter told him several rotations ago.

You couldn't help but feel at a disadvantage here. Tech really did have the upper hand which was not something you expected for the type of conversation you two were having. "And what about what I do to you? Or does having your arms elbow deep in an electrical panel just really get you going, Mr. Technician, sir?" You nodded your head towards his very evident erection. The inclusion of his new pet name caused a groan to escape from his throat involuntary. You got him there and eagerly awaited his reaction.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Tech stood up straight, towering over you once more as he continued to restrain your arms overhead. "Since you have presumably been 'run through' by several other clones in the past, you know what to do." Tech was regaining that cockiness that he had at the beginning of this conversation, and finally to your anticipation, removed his throbbing cock from underneath his blacks. You let out a small sigh that sounded more akin to a moan and Tech glanced down at you. Carefully pulling his helmet up, he rested it over his head in a similar manner to how you’ve seen Wrecker wear his through downtime during missions and you watched patiently trying to piece together what he was going to do next. Before you had a chance to open your mouth and ask for more direction or question what he was doing, Tech grabbed the base of his hard cock holding it straight out from himself and spit, coating his cock, making it nice and slick. At that display of himself and his accuracy you opened your mouth and whined, tongue darting between your lips. Not only did Tech just insinuate that you had been passed around between plenty of his non-batch brothers, but he made it sound like you liked being used as a clone plaything. The mental image of that alone was enough to send you down a spiral of arousal and it was maddening that you couldn’t even touch yourself about it. You tensed your restricted wrists at the impulse to relieve some of that tension, only Tech did not let go of your arms.

“Tech!” You whined, trying your hardest to sound as desperate and needy as you possibly could, hoping to receive some pity from Tech as you watched how his dick throbbed in his hand. It worked, and Tech began pumping himself to the sight of you throwing a tantrum at being denied sexual gratification, hoping to give you something to look at.

He stopped stroking himself to put his helmet back on over his head fully and you huffed out in protest, not enjoying that your personal show was cut short for a seemingly stupid reason.

“I like your armor~!” Tech mocked you as he grabbed his dick once more, picking up on your displeasure towards something so trivial as him stopping to put his helmet back on. Tech wouldn't consider himself one for mocking others, but the way it was working on you was duly noted as he would surely remember this for later. You grunted in response to Tech and rolled your eyes, face burning much hotter than before.

Analyzing his current situation, Tech decided to do something risky, but he knew the pay off would be wonderful. Angling his hips closer towards your mouth, he glanced from your lips to your eyes back down to your lips, noticing just how much he was currently holding your undivided attention. Time to put everything his brothers implied about the true nature of your behavior to the test. “Now use that pretty mouth of yours. That is an order, do not make me repeat myself.” Tech waved his spit coated cock in your face and you leaned forward, letting him gently smack it against your cheek. It was so damn hard and so damn hot, you could feel your face being smeared with his spit and it only made you squirm against the floor even more. You looked up at him, desire and lust painted across your face, and could see that his eyes were back to their original half lidded position as you opened your mouth and made eye contact with him, sticking your tongue out and licking the head of his dick. Tech let out a moan followed by some curses in what sounded like Mando’a. You pulled away from him and grinned, noticing how Tech’s eyes were now completely shut.

He's moaning this much and I've barely touched him, no wonder he waited until we were totally alone.

Now it started to make a bit more sense as to why Tech would have waited this long to ask you what was up, he wanted to be sure he would be able to get away with this without the possibility of Hunter, or anyone for that matter, hearing him. That only increased your desire to make him lose control. Thinking about the fastest way to get this man to unravel, you started to pull your wrists from Tech’s loosening grasp once more. This time he hummed and obliged, letting your arms down and you immediately grabbed the base of his cock with both hands, causing the clone to choke out a grunt. Not giving him time to prepare himself, you positioned his cock at the opening of your mouth and then pawed at his hips, causing Tech to buck forward and push his dick down your throat. You moaned at his sudden reaction to you grabbing at his waist and felt as his dick throbbed from within your mouth.

Hearing you, Tech pulled his hips back as quickly he thrusted them forward. He wasn't sure if what he just did was okay or if it's what you even wanted, but your expression was slightly reassuring. You sat there, eyes glazed over and glued in-between Tech's legs, hands gripping the sides of his armor, drool dripping down your mouth and off your chin as it began to pool between your legs. Eyes nearly shut and face on fire you slowly looked up at Tech's concerned gaze, taking in every inch of the armor clad clone. You wanted nothing more than to reach up and drag your hands down his chest, whispering all the dirty things swirling in your mind to him.

"Was that alright, I did not mean to…" Tech wasn't even able to finish his sentence as your current demeanor was far too distracting for his brain to function for once in his life. "Oh, my, you look so…mhmm." Once he began to speak, your focus was pulled away from his dick and back up to his face, however that was short lived as your eyes travelled back down his neck, torso, and once again, on to Tech's cock. Noticing how you looked him up and down, Tech's dick twitched, which only caused you to open your mouth and lick your lips in anticipation.

"Tech, that was more than alright. Do it again. I…you—mmhmm, tastes so good." You slurred out, barely able to think straight. You didn't have to tell Tech twice and just as quickly as he thrusted into your mouth the first time he did it again with slightly more force.

The quick and sudden addition of his cock to your throat was not something you anticipated so soon and it caused you to gag slightly. The wet sound of you choking on his dick filling the lift and you could feel Tech's dick, still down your throat, throb at the sound you emitted involuntarily. "Mmm you take clone cock down your throat exceptionally well. You have done this before." Tech's voice sounded unlike it ever had before, it was lower and raspier and by the way he fucked into your mouth it was evident that he was waiting for this moment for a long time.

In order to allow you to attempt a reply, Tech steadied himself as he pulled his dick from your mouth, moaning out, as you lifted your tongue slightly, licking the underside of his dick. You rounded your lips and applied some suction before Tech fully removed himself from your mouth, creating a slight 'pop.' Eyes glazed over, you looked back up at Tech, as he slowly started stroking himself to the sight of you, saliva dripping from your mouth and chin. "A-and what if I have done this before?" You spoke as clearly as anyone could after having a dick forcefully inserted into their mouth twice in quick succession. Truth be told it was hard for you to think and it seemed to get only increasingly hard for you to formulate more than disjointed thoughts and sentences.

Tech, dick in hand, reached up to remove his helmet and tossed it to the ground carelessly. Looking you over once more he opened his mouth to reply. “I would not say that your behavior would surprise me. I have seen the way my brothers look at you, I know what they are thinking as I think it too.” Tech's jaw tensed as he huffed out a response, voice even lower, nearly whispering even though the two of you were alone in that lift shaft, almost like he was ashamed of the way he thought about you. However you knew better than that. Tech might not be the most charming or tactful out of his brothers but he was headstrong and confident to a level most would ascribe to arrogance; being ashamed of his thoughts was not something Tech was known for.

All things considered, not to mention the way he was standing over you, cornering you within this little isolated lift, Tech's behavior had to be calculated. Nearly everything the man did was thought out well in advance and the few occasions where he improvised, well that was also planned.

You glanced up at Tech quickly, hoping he didn't notice the quick side-eye you gave him as a smirk crept up upon your face as you listened to him, gloved hand moving up and down along his dick. “You must be so distracted by that. Thinking about me being underneath someone else…one of your brothers perhaps.” You sat forward, closer to Tech’s hand, held steady and firmly around himself. Tech, looking down at you, raised an eyebrow. He was absolutely certain he knew where you were going with that little comment about being underneath one of his brothers, but he wasn't sure what you were going to do next until he decided for you, taking a step forward forcing you to back up immediately, head making contact with the cool durasteel behind you with a light ‘thwack.’

“I must admit, that thought has crossed my mind, but not for the reason you might be inclined to believe.” Tech’s demeanor was unintelligible, not like you could ever actually tell what was going on behind those damn goggles of his, but something about this was different than before, it almost seemed like Tech was still playing with you. Hard dick still in hand, he lined it up with your mouth, smearing more of your spit across your cheeks, "Truth be told I have imagined you underneath many men, underneath many clones," and with a single motion, Tech’s cock was being shoved back into your mouth, pushing your head backwards once more into the durasteel wall, this time with a much louder 'thwack.' To keep his balance, Tech held up an arm to rest up against the wall as he fucked into your mouth again, with his other hand falling down gently onto the top of your head. You tried your best to keep it together as the clone continued to thrust into your face. Tears spilled out from the corner of your eyes as you focused all your effort on timing your breathing and movements of your tongue together so every time he pulled out you had a swift moment to drink in a much needed breath of air before he sunk his dick back down your throat.

Reaching for anything to give yourself purchase, your hand instinctively raised and grabbed for any part of Tech you could touch, which happened to be high up on his thighs right below his toolbelt. The only sounds within the lift were Tech's grunts and moans and that undeniable wet 'glck glck glck' of someone being face fucked as your solid grip on Tech turned languid and your nails began to scratch across the plastoid surface with every snap of the clone's hips as he continued to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

Tech's grip on your head softened as he slowed down to a halt and pulled himself from your mouth with a breathy moan. Down your cheeks and face, your tears continued to fall, mixing with the saliva and traces of Tech's precum from in and around your mouth. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you cleared your throat, "now who sounds like a voyeur," you all but laughed out now that you were able to talk.

"That is cute that you would believe that watching you get fucked by my brothers is what I desire." Tech leaned down, his face right in front of yours and he grabbed your arms gently. His eyes darker than before "I think we both know that I have the capability to fuck you far better than anyone else." You watched Tech's eyes closely, not able to pick up on anything other than his arousal that was rapidly devolving into aggressive arrogance. It was not like you hadn't anticipated this behavior from Tech, he was engineered to be much more intelligent than others however he always seemed to be grounded and level-headed about that. After all, his intelligence was not through effort of his own, it's just how he was.

"You are awfully arrogant for someone who couldn't tell why the pretty girl kept looking at him." Now was not the time to get mouthy, as Tech, still holding your arms lifted them up over your head at your stupidly timed remark.

"You respond well to confidence and given instructions; two things that I excel at. Not to mention that-" Before Tech could finish his sentence, his comm buzzed from within his helmet, still lying on the cool floor where Tech has nonchalantly tossed it, interrupting the moment between you to thus far.

"Signal finally seems to be going through, Tech are you two still up in that lift?"

You let out a frustrated sigh as you anticipated the release of your arms after Echo had so graciously interrupted the two of you, however that release never came. Instead, Tech casually looked down to his helmet and then back to you, his expression was extraordinarily blank considering his face fucking session was just interrupted. His expression remained blank as he took both of�� your wrists into his right hand once more and bent down to grab for his helmet. Placing his helmet back onto his head, he could now respond to Echo as he returned his other hand to restrain your wrists once more but not before a new idea popped into your head as you sat as cool as you possibly could in this situation, not wanting to risk giving anything away to Tech, especially since he had a tendency be steps ahead, immediately comprehending your intentions before you could act upon them.

"Yes, we are still up here." Tech said flatly, his voice now back to its normal cadence and tone as he looked you up and down, grabbing his now half hard cock and suggestively waving it in your blushed face, making sure to gently slap it across your lips and cheek as if he was saying ‘now be a good girl and keep quiet.’

"Do you two need any assistance getting the lift up and running?" Echo's voice was still audible to both of you from within Tech’s helmet in the now silent lift and you sat forward in anticipation for Tech's reply.

"That is not necessary, we have everything under cont-'' before Tech could finish his sentence you leaned forward even further and opened your mouth, taking his dick into the warm wetness once again and this time you applied more than a generous amount of suction. Enough in fact to hollow your cheeks noticeably in the dim red light. Tech clearly did not anticipate this type of behavior, or more aptly, misbehavior, from you as he instinctually bucked his hips at your sudden touch and let out a stifled moan, trying not to let his brother hear him.

"Is everything okay over there?" Echo, quick to concern, promptly replied to Tech’s incomplete sentence and to Tech's relief, nothing in the clones intonation implied curiosity or smugness as would be expected from someone who just overheard someone else getting their dick sucked.

"Yes. We are almost finished." Tech gritted out as you continued to suck and lick at him while he tried his hardest not to moan out, lest you actually bring him to orgasm as he speaks to one of his brothers in real time.

"Okay, well, be sure to hurry up. Oh, and don’t mess with anything else. We don’t need to be signaling the Empire of another breach of security.” This time it was Hunter’s voice coming through. You two must have been up here for much longer than expected if he was contacting Tech.

“Copy that, Hunter. I estimate that we will be finishing up momentarily.” Tech all but spat out, trying to keep his voice as even as he could but obviously trying to wrap up the conversation in record time. Once the comm channel was quiet Tech reached up to turn his comm off before he spoke as he shot you a look brimming with disbelief, irritation, and arousal. However, to his annoyance you played coy, making sure to swiftly pull your head back without breaking the seal of your suction, creating a loud, wet ‘pop.’

"You are absolutely unbelievable!" As rarely as it happened, Tech had no words for what you just did. That was something he had not calculated for during his own mental playthrough of this mission beforehand, yet it did not go unnoticed. He would definitely be using this against you at a later date you were sure of it. But for the time being, you wanted to have a little fun with it. You watched as Tech reached again for his comm, turning it back on before Echo or Hunter decided to come looking for the both of you after your brief bout of dead air. You glanced at Tech through your lashes as you blinked seductively and once again took him into your mouth and started sucking with enthusiasm. With each swipe of your tongue, each bob of your head, Tech grew closer and closer to his climax. He was now thrusting his hips into your mouth and clenching his jaw, trying so damn hard to not let any sound escape from his mouth.

"Alright, let us know when you g-." Echo’s voice crackled over the comm for the last time as Tech abruptly reached for his comm switch, fingers rapping against his helmet urgently.

“I, Oh Maker, going to--Ahh!” Tech moaned out unexpectedly and loudly, his face burning red hot with a mix of unchecked lust and a dash of shame, breathing ragged as he hit the comm switch turning it off just in time to prevent anyone from overhearing his climax as he slammed his hips into your face, cock throbbing as his cum spilled into your mouth and down your throat. You gagged, followed by a muffled moan at the sudden warm liquid, not expecting Tech to full on orgasm from you pleasuring him as he talked to his brothers. Making sure to swallow every drop so as to not raise Hunter’s suspicions on your return, you sat back and relaxed your sore neck and shoulders as best as you could considering Tech still had a hold on your arms.

"I think we should really get this lift fixed so we can get back to the Marauder before Hunter starts to put the pieces together." You spoke as you let Tech's now softening dick fall from your mouth. You didn't feel the need to remark about the specificities of how Tech came just now but you were going to tease him with that information another time, after all the ammunition you just provided him sexually about yourself…you're going to need something to retaliate with.

"Do not worry about that, I had finished repairing the controls before you mentioned my nice features." Tech smirked as he recalled your words from earlier. "We will be out of here and back on board the Marauder in no time. Maybe we can continue this later as I imagine you are considerably lubricated for penetration.” Your face flushed at how clinical Tech's correct assumption of just how wet you were sounded, back to typical technical Tech…the man came once and he’s already back to normal.

“...And finish momentarily he did.” You couldn’t help yourself at pointing out the irony of Tech’s words to Hunter, trying to brush over what Tech just said to you.

Tech shook his head and rolled his eyes, opting to ignore your own silly little comment about him orgasming while being addressed by his sergeant, but he would most definitely be revisiting that with you later, as you so eagerly anticipated. Lowering your arms, he helped you stand back up, letting you rest your weight on him to steady yourself. Once you were standing, you retrieved your gloves from the floor and grabbed Tech's spanner that he had lent you as Tech got himself together and redressed, retrieving his codpiece from the floor and positioning it back between his legs. "Oh, and one last thing." Tech didn't give you time to process his words as he lifted his helmet slightly and pulled you into his chest and tilted your chin up gingerly, kissing you. "Was I too rough with you?" Any arrogance or lust from before was long gone and replaced with concern as the clone held your face in front of his.

"No, in fact you could have been a lot rougher, sir." You giggled as you placed the spanner back into a pouch on Tech's toolbelt. The technician rolled his eyes at you playfully as he turned back to the fixed control panel and fiddled with it some more, returning it within the wall causing the red emergency lights to shut off as they were replaced with the normal white ones as the lift returned to its original operational state and started descending.

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech bad batch #tbb tech x you #the bad batch #tbb #tech #tech x reader smut #tbb tech x reader smut

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obsessedelusional · 11 months ago

Text

broken, but together, whole

paring ↬ König x Fem!Reader

summary ↬ You had a terrible accident at your last place of employment. The need for a fresh start brings you to Kortac, where you meet König. His constant gaze leads coworkers to believe he has feelings for you. Telling you all the reasons why you they think he’s a freak, including why he wears a mask constantly. Making you realize you two might have more in common than you thought..

word count ↬ almost 4k jc

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Your recent employment in Kortac was a simple transition. After an incident that lead to several months in the hospital, all healed up you decided it was time for a change. Moving and finding a new job.

Mostly everyone was easy to work with, welcomed you with open arms. No one knowing of your incident, made it easier to pretend that it never happened. They kept you very busy, constantly traveling to accomplish different missions.

The only one to not make a single attempt at being friendly was Konig. You didn’t understand his dismissive attitude toward you. That never really stopped you from saying simple hellos everytime you met his unwavering gaze when he was around.

His gaze unchanging as you smile before continuing what you were doing before he entered the room. When he was around, it felt as if his eyes never left you. Trying to convince yourself that you were being delusional. Only to catch his stare every single time you looked his way.

The group just came back from an exhausting mission, three days spent without a proper meal or bed has led the lot of you straight to the mess hall to eat. Some going straight to their quarters to rest or clean the built up filth from the previous days. As you enter the mess hall, you come to a halt your tired body knocking into someone. You immediately register who and what just happened, looking up to see Konigs eyes piercing down on you from under his mask.

“Sorry..”

“Kein Problem.” He mutters, his accent heavy. Speaking the first words he’s ever spoken to you. Two simple words, completely harmless but why are they making you feel something? You shake it off, grabbing a tray of food and sitting with some of the friends you made since joining.

“What’s his deal? Before you came around here was always holed up in his room. Now he just looms over everyone, staring at you.” One of the girls ask, pointing to Konig who’s per usual has his eyes on you.

“I don’t know.” You sigh, looking away from him.

“He’s a freak. In all the years I’ve worked with him, he’s not once said a single word to me.” Another woman adds, talking as she stuffs her face.

“Maybe he’s just shy.” You suggest thinking about the fact that he spoke to you a few moments ago even if it was brief.

“Maybe he has a crush on you.” She retorts, laughing as if him having a crush on you should upset you.

“And if he does? Would that be so terrible? Have any of you ever even tried to talk to him? Like genuinely?” You ask. Not one of the people sat at your table can say that they gave Konig an honest chance at a conversation. Which has you thinking maybe you should be the first one to try. You sit there listening to them go on about their own beliefs on why he is the way he is.

“Well I heard he never takes that mask off cause he’s all disfigured under it.” Someone announces.

“Yeah something about an explosive going off in his face.” Another chimes in, making you realize the two of you might have more in common than you thought. You look back to where Konig was once sat, he’s no longer there. Feeling bad because he most certainly had to have heard at least some of this conversation.

—

Since yesterday afternoon you kept thinking about Konig, hoping to get him alone so you could try to talk to him. He never showed up for dinner or anything that day. Probably locked away in his room but there was no way in hell you were just going to knock on his door. So you waited, deciding it would happen whenever it was meant to be.

You get to the mess hall early for breakfast with full intentions of grabbing a cup of coffe and a breakfast burrito and be on your way. A busy day ahead of you, a lot you need to accomplish on your day off. Never entirely sure when they come so taking the opportunity to get personal things done.

That’s until you turn around from the coffee table, burrito in hand and see Konig sat alone. He’s busy reading something, looks important. He looks like he doesn’t want to be bothered. Yet your legs lead you to his table, sitting across from him.

“Morning.” You say, so casually as if this a regular occurrence. He only looks up from his papers, confusion appears in his eyes. That quickly fades to his regular stoic gaze before looking back down, ignoring you entirely.

“Whatcha reading?” You ask, unwilling to give up so easily.

“Nothing.” He says, voice filled with annoyance. But it’s another word, so you smile before continuing.

“Well it’s obviously something. Or else you wouldn’t be reading it.” You respond, your silly tone not matching his energy. His eyes leave his reading again to look at you. Still filled with annoyance aimed at you.

“Report. It’s a report for the next mission,” He explains, now sat back in his chair. His attention on you fully.

“Boring.” You reply, causing his to furrow his brows. You wouldn’t know unable to see his features. He’s suprised by your bluntness, they way your talking to him like it’s an everyday thing.

“Can’t that wait? We only get so much time off and you’re wasting it working.” You ask, mostly curious using this an attempt to find out more about him. Maybe he’d let slip some details of his life outside of his job.

“I am always working,” He explains, you’re grateful he’s responding at all even if his answers are short and lack any real insight on him.

“That’s just sad. You don’t do anything else? Never kick back and relax? Have a little fun? That’s no way to live.” You prod into his life and he can’t help but wonder why you even care enough to ask. Wondering why you decided to bother him at all. Slightly annoyed that you claim his way of life is sad but he knows you’re right.

“It’s my life. I’m fine the way it is.” He replies. You go to speak but he’s not done yet.

“I must go.” He adds, already standing up and leaving. Not giving you an opportunity to try and convince him otherwise. You say goodbye as he steps through the door to the hallway, where you can no longer see him. You smile to yourself, satisfied that he talked to you at all and didn’t immediately dismiss you.

Konig on the other hand is completely beside himself, overwhelmed by the small interaction. Praying that was a one time thing as he makes his way back to his quarters. Not realizing that him simply responding opened a whole new chapter for his life: you.

—

Every day from that point, when Konig was near so were you. At first he’d brush you off or respond with one worded answers. Pretending to hate every second but enjoying your company. Finding himself wishing you’d find him sat alone somewhere on the base, so you’d bother him.

Ask him about his day and any other things that came your to your mind. Listening to you rant about your day or your current hyperfixation he didn’t understand. He’d mostly sit in silence but it was okay because you did more than enough talking for the both of you. He could listen to you talk all day long and not get tired.

Early in the friendship he gives you a nickname, calling you Schatz. It takes a lot of begging but eventually he explains that it means treasure. He doesn’t elaborate past that but it makes you feel special. Grinning like an idiot every time it leaves his mouth.

Months had passed of you two becoming friends. Eventually you convincing him to tag along with your other friends on the base. He knew the second you asked, it was game over because he was considering doing something he refused for years simply because you wanted him to.

It started with him sitting with you and your friends. He was sat in silence but he enjoyed every moment. Konig wasn’t socially awkward he just didn’t care to share conversation with ones he didn’t care for. Which made you feel special, he was allowing you access to a part of him that not many experience.

Just as you expected nobody really understands your friendship with Konig. Often questioning you when he’s not around, never hesitating to stand up for him. Making sure everyone knows how important he has become to you. That you won’t stand for any slander of König.

Everything was going great, until it wasn’t. You had this overwhelming feeling that König was avoiding you. He was holed up in his room more than normal and when you did see him in the hall he’d walk the other way. The few times you were able to get him alone, he’d say something about being busy. Leaving you alone as he makes an escape.

You two has made so much progress. Out of no where, he was shutting you out. One day as your walking past his office, the doors open just enough to see him alone. It takes all your courage but you let yourself in. Preparing yourself for the conversation that’s about to be had. He doesn’t even look up from what he’s working, even when you shut the door. Letting it close hard to notify him of your arrival. He’s not stupid, he knows your there. He’s ignoring you.

“König?” You ask, finally breaking the silence. His attention snaps towards you. He looks at you from under his sniper mask, his ice blue irises almost piercing right through you.

"Yes?” he replies quietly in a deep voice. He sounds annoyed.

“Is there a reason why you’re avoiding me?” You ask while König turns his focus back to what he was working on, not looking back up at you as he answers.

"I have my reasons," he says in a terse tone. His voice is cold and unfeeling. You don’t give up yet, pressing him for more information.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You question.

"Ja," He answers bluntly.

“What did I do?”

"That isn't important," König says quickly, looking away from you. He sounds irritated.

"I'm not interested in explaining myself to you," he adds. He goes back to focusing on what he was working on before.

“Where the hell is this coming from? Quit dismissing me like that, like I don’t mean anything to you.” You reply, your tone turning from concern towards annoyance. He looked up and he looks at you for a few moments, as if he’s trying to decide what to say.

"I don't want to be near you," König answers sharply, still not looking up at you.

"I'm tired of you constantly wanting my attention, always expecting me to drop whatever I'm doing to spend time with you.You want more than what I can give." He doesn't hesitate to say what he knows will hurt your feelings. And boy does he hurt them, you’re angry now.

“You are so fucking dramatic. It’s called being friends. Maybe you’re not use to having any friends. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you anymore.” You are almost yelling but the time you finish, leaving his office before he can respond. Once you’re gone he’s sat there alone, staring at the door. Regret immediately washed over him but it doesn’t matter he’s too late.

You start walking away from his office, finding yourself feeling pretty heartbroken. Your throat starts to feel tight. As your walk towards your quarters, tears begin to fall but don’t fully release until you’re alone. Wishing for nothing more than for things to go back to how they were.

Feeling absolutely devastated the fact that he basically said you’re too annoying. Once believing that he enjoyed your company, liked your personality. You don’t what to think anymore. A small part of you thinking he might have had feelings for you. Where did the once sweet, caring man go?

—

It’s been three days since that terrible encounter. You’ve begun to avoid König. Easy enough when he doesn’t want anything to do with you. Unfortunately for the both of you, you still work together. With an upcoming assignment you will have no choice but to see him.

You walk into the armory on a mission preparation day to check for any updates. You sigh in relief when you don’t see him in his regular spot, where he’d often spend his time tinkering with weapons.

"Schatz," König's voice, still sounding cold and distant, resonates through the room. You mentally scream a few cuss words before facing him. A nick name that used to bring you joy causing you distress. He's in his all-black uniform, his sniper mask covering his entire face beside his irises that remain piercing and blue.

“I’ll just come back later.” You say, turning to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" König's voice echoes through the empty room.

“Away from you.”

"Wait." He crosses the room in three swift steps and puts his right hand on your shoulder, stopping you from walking away.

"I need to talk to you."

“No fuck you.” You spit, turning to face him. He’s taken back by your outburst not expecting such words coming from you.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I feel like. You’re a real asshole. Making me give a shit about you, just to push me away. And then to blame it on me being too much for you to handle, you’re a fucking coward.” You let the words out, all the anger you have being let out finally.

"Coward? A coward is someone who is afraid of facing their fears," he says sternly, moving his head closer to you. He's almost nose-to-nose with you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I'm not a coward," he says coldly. He moves his right hand to your chin, forcing your head to look at him.

“Yes you are. I know for a fact that you have feelings for me. And that fucking terrifies you. Instead of facing those feelings, you push me away.” You snap back, still only inches away from him.

"I didn't push you away because of my feelings. I pushed you away because of your feelings," König says quietly, still staring at you and not blinking.

"I'm not what you want. I'm not good enough for you."As he says those words, an intense pain fills his eyes for just a moment before he re-wears his cold, stoic mask.

“You couldn’t have come to this realization before making me fall for you?”

“If I could go back in time and stop myself from meeting you I would," König says quietly.

“I never intended for you to fall for me but it’s too late…” His voice trails off, you can tell he’s thinking carefully about the next words that he will say.

“I want you.. I need you but-..”

“But nothing. The only one making this difficult is you. Quit being an asshole and pushing me away, we could be together.” You cut him off not letting him finish.

"I know," König says quietly, not disagreeing with you at all.

"I don't know what I'm doing. Everything I do feels wrong. I'm scared." He says, nervously fidgeting with fingers.

“Scared of what?” You question, noticing his nervous habit. Taking his hand in yours. His gaze goes up from his hands to your eyes. He takes a shaky breath.

“You're perfect." There's a hint of sadness to his voice when he says the word 'perfect'. It sounds like he knows something you don't.

"And that scares me. I'm scared that once you realize I'm not perfect," he leans in even closer to you, "you'll leave me."

“I’m not perfect, nobody is. I don’t give a fuck about any of that.” You respond, your hands still in his as he nervously rubs his thumbs against your hands.

“Have you ever wondered why I wear this mask? Why I never take it off?”

“Sure but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what’s under there. I like you for you.” You say, trying to reassure him.

“You don’t understand, you never will.” As he speaks, you see something in him break. He leans back and brings his right arm up to the sniper hood covering his face. He stares at you for a long moment before finally taking a deep breath and removing his mask.

You can't hide your shock as you see his face for the first time. The left half of his face covered in scars. The biggest one going down his face, through his eye and down his chin. The right half of his face, the scar of a burn taking up most of this half. Under the mask, none of this noticeable. The black eye makeup is smeared around his eyes. The eyes that look at you with such sadness as he waits for a reaction.

“Please.." König says softly, his voice filled with shame and fear. His scars are now plain to see, exposed and raw. Your heart breaks for him as it suddenly becomes clear that his pushaway behavior was motivated by shame and fear... not anger and disinterest.

“König..” You whisper his name, cupping his jaw. Letting your thumb gently rub against his bottom lip.

When he doesn’t stop that simple touch you let your fingertips gently touch the scarred tissue on his face. Making König close his eyes and take deep, shaky breaths.You can tell that he's not used to anyone touching him, and that physical touch of any kind is almost overwhelming for him. But at the same time, he craves to feel loved and cared for... the way he leans into your touch. With his eyes closed, you kiss him.

After a moment of uncertainty he kisses you too, his scarred lips touching yours. This is his first actual kiss, since the accident and he's unsure of what to do, but the tenderness in his touch still surprises you. You feel his tongue touch the corner of your mouth, exploring your lips as he tries to mimic your movements.

You feel it in your heart to be patient and understanding with König, and seeing him finally let himself open up to you and give in to what you both want melts your heart. König wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and letting his scarred skin touch your bare skin.

You break the kiss to breathe, but there's nothing but silence in the room. Then, you look into König's eyes. They're filled with warmth and tenderness, his scars suddenly not seeming to matter anymore. König's scarred fingers lightly brush your hair as he gathers his thoughts.

"I... I don't know how to say this," he sighs, then finally just blurts it out.

“I love you. I think I have for a while, and I haven't wanted to admit it to myself..." König leans forward, his scarred face now visible, and looks you directly in the eyes.

"I'm broken. I've always been broken, and I've always been scared that I'll never be enough for someone like you..." He explains, sadness heavy in his tone. Even after the kiss you two shared after you seen his face and didn’t run away, he’s still insecure.

“You are enough, more than enough for me. Quit doubting yourself, so I can show you the love you deserve.” You explain, taking his face in your hands forcing him to look at you while you speak. König is shocked by your words.

"But... how could anyone love me, looking the way I do? Knowing all the things I've done? I've been a soldier my whole life. I've hurt people, killed people. And I'll never not be that person." He closes his scarred eyes, trying to hold back emotion.

“I'm... I'm a monster."

“You are not a monster. Just because you’ve done bad things doesn’t make you a bad person. Ever since I met you, you have been nothing but kind to me. You make me happy, you make me feel safe. At least when you’re not avoiding me because you think you know what’s best for me.” You explain, letting your hands continue to explore his face. You cup his chin, kissing his lips before moving my lips up his scars. Pressing sweet simple kisses along his scared face. Letting him know they don’t scare you.

König breathes in sharply as your lips hit his scarred skin. Your kisses feel incredibly tender and loving. He closes his eyes as you continue to explore his scarred face with your lips. As you continue to kiss his scars, he lets out a deep breath and lets his head rest against you. You take his hand, pressing delicate kissing to his scared fingers.

Your gentle touch makes him feel loved and wanted, not a monster or a killer or a scarred beast, but a normal person who can still be cared for and loved by someone else. He finally opens his eyes and looks at you.

“You don't... you don't care what I look like, do you?"

“No I don’t. And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you if that’s what it takes.” You reassure him.

"But my scars... how can you not care about them? How can you love someone with all these scars?" König takes a deep breath and slowly caresses your cheek with his scarred hand.

"You have scars too, don't you?" He asks and now it’s your turn to come clean.

“I haven’t showed anyone since it happened…,” You whisper pulling up your shirt exposing the burn scars that run up the side of your body. Yours are a lot more recent than his. It’s obvious there’s a lot more under all the clothes you’re wearing. You see König's jaw drop slightly as you expose your scars. You see a look of raw emotion in his eyes, like he just saw you naked for the first time. A gentle smile spreads across his face as he stares at you, and his eyes begin to glisten.

"You... you understand?" he whispers.

“Yes.. I understand.”

König leans in again and touches your burnt skin lightly with his scarred fingertips. He traces your scars with his thumb, looking up at you to make sure you see the love in his eyes. He caresses your scars as if they're an intimate part of your body, like he's finally touching a part of you that no one has ever touched before.

"You understand my scars... you accept them... and you still love me." His voice breaks as he whispers these last words, and you can see tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

"I love you..." He leans in and kisses you passionately, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer.

Your scars, his scars, they're both part of your past, but they don't define you. You both have wounds that are still healing and scars that will never go away. You'll both carry them for the rest of your life, but you carry them together. You're both broken, but together, you're whole.

#konig x female reader #konig x y/n #konig modern warfare #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 2 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Getou

[Chapter 7] Dinner Party

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Infidelity, Oral Sex, Slight Fingering

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“Suguru?” You’re fairly surprised when you notice that your husband is home at a decent time for the second time in the month. Maybe he isn’t so busy anymore. Maybe he’ll actually come around.

“Hey, honey.” He smiles as he walks over to you. He kisses your forehead before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. He clears his throat, watching what you do. You weren’t doing any of your new fancy hobbies, you’re just on your phone. “You’re not doing any of your fancy hobbies?”

“I just got home from getting my nails done.” You share. You’re about to ask why he’s home so early, but you decide against it. You’ll choose to believe that he finally decided that it’s time to make time for his wife. “How was work?”

“Extremely tiring.” He shuts his eyes as he slouches on the couch, throwing his head back. His hand goes to your thigh, and he opens his palm so you’ll place your hand with his. You do so, intertwining your fingers with his. “I miss you so much, pumpkin.”

“I miss you too, honey.” You respond. For a moment you sit in silence, appreciating each other’s presence. Before he completely ruins it, revealing that he isn’t here to spend time with you.

“I invited Satoru and his girlfriend over for dinner tonight.” He says, causing your eyebrows to furrow. You let go of his hand and stand up from the couch. “Where are you going, honey?”

“You’re only here when you need something from me.” You point out, and the man takes a deep breath. He’s far too tired for this. What he needs is a long warm bath, a nice movie, and some quality food. Not a nagging wife. He doesn’t respond, wanting to avoid arguing, but you continue. “Would it kill you to make some time for us? Why do you want to make time for Gojo and his little girlfriend, but not for your wife?”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.” He puts his palms over his face which muffles his words. But you hear him loud and clear, and it almost sends you over the edge. But you decide to take a deep breath, giving yourself a moment to calm yourself down.

“I think you should check your priorities, Suguru, because I’m not staying around forever with this kind of treatment.” You threaten, although you know that you’ll stick around. You have adjusted to this lifestyle of luxury, and you’re not going to lose it because your husband is prioritizing his job. He’s possibly having an affair too, but you choose not to think about it.

“Look, I have to fucking work and make sure everything is afloat so I don’t lose my fucking position. You know why? Because you’re so fucking expensive. You spend so much fucking money, and I have to fund it. You don’t fucking stop, and yet here you are, bitching about me when I’m doing this for you.” He begins and your nails begin to dig into the skin of your hands. You’re about to speak, completely mortified at what he’s saying, but he continues talking, “All you fucking do is complain and bitch about something. I can’t find a moment of fucking peace with you. I’m so fucking tired, don’t you understand? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you.”

“Well you better start believing that the world revolves around me because I’ll find someone who does, and leave you all behind.” You say as you begin to walk away. Suguru loudly sighs, which causes you to stop, slightly turning to look at him, “Also, you can suck your own dick tonight. Even better! Ask Gojo and his stupid girlfriend.”

Thirty minutes before Satoru and his girlfriend are set to arrive, you’re in the kitchen making sure everything is perfect. Obviously you’re not setting things up on your own, but you have to make sure nothing is fucked up. Satoru already makes fun of you for your decaying marriage, you wouldn’t want him to make fun of you because you can’t host a proper dinner.

You wear your new shiny red dress, diamonds that your husband got you for your birthday, and black red bottoms. You made sure to look your best. Not only to force Suguru to come to his senses, but to make a person or two upset.

“Honey, will you fix my tie?” You hear as you put two wine glasses down. You roll your eyes at Suguru, who walks up to you. He sticks out his bottom lip before he says, “Oh, honey, I can’t stand when you’re being mad at me. I’m sorry.”

“Why would you care?” You ask as you fix his tie. “Why are you dressing up so fancy?”

“The same reason you’re dressed so beautifully.” He responds, making you click your tongue. You let go of him and focus back on setting everything up. His arms wrap around you, hugging you from behind before he kisses your cheek, “Baby, you look so beautiful. God, I love you so much. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You don’t say anything in response. And you don’t say anything while he kisses your cheek over and over again. “I’m so sorry, baby. Spend all my money, I don’t mind. The world revolves around you.”

You know he’s doing it because he wants you to act your best during dinner. You didn’t exchange a word while you were getting ready. He only wants you to act like the perfect wife in front of his friend so you don’t embarrass him. Yet you laugh and accept his apology, telling him, “Alright, alright. You’re forgiven. Let me finish up here.”

“Let me help you.” He responds, a grin on his face. He’s glad he’s forgiven and that he didn’t have to buy you a new car this time. At least a car gets you moving, he’ll never forgive himself for spending the cost of a new home on a purse; one that you don’t use.

“Make sure they go home early.” You tell your husband, who chuckles in response. He then hums in agreement. He doesn’t want to spend too much time with them, and additionally he doesn’t want to upset you. Maybe you’re right, and he has to spend more time with you.

The doorbell rings an hour later. Satoru, of course, is thirty minutes late, which makes you annoyed. But you didn’t expect anything else from him. Suguru’s hand rests on your waist as you two welcome Utahime and Satoru into your home. You maintain a fake smile on your face as you greet them, same as your husband.

“Was there a lot of traffic?” Suguru asks when he closes the door. You take the bottle of wine from Utahime and begin to walk to the kitchen with it. Usually you’d hand it off to someone, but the less time you spend with them the better. After everything with Suguru, the last thing you want to do is socialize. Especially with Satoru and his girlfriend of all people. However, you want to show off your pretty dress and your jewelry.

“Throw this bottle away.” You order as you put the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You know Satoru makes an absurd amount of money, but apparently he can’t pay for a decent wine. “Have four glasses ready in less than five minutes. We’ll be in the living room.”

You walk out of the kitchen and to the living room, where Satoru sits next to his girlfriend on your white couch, while your husband sits on the armchair. You don’t want to awkwardly sit alone on the loveseat, and certainly don’t wait to join Satoru and his girlfriend on the couch. So you go to your husband’s side and take a seat on his lap. Suguru happily welcomes you.

“You know there’s other seats available, right?” Satoru jokes, and you roll your eyes. You’re really not in the mood to deal with him. Suguru’s arms wrap around you and he brings you closer to him.

“Do I need–” You begin but you cut yourself off. You have to act like the perfect wife that you are. At least in front of your husband. “I just want to be close to my husband.”

“Aren’t you two the perfect couple.” He comments, putting up an obnoxious smile. You look away from him and at his girlfriend. She wears a white dress that’s certainly a style choice. Definitely something that you wouldn’t be caught wearing. “I really wish to end up like you two.”

“So, Utahime, how long have you been together? Satoru never told us about you.” Suguru changes the topic since he knows that you’ll just end up bickering with Satoru, and he doesn’t want to hear that. Utahime gets red in the face, truly embarrassed to hear that from Suguru. She clears her throat as she scooches away from her boyfriend, clearly upset as this information comes to light in her world. You watch her reaction, chewing on the inside of your cheek to fight back the smirk that threatens to come onto your lips.

“We’ve been together for nearly a year.” She confesses, and you turn your face to look at your husband, hiding the smile that comes onto your lips, and only letting your husband see it. Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. He had something in his mind, but it slipped when he noticed your reaction. You manage to fight off your smile, and you purse your lips together.

“Oh you poor thing. Why would Satoru hide you for so long? You’re so pretty.” You begin, and you feel Satoru’s eyes burn into your skin. You ignore him, smiling at his girlfriend, your hands going on top of your husband’s that rest on your waist. “When Suguru and I started dating he began to show me off the first week. In less than a month I had met his parents.”

“Really? Satoru refuses to introduce me to his parents.” Utahime shares, glaring at her boyfriend. Satoru’s eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you. You’re clearly satisfied with what you’ve done in so little time, but your face won’t show it.

You feel your husband’s lips kiss your jaw before his lips go up to your ear, “Drop it.”

The maid finally comes out with four glasses of red wine. You each grab one and you quietly sip on your glasses. Both you and Satoru stare at each other. He’s clearly displeased with you, while you’re satisfied.

“Dinner should be ready soon.” Suguru comments, hating the awkward silence that fills up the place. Of course it won’t be immediately solved when there’s food in front of you, but it’ll make things go faster.

“Is this the wine I brought?” Satoru questions, and you shake your head. You know better than to straight up insult his selection.

“We want to save that for another occasion.” You answer, and Satoru knows exactly what you mean. It’s in the trash. You don’t save stuff for later. You’re a simple woman in some senses, you like something, you immediately open it. But when you don’t, you save it for later. But Satoru won’t push the subject tonight, even though he would’ve asked to see the bottle any other time. He’s with his girlfriend tonight, and you clearly have the upper hand.

“I picked it out, I was really hoping to taste it.” Utahime reveals. You really can’t say that you’re surprised. By the way that dress she picked out looks, you can tell that the woman has poor taste. Satoru is about to make a snide remark about how he’ll pick it out of the trash, but he once again remembers that he has to stay in his best behavior before you bring up how amazing the beginning of your relationship with Suguru was. How at the end of your first year together, Suguru had proposed but you rejected the proposal because it was simply too soon. He doesn’t want Utahime to get similar ideas.

“Hmm… I’m sure Satoru can buy you another bottle. I’ve seen how much he earns yearly, he can definitely afford something so cheap.” You comment as you stand up from Suguru’s lap. You begin to walk to the kitchen, saying, “I’ll go check up on dinner.”

Ten minutes later, you’re seated at the dining table. Suguru sits at the end of the table, to your right, while Satoru ends on the other end to your left. You’re forced to look at Utahime, who is tense. She barely touches her food, her gaze falling on her beloved.

“Did you buy a new table? This is definitely smaller than I remember.” Satoru asks, and you nod in response because Suguru clearly hasn’t even noticed about the new furniture in your home. Suguru is quick to change the topic, turning his attention to Utahime.

“So, Utahime, what do you do?” Suguru questions, which finally tears Utahime’s eyes from Satoru and she looks at your husband. Suguru smiles at her, trying to look inviting. Satoru is his best friend, and of course he wants his best friend’s girlfriend to feel welcomed.

“I’m… Trying to do music.” She answers, and you burst into laughter but you disguise it as a cough, grabbing your cloth napkin and putting it over your mouth. Satoru wants to act annoyed at this, but he wants to laugh as well.

“Really? Singer? What genre of music?” Suguru asks. Now you’re certainly curious what her answer is going to be.

“Well… You can say I’m more aligned with the pop genre.” She responds and it takes everything in you not to laugh again. She looks like a very serious woman, there’s no way she isn’t bluffing about this. You take a sip of your wine before you clear your throat.

“Utahime, how old are you?” You speak up, and she definitely doesn’t look too pleased with the question, or at least that’s what you can gather from the brows that furrow. You immediately try to play it off, “Just wondering how far apart in age we are. You can’t be much younger than us.”

“I’m 32.” She answers, and your eyebrows raise. She isn’t younger than you, in fact she’s three years older than everyone at the table. And out of the four of you she’s the one that’s delusional enough to try and become the next pop sensation.

“Really? You wouldn’t be able to tell.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t come off as genuine. “Satoru’s dating preference is women that are younger than him, so I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why did you buy a new table?” Satoru asks, wanting to change the subject. He’s a bit curious as well because the last table was lovely. Suguru wants to ask as well because he hadn’t noticed the change in furniture. He knows he spent too much fucking money on the last one, and he can’t help but wonder why you decided to rearrange the furniture.

“Well, Suguru is barely home and the other table was simply too big for a singular person. This fits better for a single person.” You share, and Suguru sighs, regretting the question that left Satoru’s lips. Satoru clicks his tongue before he shakes his head in disapproval. But at least that’ll show Utahime that your marriage isn’t as perfect as others make it out to be.

Satoru has introduced her to a couple other friends, and Suguru and his marriage have come up a couple of times. There’s always a mountain of praise when it comes up. It looks nearly perfect. He thought that maybe suggesting dinner to Suguru would show Utahime that Suguru’s marriage is far from perfect, but the cards haven’t been playing in his favor until now.

“You put work above your wife?” Satoru questions, knowing that Suguru does. For no other reason would you two send flirty texts to each other. Although Satoru isn’t the best boyfriend he could be, he at least tries to make time for Utahime.

“Well, I have to make sure I can pay for her every want and need. And pay for everything in the house as well. She couldn’t have bought this new table if it weren’t for me and my money.” Suguru points out. You feel your blood boiling at his words, but you can’t do anything but sip on your glass. The grip is too tight, almost enough to make the glass break in your hands. “I’m sorry I don’t have as much time for you as you’d like, but as I told you earlier, I need to make sure you have enough money to spend.”

“I do think you're a bit ungrateful for not appreciating what he does.” Utahime speaks up, and you have to put the glass of wine down because you swear it’ll just shatter into pieces. You’re so focused on taking deep breaths that you barely notice the hand that lands on your left thigh. It hits you when you feel his hand caress your skin, and it calms you down. Because you know out of all of them you have the upper hand, otherwise Satoru wouldn’t be caressing your thigh. Bursting into a fit of anger will just make you seem weak. “I get that you’re angry, but he’s trying his best. From what I can gather you like pricey stuff and he has to pay for it. How else would he be able to afford it if he didn’t spend all day working?”

“You’re new here, honey, so I’ll be nice.” You begin, fakely smiling at the woman. “You’re under my roof, so you follow my rules. You only speak when you’re spoken to. And did any of us talk to you about my husband’s work? No. So you better shut that pretty mouth of yours before I give you a reason to never speak again.”

“Be nice.” Suguru tells you in a rather threatening tone, and you glare at him as well. That is before Utahime speaks again.

“See I could gather that you were a bitch when we met, but most women try to disguise it just a bit.” Satoru’s eyes widen and you dig your nails into your palms. You’re so close to grabbing the glass of wine and throwing it to her face to give her another nice scar that’ll suit her face. Utahime then clears her throat, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I do get that what my wife said was out of line but please refrain from ever calling her such derogatory names.” Suguru speaks up, and worry fills up Satoru. Suguru will do anything for you, that’s something that Satoru has noticed, and if you asked Suguru to fire him, Suguru would do it in a heartbeat. “And, honey, I think it’d be best to apologize.”

“I’m sorry.” You end up saying. You end up slapping away Satoru’s hand before you stand up from the table, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll go check on the dessert.”

“I’m going to go see if she needs any help.” Satoru says not too shortly after, standing up from his chair and following after you. They’d both question why Satoru is going to help, but both end up assuming Satoru is going to further apologize on Utahime’s behalf.

“You’re all dismissed.” You tell the staff that’s in the kitchen as you angrily walk into the room, and within seconds they’re out of the kitchen. You check the plated desserts that are on a tray on the kitchen island, when you hear,

“She isn’t like this. I’m sorry.” Satoru begins which causes you to chuckle.

“A struggling artist. How embarrassing for you. You’ve really downgraded from intelligent beautiful models.” You comment as he walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. You don’t fight it, but you end up asking, “What are you doing?”

“You know she’s right, you are kind of a bitch.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“I never claimed I wasn’t but your mediocre girlfriend isn’t coming into my house and telling me that I am one when she stepped into a conversation she wasn’t a part of in the first place.” You respond, feeling as his fingertips touch the skin that’s at the bottom of your dress. That reminds you that he hasn’t answered your question, “Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing? My husband and your girlfriend aren’t too far away.”

“That’s something I miss about you. You’ve always been a bitch but you make it look cute. Utahime just gets on my fucking nerves.” He shares, and now you don’t care to stop him. He begins to fuel your ego, and of course you’re not going to do anything about it, especially when your heart craves payback. Although fucking Utahime’s boyfriend for revenge is a bit extreme, you’ve never claimed to be the most rational person.

“You’re trying to play it off like you miss me?” You ask, and you hear his subtle huh? “Satoru, we both know you want to fuck me simply because I’m Suguru’s wife.”

Satoru lets go of you, and you turn around to face him. You have a smirk on your face as you take a seat on the island. “Just because I decided to be a housewife, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking dumb. We both know I’m extremely smart, Satoru. You don’t want me because you miss me, you really couldn’t care less about our past relationship. You just want something that Suguru has.”

“What–” He begins, and you cut him off.

“I don’t care. Use me the same way I want to use you.” You grab his hand and pull him toward you. Your finger grabs some icing from one of the plates, and you spread it all over Satoru’s lips. He’s about to wipe it off, confused about this whole interaction until your tongue licks his lips. You clean off the icing, and just when he’s about to connect your lips, you push him away. “Don’t ruin my lipstick. It isn’t transfer proof. You wouldn’t want to let them know.”

You feel Satoru’s soft hands land on your thighs, and he begins to spread your legs. Goosebumps spread through your body while you watch him lower himself. However, you don’t leave him there for long. You don’t let him push your panties to the side before you grab a fistful of his hair and push his head back, “We have to go back before they come to check on us. Don’t let them get suspicious.”

“What’s another five minutes?” He asks, and you shake your head disapprovingly.

“Sneaking around is fun because there’s a possibility that we might get caught. It isn’t so fun when you make it extremely likely to get caught.” You lecture him, letting go of his head. Yet he still pushes your panties to the side. He presses a kiss on your clit, which makes you say, “But you’re just begging to get caught. You don’t care, do you?”

You have so much to lose but you don’t stop him as his tongue begins to run through your folds. You’re touch deprived and unbelievably mad at your husband. He’ll only make time for work or for Satoru– But after this you won’t mind him making time for Satoru. “Oh, you probably want him to walk in right now, don’t you? See me getting eaten out by you.”

His mouth begins to suck on your clit while two fingers run through your folds and gather your slick. He gets his fingers wet enough before he pushes them inside of you. When you feel his thick fingers inside of you, it’s when it hits you how real this is. You’re cheating on your husband. The man you vowed to love forever. This surge of guilt overtakes your body, and you feel your stomach churn. You grab a fistful of Satoru’s hair and push him away.

He chuckles as he sees your face, taking his slick-covered fingers out and moving them to your clit. His fingers move in a circular motion while he cockily raises a brow, “Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty… We haven’t even actually done anything yet.”

“We have to go before they come here and they find us like this.” You tell him. His tongue goes back to your cunt and he swirls it around your clit. “Satoru…”

“Just when I finally got to taste you again.” He says, detaching himself and standing up right, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You fix yourself up, your body extremely warm and your mind hazy as thousands of thoughts run through it. He begins to walk away but you say his name, “What?”

“Grab the tray and bring it out.”

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @violetsaffron5 @uhremmi @13vicey @rumi-rants @somemydayy @lilith412426 @33yaeyaeeee @iam-mia9 @m00dycr4nkybitc @cloudsinthecosmos @armincasa-blog @staromi @hopelhss @desireness @abba-simp @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @corndogwithwings @Konekobby @tojianddabisslut @yeagerfushiguro @mochikage @chanelmalandro @katykat71114 @ur-mums-side @manidobre @itadore-you @yehet-moi-ohorat @lovemarvel16 @hellva @greenlovers @bluupen @ma-icloggedthe-toilet @vertigoswan @lilithlunas @tamak00 @hopelhss @yeosxxx @andriathorne @justanothernpcartist @soph-toru @nanaosaki3940 @ackerstain

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billyharringson · 2 months ago

Text

Treacle

A short one-shot that i've been wanting to write for a while.

Pairing: Harringrove

Rating: Mature

Additional Tags: Safewords, Safe Sane and Consensual, Light BDSM, Dom/sub, Sub Billy Hargrove, Dom Steve Harrington, Spanking, Belts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: Steve had never used his safe word before, in fact Billy had almost forgotten it, so this was bad. The way Steve was trembling and sobbing in his arms was doing little to dissuade him of that fact.

You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59247157

It only took one strike with the belt for Steve to realise that this wasn’t going to work. All previous excitement and arousal left his body, to be replaced with ice. Billy’s erotic gasp as he arched into the hit didn’t help, and he barely heard his boyfriend’s moaned expletive as a haze of panic fell over him.

He hadn’t anticipated this. They’d done things much more extreme in the past and he’d loved it. He still replayed the image of Billy, bound and gagged, covered in tiny cuts from the knife that Steve had lovingly trailed over his skin, multiple times a month. He spanked Billy on a regular basis, to the point where Billy sometimes quipped that Steve wasn’t happy unless he couldn’t sit down properly.

But they’d never used belts before. He’d only ever struck Billy with the flat of his hand.

“Steve?”

Billy’s voice brought him back to reality and Steve stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over, his chest heaving and tears flowing down his cheeks.

When had he started crying?

“Steve, hey, hey. Look at me.” Billy was standing now, making his way towards him even as Steve continued to back away.

“I... I can’t... s-shit.” He dropped the belt, grabbing at his hair. “Sorry I... I... fuck. I can’t...” He squeezed his eyes closed, squeaking out another sob. “T-treacle.”

Billy’s eyes widened as Steve stuttered his safe word, he hadn’t expected that. He’d known that his boyfriend wasn’t reacting well to something, he still wasn’t sure what, but it probably had something to do with the belt.

“Okay, okay, baby. You’re okay.” Billy surged forward, gathering Steve in his arms and holding him close. “I’m here, pretty boy, you’re okay. Just breath for me now, there we go.”

Steve had never used his safe word before, in fact Billy had almost forgotten it, so this was bad. The way Steve was trembling and sobbing in his arms was doing little to dissuade him of that fact.

“You ne... you never call me b-baby.” Steve whispered, nuzzling into Billy’s shoulder. He was still crying, Billy’s shoulder growing wet with his tears.

“Well, this is a special case.” Billy replied with a smile, stroking down Steve’s hair. “What do you need, Stevie? What do you need from me?”

Steve’s aftercare usually consisted of taking care of Billy, of doting on him, but Billy figured that wouldn’t work right now. Just as he figured that Steve probably wouldn’t appreciate a bubble bath and a mug of hot chocolate the way Billy did when he dropped.

“You want me to undress you, sir?” Billy asked, knowing it was a risk to use Steve’s title but wanting to see where his head was.

Steve squeezed him once more before nodding and letting him go. “I’m sorry.” He whispered as Billy slowly and gently peeled off his clothes.

“Nope.” Billy said with a shit eating grin, popping the ‘p’ as he looked up at his boyfriend from where he was knelt between his legs. “Isn’t that what you always say to me? You don’t get to say sorry for using your safe word. You did what you needed to do.” He took hold of Steve’s hand and pulled him back over to the bed, swiping the rest of the restraints onto the floor and folding down the covers. “In you get, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Steve grabbed hold of Billy’s hand. “Where are you going?” He asked, following Billy’s gentle guidance and climbing under the covers.

“To get some snacks.” Billy said, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. “And a movie. I’ll be gone for a minute tops, I promise.”

Steve swallowed the apology that he could feel building again and instead snuggled further down in their bed. He was feeling slightly less wobbly already, the fact that Billy had instantly taken charge was doing wonders for his nerves.

Was helping him to think that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t hurt him too much.

He knew that Billy liked pain, just as he knew that a lot of the things Billy asked him to do were to help him bury his memories of past pain. And Steve had been able to do that because he knew he was helping.

Because it wasn’t a pain he could relate to.

“How are you doing, sir?” Billy asked, shouldering open the bedroom door, his arms filled with a bowl of freshly microwaved popcorn and a VHS tape.

“I’ll be better when you’re in here with me, baby.” Steve replied, giving him a watery smile.

Billy put the tape into the player underneath their tiny bedroom TV before crawling into bed next to him. “I’m here, Stevie. How are you feeling now?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Billy, manoeuvring them until his boyfriend was cradled against his chest. “Better.” He muttered, kissing Billy’s cheek. “I’m...”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Billy interrupted, pushing a piece of popcorn past Steve’s lips as though to silence him.

“Okay.” Steve said with a chuckle, accepting a few more pieces of popcorn.

“You okay to talk about it? Or do we need to leave it till tomorrow?”

Steve had anticipated this question. It was an unspoken rule between them that should they discover a hard limit that they talk about it. He hummed, settling more firmly against the pillows. “When I was about 5, my grandfather came to live with us. He was only there for a few months but... well, he had different ideas about discipline than my parents.”

“Oh, pretty boy.” Billy cooed, turning around and cupping Steve’s face. “You should have said something.”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t remember until now. I guess I didn’t think it had affected me but... the second I hit you, I... I remembered how I always felt whenever he took his belt off and...” Steve could feel the tears coming again and hid his face in Billy’s hair. “...the thought of doing that to you just...”

“It’s okay.” Billy said, his words barely audible where his lips were pressed to Steve’s collarbone. “You didn’t hurt me, Stevie. I promise.”

Steve nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes until he lay back again, brushing the back of his hand down Billy’s cheek. “Maybe we’ll just stick with hands for a bit, hmm?”

“We don’t ever have to try the belt again, Steve. I’m more than happy for you to just use your hands, or maybe we can try a cane or whip or something.”

Steve paused, more memories returning. “Not a cane. I can’t use a cane.”

“Okay.” Billy said simply, not pushing more than that as he picked up the remote. “Now, let’s eat popcorn and watch movies until we fall asleep.”

“I love you.” Steve whispered as the opening sounds of ‘The Little Mermaid’ filled the small space of their bedroom.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #harringrove

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exaflux · 2 months ago

Text

How good is BTAA Scarecrow at therapy really? (An Analysis) (Part 2)

[Part 1]

Alt title: What the hell is JoyCure anyway?

Now onto the long overdue second part of this analysis series looking at the most ethical psychologist the world has ever laid eyes on. We simply must rate his performance!

I apologeese for the delay on this. Been in my drafts for over a month blegh.

This is a very long analysis compared to the first part, word of warning.

This part contains- more breaking down of psychology approaches some in less detail if covered in the first bit, Harvey almost falling off a skyscraper, and in the conclusion some talks on JoyCure and a talk on how Jon views "trust" (if you're into character analysis)

Disclaimer- I am not a trained psychologist or therapist or anything of the like, I just like psychology as a topic. This writing is purely for fun.

Harvey and Two-face will be referred to seperately in this analysis, but if referring to both Harvey will be used as default. Jonathan is still Jonathan.

Delightfully surprised by all the people who enjoyed the first part by the way! The likes and reblogs are much appreciated~

Session two-

The following all takes place in S2, Episode 7 unless otherwise stated

This session starts out with Harvey and Two-Face talking amongst themselves, focusing on a strange noise they can mutually hear in the background. In his confusion, Harvey asks Jonathan if he's still there, to which he responds: "Yes. I'm right here, Harvey. You can leave your blindfold on until I tell you to remove it, please" (10:37). Immediately responding to the questions of a worried client would help with setting their nerves at ease while minimising the amount of time they'd experience distress, with the added bonus of some trust building. Also Jonathan is so polite here! What a nice man.

That sound that Harvey's hearing, by the way, is explained by Jon as such: "That's Harmony, Two-Face. You've never known a moment of it in your entire tortured existence" (10:55). Reminder that wording matters as it can influence client outlook, especially in a therapy setting. Describing a client's experiences as a "tortured existence" is quite negative and is not an example of a good therapy practice.

A bit further on Jonathan starts advertising his goods explaining why Harvey is hearing weird stuff, claiming "the JoyCure has brought peace at last to your long inner conflict. You simply must trust me. Remember, we talked about trust when you agreed to put that blindfold on for me?" (11:24). This sets the scene as a trust exercise. Not too bad. "You said to cooperate. We cooperated" "Yes, Harvey, cooperation, that's exactly what today's lesson is all about [...] I want you to cooperate with you" (11:36) Never mind. Please do not gaslight your clients then claim you were talking about something completely different when they catch wind of it. 🚩❌ The memory is actually quite suggestible. You can influence a person's memories by both wording used in a question and how you word it. As a psychologist Jon should know this.

Directly following on from Jon's previous statement, Two-Face says he doesn't get what Jon means, so he goes on to clarify "We have oh so many ways we wage war within ourselves every day. You're just an unusually extreme case" (12:01). This is a very interesting thing for Jon to say given his tendency to negatively describe his clients' situation, and at a blush I almost said this was within acceptable therapy practices. Almost. See, here he establishes that everyone suffers from inner conflict, and Harvey's situation is just a step above that. It's notable enough to comment on, being "unusually extreme" but it's still very much kept within the realm of normal behaviour. Imo the language use here ("extreme") doesn't necessarily have a negative connotation but is an observation, but your mileage may vary. This sounds good, right? But then you have to ask- why is Two-Face needing to ask about this to begin with? This session has been set up as a trust exercise already, and these have to be discussed and agreed to beforehand. It's ethically necessary. This tells me that Jonathan has completely neglected to explain the how and whys with Harvey before all this stuff was set up for the session. He broke ethics.

"I am going to take off your blindfold now, and then I'd like you to tell me how irrational you believe your fear of high places to be" (12:42). Always good practice to give clear and easy to follow instructions to clients if you're doing an exercise with them. After Harvey removes the blindfold, finding himself standing outside of a skyscraper window, Jon wants to know his thoughts- "Tell me how do you feel?" (13:18). Again therapy stuff. Therapists ask questions on how their clients feel about certain experiences, and in identifying a feeling clients can then work towards learning why they feel that way.

We find out that Harvey finds himself unbothered by how high up he is, and later that this is due to the drug he took, JoyCure. Immediately after being asked whether he'd like to look at the view alongside Harvey, Jon responds "Thank you, I'll stay here inside where it's safe" (13:40). As if it isn't obvious enough already, standing outside a skyscraper window isn't exactly safe. Therapists, don't ask your clients to do this either. Jon throughout most of this segment doesn't sound too bothered by his own breaching of ethics, in fact he sounds like a kid who just got told they'll be getting $50 worth of Robux after class for peak gaming. Maybe it's because he's still a therapist and considers all this as progress in his client? Who knows. Either way, Jon slowly gets Harvey to do increasingly more and more dangerous things on the ledge outside the window: "In fact, you might even dance a jig on that narrow ledge if I asked you to" (14:30), "[...] you would walk to the end of that flagpole if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07). Again, this is dangerous. At the very least he's just suggesting this. It's not like he's telling Harvey (who's still relying on others to make decisions for him at this point) to walk that flagpole, right? "Yes, I want you to show me you can walk it like a tightrope [...] Walk to the very end" (15:22). Ah.❌ At the very least he's celebratory of his client's achievements, exclaiming "Congratulations Harvey!" (15:56) when that flagpole does get walked like a tightrope. Nice.

"Now this next part is very dangerous. When you're ready, turn around and come back" (16:06)- Once again, wording matters in therapy settings. Stating that the next part of the exercise is dangerous would definitely not help with putting client's worries at ease.

Neither Harvey Two-Face nor Two-Face Two-face can make heads or tails cough cough of what they've been told to do. "What do you mean when we're ready?" "Simply discuss it amongst yourselves. When you mutually decide you want to come in, turn either to your left or alternately turn to your right and come back" (16:15). Jon again making his instructions clear to his client. Two-Face becomes uneased at this response however and wants Jon to tell him what to do, with Jon declining to (16:39). This is still within the realm of normal therapy practices as Jon can't do this exercise for Harvey.

Also, at this point it'd be good to mention that despite me characterising this whole thing as a "trust exercise" up 'til now, that isn't strictly the only thing it is. This whole scene is actually an example of exposure therapy. This form of therapy is performed normally on people to help treat phobias and various anxiety conditions, OCD and PTSD. As the name suggests, this is done through presenting the client with whatever thing is a trigger to them in feeling anxiety and over time through exposure they'll (in theory) feel less anxiety over the trigger. One caveat though- you're still supposed to talk about this with a client beforehand, understand how comfortable they feel with doing the exercise and be completely willing to stop the exercise if the client no longer wants to do it. It's apparent already that Jon hasn't done this. There's multiple types of exposure therapy, this one is called gradual exposure, or systematic desensitisation. With this version of the therapy a client is supposed to make a tier list of what things give them least to most anxiety called an (exposure hierarchy), then they work their way up at their own pace. Jon here seems to be calling the shots though much more than his clients on how much they "face their fears" as it were, especially given Harvey can't make any decisions for himself.

In fact, to make things even worse again, Jon increasingly makes the exercise more anxiety-inducing than it needs to be. He presents Harvey with more and more decisions ("Come on, Harvey. Turn right or turn left. Then once you've turned, do you lead with your left foot or your right?" (16:53)) then plays dumb about knowing that Harvey can't currently make decisions on his own, "Ah, but you're without your coin. I'd forgotten." (17:11). Of course he's BSing about forgetting, especially when you notice how he suggested walking the flagpole earlier ("you would [...] if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07)) which makes one wonder if he was wanting to see to what extent that Harvey would actually do what he was told. Hmm... Either way though, he's being a twat and deliberately causing distress. ❌❌❌

This part is the juiciest bit of the session- Harvey tells Jon that he's afraid, and Jon talks about the drugs, JoyCure, he put Harvey on. Unfortunately, the details on JoyCure will be left for the conclusion as it is too juicy. But, about Harvey being afraid, Jon has this to say- "Your real fear isn't high places. The fear your feeling right now? That's the fear that defines you, Harvey. The fear of having to make a decision [...] No coin. No counsel. Just the two of you." (17:34). To recap everything that has went on so far, Jon tried to make out all this was a trust exercise (and according to Two-Face, he was just told to co-operate) and then it turned out that all this was actually an attempt at gradual exposure. But now we find it actually isn't, because the fear that that therapy would have treated isn't actually a fear anymore due to JoyCure. Instead, Harvey has been dunked directly into his real fear, making a decision, which is closer to a different type of exposure therapy: flooding. Flooding (unlike gradual exposure) is basically the theraputic equivalent to throwing you in the deep end of whatever you're made anxious by. It's a valid therapy technique, but is only used in particular circumstances and again with the consent of the client first. Do we think that Jon got permission from Harvey to do this type of therapy? Probably not.

If it's all too much info to understand, here's a simplified diagram:

At this point the session devolves more and more into being a train-wreck. There's hardly any actual therapy going on.

As a rundown:

Harvey wants off the flagpole. Jon's immediate response is to faux panic about Harvey slipping before mocking him with a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling?" (18:02). ❌

Two-Face threatens Jon with a "I'll kill you!" and Jon barks back "You said "I"! That's a breakthrough! One of you is taking charge!(18:10). A breakthrough is another word for a milestone in therapy. But really him calling it a "breakthrough" I don't think should be taken at face value for... Obvious reasons here. ❌❌

And finally, right before the session ends, our world renowned psychologist says "Come on now. You simply need to agree upon a strategy before it's too late" (18:24). Which I mean, he's making light of the situation and how easy it sounds (in theory) for Harvey to have both his halves work together. Definitely not an empathatic approach like you'd want from a therapist.❌❌❌

In conclusion:

Just as with his first second? session with Harvey, Jonathan demonstrates good skills as a therapist, but misuses those skills repeatedly. Again, he ignores ethics and purposefully causes distress to his clients, being even worse about it than the first session somehow. At least in the first session you could argue that he made some attempt to follow standard therapy room procedure up until a point. Here though? Definitely not.

In fact just to overview everything that happens in the session, because it's a bit much to process all at once:

Harvey goes to do this exercise blindfolded, not being told what's happening until he's already outside the window. Jon goes on this whole "trust me" spiel and Two-Face points out they were told to co-operate.

Jon talks about his drug JoyCure and how it's stopped Harvey's conflicted feelings. He then tells Harvey to remove the blindfold and report how he's feeling.

He then suggests/outright tells Harvey to do increasingly dangerous stunts. You could argue this is gradual exposure therapy, but done in the worst way possible.

After he gets Harvey to walk the flagpole, Jon tells Harvey he can come back whenever he's ready. During this he's very vocal and clear on what Harvey should do. Harvey can't make a decision, Jon knows this.

Harvey shits the bed because it turns out the real fear he has is over making a decision for himself. Jon knew this the whole time, and knew that JoyCure wouldn't help with that. Suddenly the method of therapy used has shifted to become flooding therapy.

Jon absolutely refuses to assist Harvey during any of this when it comes to overcoming his fears. The session only ends because Jon's secretary calls him.

So what can we get from this beyond our wonderful analysis subject being absolutely atrocious as a therapist? Well two major things stand out.

Firstly, that Jon knew from the beginning how everything would play out. He knew how JoyCure would affect Harvey and to what extent it would. He knew that "the fear that defines" Harvey was decision making, and he most likely figured this out this from as early on as the first session if one remembers how that went. Everything from beginning to end was elaborately set up in the session to make Harvey face his defining fear head on. This plays out very similarly to the first session- Jon steered everything in the direction he wanted it to go in just to make Harvey acknowledge his fears.

Thing is though, this premise has some... Interesting implications if one looks at what Jon talks about at the start of the session. Now granted I did try saying that Jon was speedrunning therapy last part of this analysis series. That idea still stands imo shitposty as it is. But to add to it though, to focus on how Jon apparently "talked about trust" before the session began. Two-Face responded that they were told to co-operate though rather than trust, and unless it's a situation where Harvey Two-Face misinterpreted something that was said, chances are he was just told to go along with it not that he has a choice. Trust was also mentioned first session too, where Jon explains that establishing a bond of trust would be the best way for him to help Harvey, and that translates to him removing Harvey's coin. Hell, Jon even tells Harvey "I think we're gonna make excellent progress if you just put your trust in me" as early as their first meeting (S2, E4, 33:04).

So what might this all mean? Just going off of the two sessions observed so far, Jon's method of doing therapy is to seek out what main fear makes a person tick, then try and get the person to acknowledge and/or face it head on whether they'd like to or not. His idea of "trust" is just having a person be unable to (or at the very least, not likely to) resist. As for his intentions about all this... That's honestly up for discussion. But! I'm hard pressed saying that none of it is him actually wanting people to overcome their fears. Not downplaying how terrible he is mind, but it'd be perplexing that a psychologist who would be only focused on traumatising clients (who can also uncover what a client is frightened by so rapidly too!) would still choose to try and get the client to recognise that fear in themselves rather than just, ya know, not telling the client their deepest fears and scaring the heebie jeebies out of them. He even goes as far as to set up a session on a skyscraper to make an elaborate point about Harvey's defining fear. He tells Harvey beforehand what he needs to do in the session, and it isn't just doing everything he says: "I want you to cooperate with you". If Jon talks about "trusting him" it's bad news. He asks whether Skids trusts him during the infamous Stabberscotch scene too, again a moment where the person he's asking to trust him is forced to co-operate (S2, E4, 5:06), reinstating the point. That said, given Jon's belief that "fear sets limits on courage" (S2, E4, 4:15), I don't reckon that him wanting to see people overcome fear is out of any streak of benevolence as much as him just wanting to see how far that person's fear goes. The possibility they might be able to overcome the fear might be the real enticing thing for him.

Second major thing that stands out, that this JoyCure thing he put Harvey on. It stops Harvey from feeling his fear of heights but not his fear of making decisions. As for why, I wager it's because JoyCure is a drug that causes feelings of euphoria and dulls basic fear caused by instinct, but it doesn't help at all with fears you actively think about.

If you're really confused right now by what I mean I don't blame you, but it'll make sense.

At the beginning of the session, Jon uses the co-operation talk to segway into rambling about conflict. According to him, everyone feels conflict, and Harvey is just a step up from that. Conflict is caused by fear, and "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties." (12:13). Harvey is on the drug, and he seems hunky-dory, not arguing with himself, but then again he doesn't have to: Jon is giving him instructions rather than making him do anything on his own. His fear of heights seemingly vanished, he doesn't feel even slightly nervous being asked to dance or walk a flagpole so high up. But, again, he's being told to do this. In fact, remember I mentioned earlier that Jon gave a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling"? That's the thing, Jon is saying here (whether intentionally or not) that a fear of heights is hardwired into us from birth. Harvey's fear of it isn't unusual at all, but JoyCure prevents him from feeling that instinct anyway. And to elaborate further, "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict", but Harvey is scared of heights, scared he might fall off because the height will harm him, and he's on a skyscraper so it's true. There is no inner conflict in knowing his feelings are unfounded, because they are.

So overall, if I'm right with this idea anyway self-preservation while on JoyCure goes functionally out the window. You'd normally get nervous putting your hand near a hot stove tops for example, knowing you'd get burnt, but if you took JoyCure you wouldn't feel any nerves at all about it. To again quote Jon, "Fear is a furnace which must be fed. What I have done is empty your mental coal tinder" (14:22) talking about how the drug works, that whatever "tinder" is there (in this case instinctive fear) is emptied. So, I suppose, consciously fearing is the equivalent of adding tinder again? I mean, Harvey starts feeling fear because he consciously has to make a decision, he has to think about it actively and worry actively, rather than just have the fear be reflexive like it would be dealing with something dangerous. I imagine because of this the drug also wouldn't work as a treatment for anxiety disorders. Very Sadge 💔

FINAL SCORE FOR THE SESSION:

🎊 1/10 🎊

How the hell Jon got worse than first session I have no idea but here we are. The extent of his therapy here is using psychological theory to prove a point to his clients that they're terrified of making decisions on their own. Elaborate and impressive! He probably spent more time planning how this session was gonna go than actually doing what's expected of him as a therapist.

This man does not care about ethics, client's feelings or whether his sessions might kill a man.

In fact he knows his sessions might kill someone. He plans them out after all:

"When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties"

#Batman #Batman the Audio Adventures #BTAA #BTAA Scarecrow #Scarecrow #Jonathan Crane #text post #analysis #Character analysis #How good is Scarecrow at therapy really?

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