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mothandpidgeon · 6 months ago

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Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)

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pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: E 18+MDNI

summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.

contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 9k

a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.

Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young

You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you.

You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller.

Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely.

Her words still ring in your ears.

“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”

“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life.

“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said.

You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.

So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you.

But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart.

“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder.

“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says.

“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask.

She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”

It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid.

You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you.

You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better.

It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now.

“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say.

That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture.

“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say.

Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”

“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”

You both laugh.

“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles.

You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her.

“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”

Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.

You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there.

At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face.

“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy.

She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen.

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself.

A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze.

“Mercy?” Sarah asks.

You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass.

Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air.

“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.

“Where’s your dad?” you ask her.

You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around.

“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.”

Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night.

The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller.

Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away.

You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands.

What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor.

You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.

“Help me,” he rasps.

He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something.

But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies.

As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral.

Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break.

Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster.

When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk.

Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground.

With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence.

This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you.

“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged.

Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete.

For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her.

“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.

There’s a thud and then quiet.

You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill.

Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway.

Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers.

“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says.

“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her.

“But she’s hurt!”

She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle.

Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck.

“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”

You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away.

You wait for a long time.

As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now.

You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes.

Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine.

For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare.

No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you.

He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family.

But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope.

The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning.

You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday.

You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt.

They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you.

He left you to die but you just go on living.

It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night.

You’re on your own.

A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.

At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone.

On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her.

You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.

Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead.

When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head.

It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk.

You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north.

You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival.

By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you.

They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal.

It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.

Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven.

You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached.

Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall.

It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table.

You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home.

Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you.

He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright.

“Uncle Tommy?” you manage.

“That really you?” he asks.

Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.

You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope.

“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”

He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife?

“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner.

And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller.

He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.

It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up.

He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become.

“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up.

He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel.

You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival.

“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago.

You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath.

“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall.

There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened.

At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks.

You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out.

“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes.

“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says.

It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you.

But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious.

“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself.

“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder.

“You should’ve saved her,” you bark.

Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back.

“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say.

You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing.

You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall.

The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel.

Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today.

It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine.

“You okay?” Ellie asks.

She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much.

He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall.

“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers.

It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken.

“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says.

She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out.

Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache.

Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted.

He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you.

The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded.

So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves.

“Want some company?” you ask.

He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in.

Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him.

“Surprised you remember,” he says.

“My best friend’s birthday?”

He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”

“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.”

You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living.

You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything.

You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck.

“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down.

“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.”

“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him.

“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says.

He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.

“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.

Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.

“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”

“Shit,” Joel says.

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”

“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”

You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear.

“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him.

A thick knot forms in his throat.

There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment.

He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch.

The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end.

“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”

You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out.

It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky.

The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“How’d…”

“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”

You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod. “I know where to find it.”

He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect.

“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask.

“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains.

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates.

You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since.

“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes.

He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile.

“How’s she look?” you ask.

He can’t help but chuckle. He nods.

You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair.

You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.

Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library.

Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor.

He’s still Mr. Miller, after all.

Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”.

He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved.

Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.

“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly.

You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.

You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”

“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink.

He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy.

“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing.

You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.

You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet.

You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago.

It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek.

“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours.

It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it.

“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say.

He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went.

You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night.

That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.

He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.

He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning.

And then you kissed him.

Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing.

You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone.

The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you.

That’s when he heard it.

It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong.

She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you.

He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again.

If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself.

He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you.

Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you.

“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon.

Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth.

“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.

“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”

“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs.

“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says.

“Dentment is not a word,” you reply.

“Neither is thoard,” Joel says.

“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.

This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life.

But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.

When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.

The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there.

Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips.

He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open.

“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,” he whispers.

“Stay,” you murmur.

He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back.

But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?

He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress.

Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well.

When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further.

You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could.

It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.

After a while, though, it happens.

Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them.

He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light.

You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment.

The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him.

You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper.

You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up.

It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever.

You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want.

You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul.

When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass.

You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him.

Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him.

Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply.

You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this.

You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories.

Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.

Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before.

But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.

You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back.

It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.

Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?”

You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft.

“Pretty,” he says almost to himself.

He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all.

Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart.

You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection.

Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years.

In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller fic #bfd!joel miller #jackson!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic

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mochiwonz · 10 days ago

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✉︎ - you love me too? ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x lee heeseung , fluff , cursing , skinship (kissing , hugging etc) heeseung is older than reader by 2 years , he babies her a litttleee , hes also kind-of a flirt and doesn't rly realize it ♡

𓍯𓂃 word count : 1.1k

𓍯𓂃 note : wrote this with orange haired hee in mindddd :3 i apologize for any grammar mistakes and this is my first time actually writing a fic, so pls don't hate me if this is complete ass !! (leave some notes or reblog if you enjoy :D)

Another agonizing day at the coffee shop. Disrespectful people were definitely the absolute fucking worst. Just because you're serving them drinks doesn't mean they get to treat you like shit. God, you just wanted to be in his arms, having him caress your hair and sit with you while he listened to you ramble on and on about how terrible work is. Heeseung always made you feel validated, like your feelings were real feelings and that they actually mattered. You sigh as you text him for the sixth time today "hey hee, i'm home..where are you? txt me plz" At this point, you're getting worried. He's supposed to be home, he always answers your texts.

*Ping!* Oh shit, it could either be your boss or heeseung. "Please be hee please be hee!!" you say out loud, hoping it'll do something. You slowly pick up your phone, hands shaking, and-

"YES ITS HEE!!!!!! FINALLY oh my god"

His text read "hey sweets <3 sorry for not responding...was busy doing smth at the salon. c u soon!" What? Salon? When has he ever been to the salon?....oh. The last time he went was when he dyed his hair back to black.

Oh shit, you're in big. fucking. trouble. God knows how much you love and adore and want heeseung, who wouldn't? He's like an angel, perfect nose with big bambi eyes, tall, and has the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on. One problem though, he's your bestfriend. Bestfriend of 4 years, actually. Bestfriends don't like eachother like that. It's fine, you just have a little crush...it's not like you love love him, right? Plus, he probably doesn't even want you like that.

Right as you were about to make your way to the shared bathroom, you hear a sound. Footsteps. Footsteps that could only belong to lee heeseung. Fuck.

"Hey sweets" he says, and you can hear his grin. Surprised, not expecting his voice to be all up in your ear, you quickly turn around. Oh. My. God. You're faced with a grinning heeseung with......orange hair?!

"YOUR HAIR IS ORANGE??" you exclaim quite loudly, sounding a bit too excited. He chuckles a little, and holy fuck he looks absolutely delicious.

"Yeah sweets, whatcha ya think?" he asks, in an almost flirtatious tone of voice.

What do you think??? You think you're 1. about to fucking explode, 2. lunge at him because he's so fucking fine, and 3. cum in your pants. Or, to be honest, all of them at once!

"Oh yeah, right uhm it looks fine!" God, you made it so obvious.

"You sure? You seem like you're lying sweets." he says while looking deeply into your eyes with his own beautiful bambi eyes and playing with his new orange hair. You swear he's purposely doing this. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, fuck. Get ahold of yourself y/n.

"Hee, of course i'm not lying. You look good, really good actually..." Shit, shit, shit. Why did you add that last part?? All you want to do right now is dig a hole into the ground and bury yourself.

You hadn't realized you'd been looking at the ground for a whole minute - sucked into your thoughts, until heeseung put his big hands on your chin and lifted your face to meet his.

"Yeah? I look really good?" he questions, voice laced with some sort of excitement. And as soon as your eyes meet his, he smiles. And all of a sudden, you realize, you don't have a crush on this man. You're whipped for him, you're in love with lee heeseung.

"Yeah..." you say under your breath. "Well thanks sweets, means alot coming from you, you know that right?" he tells you, with a sweet voice - almost cooing.

You don't respond, you can't respond. You're flustered as fuck. The man you realized that you're in love with, is less than 2ft away from you and almost...flirting...with you?

Almost a whole minute of silence goes by, nobody moves. Pained from the awkward silence, you decide to say something.

"Hey hee?.." you say, voice sounding small. "Mhm?" he hums, interested in what you're going to say next. "So okay, how do I say this. I think i'm in love with you. Actually, wait no, scratch that shit, i'm so fucking in love with you. I don't know if you even see me like that. You're so perfect inside and out, the man of my dreams actually. I don't even know what to do with myself when i'm around you. When you talk to me in a gentle voice or comfort me when i'm upset, all I want to do is kiss you. And I knoww this is cringey as fuck but I can't help it" you say, now out of breath from your rapping. (LMAOO<33)

Heeseung has an expression on his face that you can't seem to put your finger on. Shocked, unhappy, confused...you don't know. Before you could come up with any negative thoughts, he finally talks.

"Sweets...you mean that?" he asks, voice just as gentle as before, if anything - even more gentle. Can he stop staring at you like that? You're on the verge of exploding.

"Of course I mean it, dumbass." He giggles in response, and then brings his left hand onto your head as if he's patting your head and right hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. "Fuck, I love you so much beautiful. And you're right, i'm a complete dumbass. I waited way too long to confess, i'm sorry sweets." he says, smiling at you and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes.

"Wait...you love me too?"

Instead of responding to you, he brings you closer to him. You can feel his hand slowly moving from the top of your head to your waist. To not make it awkward, you bring your arms around his neck, causing you to tippy toe a little. He has the softest smile on his face. You thought you were in love with him? God, he is so in awe of you and your beauty. You probably weren't even aware that your cheeks were all pink and adorable.

You watch his eyes move from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. "Sweets, can I kiss you? Wanna know how you taste so bad."

And shit, how could you ever say no to him?

"Yes, please kiss me" you say in response, sounding desperate(as fuck).

As soon as he hears the "yes" slip out of your beautiful lips, he's quick to bring your faces closer together and close the gap. And fuck, his lips are perfect. It's like your lips were made for his and his were made for yours. Both of you were savoring this moment, your very first kiss with the man of your dreams, lee heeseung. Once you were out of breath, you finally pulled away - a string of saliva connecting your guys' lips.

Wasting no time, he picks you up as if you were as light as a feather, and spins you around like the princess you are. "I can finally call you my girl and my princess, and kiss you whenever I want!!" he exclaims, and you can tell hes smiling hard.

You laugh, feeling the happiest you've felt in forever. You look down to see him smiling at you, looking at you as if you were unreal. An angel. His angel ♡

oh my god LMAO hope this isn't too bad :p my other works are here <33

#heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #fluff #mochiwonz #heeseung enhypen #heeseung imagines

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 6 months ago

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Enough

*gasp* 2 uploads in 1 day?

Summary: The burden of leadership weighs you down but Astarion helps you shoulder it

Astarion knows what an empty smile looks like. After two centuries of putting one on, he can tell at a glance whether a smile is genuine or empty, and the smile you’re currently giving Karlach is anything but genuine.

He watches as you sort through today’s haul with unfocused eyes, you may be here physically but mentally you’re far far away, an image Astarion has seen in himself many times over. He can’t help but worry, he’s never seen you like this, and as the leader, if you weren’t in the right state of mind, well disaster was sure to follow.

But how is he to approach you? You’ve been keeping to yourself, only talking when spoken to with a tension in your voice that wasn’t there before. Poking one’s nose in areas where it didn’t belong is your thing, not his, and he’s afraid of ruining the relationship the both of you share. He clings onto that relationship like his life depends on it because to a certain extent it does, but also because it’s one of the few things he can call his own and he doesn’t want to lose it.

You head into your tent, the flap swallowing you whole but he remains where he is, hesitation preventing him from following you in. He fights with himself about whether he should enter, he knows he’s welcomed in your tent but he doesn’t want to intrude, so he lingers outside, pretending to busy himself with a book when he’s really listening in to your tent.

He keeps his concerns to himself when you don’t invite him into your tent for the night like you would usually do and heads to the woods to hunt, hoping that the chase will be enough to distract him from his worries but with each step he takes, all he can think about is the tired empty look in your eyes.

After taking far longer than usual to finish up his hunt, he heads back to his tent, ready to turn in for what remains of the night when he hears sniffles. Usually, he wouldn’t concern himself with such things but it’s different when it comes from your tent. He cautiously makes his way over, quietly hiding outside your tent as he debates whether to enter it or not until Karlach comes out of nowhere and gives him a little shove.

“Go on in, Fangs. You’re the only one whom they’ll listen to.” The Tiefling flashes him a grin before heading back to her own tent. Astarion watches her go, and then turns his gaze back to your tent where the sniffles have stopped, takes a deep breath and heads inside.

“May I come in, my dear?” He asks, lifting the tent flap.

“You’re supposed to say that when outside the tent not inside,” you sniff.

He can see your bloodshot eyes even as you try to avert your gaze, see the mess that your tent is in because you haven’t been tidying things up and makes his way over to you, sitting right by your side.

He doesn’t say a word, he’s not sure how’d you react to the practiced words he can so easily spout without a second thought and so he simply sits there, letting you know that he’s right next to you should you need anything. His gaze searches you for a hint of what else he can do and he holds out his arms so that you can fall into them. He curls around you, running his fingers through your hair like you do for him whenever he’s feeling down and feels you lean into him.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks, staining his clothes but he continues to wrap you in his embrace, patiently waiting for you to be ready to open up.

“It’s too much,” you whisper after a while.

“What is?” He murmurs, continuing to stroke your hair.

“Everything. This whole tadpole thing, this whole leading thing. I’m not suited to be the leader, all I’ve done is get everyone into terrible situations and everyone but me pays the price.” You begin to sob, the weight of it all crashing down on you. “Why am I even the leader? Is this all a mistake? Am I a mistake?”

“It’s not.” He says with such firmness it catches you off guard. He glares at you, red eyes glowing furiously. “It is not a mistake. You are not a mistake. Do not ever say that about yourself!”

He holds you tightly, burying his face into your hair. “You are the reason Cazador can’t control me anymore, you’re the reason I can figure out how to love again, you’re the reason why I don’t stare at my body in disgust and hatred anymore. Without you…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re my everything,” he whispers. “My everything. I want you to see that, to realise how important you are. You’re the only thing keeping this bunch of weirdos together, no one else can do that.”

You feel the dam break and tears start flooding out. You cry, wail, let it all out as he hugs you, clinging onto you. He feels his own undead heart ache at the sound of your cries and wishes he could fight your inner demons for you. Alas, just like how he has to fight his own inner demons off, you have to do the same thing too, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be there for you. After all, you are always there for him when they come, and you’re the one he chose to be his lover. He swore to protect you the day you confessed your feelings for him, and he will uphold that promise, no matter what.

He feels your nails dig into his flesh and winces slightly when they dig a little too deep, but it’s a small price to pay for your comfort.

“When the demons come knocking, remember that I will always be there for you. I will fight with you, protect you because I need and love you.” He’s never felt so vulnerable, his walls brought all the way down with this confession of his but he knows you won’t hurt him.

You bury your tear stained face in his chest, tired from all the crying but feeling lighter because of it. You feel his hand rubbing circles on your back, a comforting motion and your eyes begin to close, your body worn out from the day’s events.

“I need and love you too,” you mumble as exhaustion takes hold, your doubts and worries banished for another day. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #astarion

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victorbutnotreally · 1 month ago

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hellow..wanted to request hyunjin x mreader smut. but can you make it like smut at the end but just not the whole thing, cuz i just get so bored reading the full smut? idk if that makes sense, so you don't have to do it if you don't get it. that's alr. basically it's sweet and romantic cuz they've been real busy and shit. also, reader in a three-piece suit pretty please.

Missed you - Hwang Hyunjin x Male Reader

A/N: wrote this listening to 'Still With You' on loop. I recommend listening to it while reading this. also, three piece suit??? you have my heart, lovely anon.

warnings: unprotected sex, reader in a three piece suit bc yes, fluffy smut, swearing, praise

taglist: @forever-atiny

It's been far too long since he's seen you. Just when he thinks he'll spend time with you, something pops up. And the days where he'd get home early, you would be late. Hyunjin was laying in bed, wearing one of your sweaters as he gazes outside. The rain pattered softly on the roof, but now it seems to have gotten heavier. Your scent surrounded him as he buries his face in your pillow, wrapping his arms around it. He heard the door click open and his face lit up like a Christmas tree as he ran out of bed, excited to see you. He hugs you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he pressed a loving kiss to your damp skin that was wet from the rain.

"Hi, baby.." his voice sounded relieved almost, as if you came home from danger.

"Hey, sweetheart," your voice was laced with a smile and lots of love. You kissed his hair and shut the door behind you, getting in. His fingers carded through your damp hair, coming down to pinch your cheek. "Hey!" Your lighthearted protest was cut off by a kiss to your lips, his arms snaking around your waist. You kissed back, of course, trailing your fingers down his spine, making him shiver.

He seemed to remember that you were wet when his fingers found your hair again. "Come on, let me dry you off," he said, pulling you to the bedroom and making you sit on the bed while he grabbed your towel. He sat next to you and began drying your hair with the towel. Meanwhile, you were lost in your own world staring at Hyunjin. He looked so pretty in your sweater. You've always had a thing for him wearing your clothes. "I missed you." He smiled sweetly, leaning in to kiss your nose. "I missed you too, my love." You tossed the towel onto a nearby chair before taking off your suit jacket, leaving you in your olive coloured vest and white shirt. Hyunjin climbed onto your lap. "You sexy bastard," he mumbled, making you chuckle.

"Look who's talking." He pulled you in for a kiss, his sweater paws cupping your face. The kiss was full of love and longing, the first proper one in weeks. Your tongue soon slipped past his parted lips, your hands resting on his thighs. He pulled away for air, looking into your eyes with a needy gaze, hands already working on your vest. "I need you…I want you so bad, please," he spoke against your skin, leaving kisses on your neck. You tossed your vest somewhere carelessly, breath catching in your throat when he sucks a hickey onto your neck. You turn around, laying him down on the plush mattress beneath you. He pulled you in by your tie, catching your lips in another desperate kiss. You put you hand on the bed and kissed him back while his hands worked on unbuttoning your shirt.

"It takes so long to take your suits off," he whined. You chuckled, bumping your noses together. You liked many layers on Hyunjin, so you could undress him, piece by piece, and turn him into a mess before you even do anything.

"But you love it, Jinnie."

"Damn right I do."

Once he threw off your shirt, you kissed him yet again, running your hand up his your sweater. You broke the kiss to take it off, a smile forming at your lips once you see his torso.

"I missed you so much, darling," you say, kissing his jaw, your lips slowly moving down. You took off his shorts and he unbuckled your belt, the sound a sharp contrast to the soft patter of the rain outside. You slid off your pants and boxers in one go before spreading Hyunjin's legs. You leaned down, pressing feather light kisses to the soft skin of his inner thigh. You loved leaving hickeys there, where no one could see it. His thighs were a place where you could leave hickeys no matter what. His thighs wrapping around you snapped you out of your trance as you looked up at him.

"Squirming already, princess?"

"Need you so bad…please.."

"Shh..you don't have to beg."

You reach for the second drawer of your nightstand and take out a bottle of lube which you squirt onto your hand. You were about to finger him open when he stopped you. "I prepped already…please..just..fuck me."

You chuckle, cooing at his neediness. You press a kiss to his navel before positioning yourself between Hyunjin's spread thighs, the tip of your dick teasing at Hyunjin's entrance. You slide in slowly, bottoming out quite quickly before beginning to move. Your pace quickened, fueled by Hyunjin's beautiful sounds. You lean down and capture his lips again in a passionate kiss, your hips thrusting at a pace slower than you both are used to. You'll be rough on the next round..for now, you just wanted to enjoy your pretty boy.

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cityofmeliora · 1 month ago

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another absolutely insane Primo interview

in my first post about Primo's characterization, i noted that he has a dark sense of humor and possibly cruel inclinations. i recently found scans of a April 2012 Metal Hammer interview that features Primo and a Nameless Ghoul (big thanks to @ Primoismelting on twitter!!) i can now say with absolute certainly that he delights in evil and cruelty and being a villain.

this interview is like. really long. so i'm not posting a whole transcript. but here some highlights from this interview:

Primo says he would maim a panda bear for less than $500.

THERE ARE VARIOUS MEANS OF ASSESSING WHETHER SOMEONE IS EVIL OR NOT You don't need to wait until a person plunges a rusty pair of gardening shears through your eye to stop and think: "Yes, my reading of the situation is that he's a bit on the evil side." Criminal psychologists and those working in secure psychiatric facilities use questionnaires called psychopathy tests in order to judge whether someone is a grade A violent nutcase or not... whether they're mad or simply bad. Today's two subjects from the occult rock band Ghost – a sinister figure shrouded in robes who answers only to the title of A Nameless Ghoul and a desiccated cadaverous fiend wearing the pope's robes and mitre, called Papa Emeritus – have agreed to sit ARE YOU EVIL? 101. We tell them, "No one will ever find out. Tell me how much money it would take to persuade you to hit a panda really hard in the face with a brick." Despite his voice being disguised by electronic effects to help preserve his identity, the disgust in the Nameless Ghoul's answer is audible: "It would take a lot of money. An insurmountable amount of money." But you would not kill the panda – probably just fuck its nose up a bit. And I have a Large amount of money to offer you. But the Ghoul will not budge and is clearly appalled: "I will pass thank you. I have no desire to hit a panda in the face with a brick." Papa Emeritus pauses for what feels like an eternity before croaking: "One. Million. Lire.” A willingness to harm animals is often judged to be an indicator of psychotic behaviour. Most people would never agree to hit the unfortunate bamboo-eating, sex-phobic, monochromatic bear on the hooter. Papa is not only happy to do it but he also knows a Gene Simmons-sized business opportunity when he sees one, yet the Ghoul on the other hand has revealed he has a more moral outlook. This is very confusing. Another test is needed. Metal Hammer (April 2012)

the Italian Lira is a now-obsolete currency that was phased out and replaced by the Euro from 1999-2002. in 2001, its last year of usage, it had an average conversion rate of roughly ~2180 Lire = 1 USD. 1 million Lire would be about $460 USD. Primo dgaf about endangered animals LMAO.

Primo reacts with sinister glee at the idea of invading and conquering Poland. (understandably, this is the interview where a Nameless Ghoul compares him to H*tler.)

We put the following to them, "OK, consider this. You are passing by Poland. Do you stop and think A) What a fantastic opportunity, I must visit this famous land and soak up its rich culture and history and make new friends in the process, or B) I must annex this God-forsaken strip of dirt and grind its populace under the heel of my jackboot in order to create Lebensraum for my Reich which will reign in glory for a millennium?" The Nameless Ghoul stammers: "I have yet to step foot in Poland so it's a foreign country to me." Stop avoiding the question. Would you sooner visit Poland for a holiday or invade it? He sighs and says: "In my line of work we are pretty much into invading countries. Being a rock musician with the aim of putting on a very good show all around the world, it would be very handicapping to not explore the cultural aspects of countries you visit. But when you are in a band such as Ghost that's on the rise and you go to a country like Poland, you go there with the aim of conquering the country. You go to their country to enrich them with your culture of blasphemy.” Papa Emeritus does not add anything but he is grinning as much as his rigor mortis will allow and rubbing his hands together. It looks like in his mind he is already packing his bags and choosing a particularly severe tank commander's outfit for the trip. Again there is a big divide between the mysterious monk and his partially decayed singer. The conclusion of the test is far from clear. Could it be – as strange as it may seem – that they are nothing more threatening than ordinary travelling minstrels who simply wish to excite young people with an invigorating and theatrical "rock show"? Or are they indeed, as they claim, emissaries sent from Hades to recruit foot soldiers for the most evil of battles to come? More tests are needed. Metal Hammer (April 2012)

Primo has no problem with being compared to H*tler, but he DOES NOT want you to forget that his dick is HUGE.

The Nameless Ghoul says this is partially the point: "A lot of people presume we're parodying the church by inverting it but this isn't the case. We do the exact same thing as the church but we add a little topping to make a point. I think the real Pope is a very frightening character and that's the reason why he is an impenetrable, invincible and uncontrollable figure. It is the same with Papa Emeritus. You can't defeat Papa Emeritus because he's sacred. Most people find authoritative figures like the Pope enthralling. So he represents everything that is sacred, powerful and authoritative. It is very humorous as well, because not only is he our own Eddie, he's also Freddie Mercury, Adolf Hitler, Dracula, Marlon Brando and the Pope rolled into one.” Anger rouses Papa Emeritus from his near slumber: "Don't forget John Holmes!" The Nameless Ghoul sighs and corrects himself, throwing the 13 -inch-cocked porn star into the mix: "He is like Freddie Mercury, Adolf Hitler, Dracula, Marlon Brando, The Pope and John Holmes rolled into one.” Metal Hammer (April 2012)

Primo fucks, but he DOES NOT do foreplay.

"Thank you," says Papa E. It has to be said, while the singer no doubt cuts quite a figure in his robes and he undeniably has great bone structure, some of which is exposed to the elements, it's perhaps a shame that he doesn't have a better grooming routine as this might afford him and Ghost more young female fans. The Ghoul laughs raucously beneath his hood: "You'd be surprised at how many women flirt scandalously with him from the audience. The Ghouls get repelled when we see this happening actually. It is true that he has good bone structure but I think it is not so much his looks as the idea of him being whoever they want…” So basically you're saying that there are a lot of women out there who are having impure thoughts about a cadaverous cross between Hitler and Freddie Mercury in a dress? He lets out another chuckle: "Yes... yes, I am." Papa cuts in with a lascivious leer: "Whatever makes you think that I do not engulf myself in the carnal aftermath of our masses? I do, however, refrain from so-called 'foreplay'."

in the original lore, Papa Emeritus I was a zombie pope. he was supposed to be an actual literal corpse.

the interview makes several references to Primo being a zombie. he's described as 'cadaverous', having rigor mortis and exposed bones. the joke was that the title "Papa Emeritus" is the title of former popes, but a former pope would by definition be a dead pope, so the idea was that Ghost's Papa Emeritus I was a dead pope. this was before Pope Benedict resigned in 2013 and became the first living Pope Emeritus, ruining the joke, LOL.

#minimal commentary here bc i honestly dont know what to say #i think this really speaks for itself like. he's fucking crazy.#papa emeritus i #primo #radley post #the band ghost lore #quotes

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luvyeni · 10 months ago

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❛A VERY HAPPY ENDING❜ ( l. felix )

p. masseuse!felix x fem!reader w. 2.3k

warnings? fingering, boob play, oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, cum eating

— 𖦹 ( you're in need of a break and to relax, so your friend makes you a well needed reservation at a massage parlor ) !

authors note. i suddenly remember when felix would go around and give people massages and i came up with this, so enjoy 😁.

“Jesus yn, what the hell happened in here?” your roommate entered your room. “it’s like a tornado hit your room; did this, left — spun the block and hit it again.” She said, stepping over the pile of clothes on the floor to your bed. “im sorry I didn’t have enough time this week to clean, too busy at work.”

“looks like you didn’t have the time to do your hair and anything else, you look like a hobo.” You clicked away at your keyboard, rolling your eyes. “did you come in here to insult me?” you questioned. “cause that could’ve been a text.”

“I came in here to tell you that you need to take a break, you’re working yourself to death.” She voiced her concerns. “im fine.” You said. “baby no you not and that’s okay, we can fix that cause you can’t keep living like this.” She was right, — your job had recently had layoffs and you and the rest of the people that were spared were worked to the bone to replace the missing people; which meant more work and long hours, so you didn’t have much time to do anything.

“living like what?” you turned in your chair. “babe when was the last time you had any me time?” you shrugged. “maybe about a month ago, I think.” She sighed. “exactly you need to relax, that’s why as your roommate and the bestest friend in the world, I took the liberty of scheduling us both for a massage at my favorite masseuse parlor this weekend.”

“I don’t have time this weekend there’s a— nope I don’t want to hear it.” She covered her ears. “you’re gonna put the laptop down this weekend and go out and have some relaxation time.” She said. “even if I have to drag you out myself.”

You sighed, knowing your friends wouldn’t back down unless you agreed. “fine we’ll go.” She clapped, standing up. “great!” she chipped. “its gonna be great, I swear you’ll feel like a new woman after this.” She said hugging you; before making her way to the door, looking around the room once more. “and maybe then you’ll come to your senses and clean this pigsty.” She scrunched her nose up in disgust before leaving out.

The next few days were busy and finally Friday rolled around and the weekend was finally here. That evening you got home and your friend was already going at your room claiming ‘we need to get this together before we become new women.” You sighed, dropping your bag; changing your clothes before you also jumped in and you tackled the crazy that was your room; you both finished; covered in sweat from the deep clean. “girl you better be paying me fore that.” Your friend huffed. “I worked like a damn dog.”

“thank you.” You said, ready to take a shower and hop into bed. “no problems girl.” Your friend hopped up. “now get some sleep cause our girls day starts at 10:30 am sharp.” She skipped out her room. “and make sure to tidy up down there.” She pointed to your below area. “why do I need to do that?” you crossed your legs. “just listen to me, and do it goodnight.”

“is it noticeable.” You said looking down; had it been a long time? “no.” you scoffed getting your pajamas ready. “shes crazy.” You said, thinking for a minute. “well it couldn’t hurt anyone.” You grabbed a new razor from your nightstand before making your way into the bathroom.

The next day you a woken feeling a little bit more refreshed than usual; sleeping in a little later than normal and in a clean room really was nice. You woke up, getting ready for the day with your roommate.

You spent the whole morning and early afternoon out with your roommate; getting your hair and nails done, shopping for new clothes and other things for the apartment. It was almost time for you both to head over to the massage place; so you stopped for lunch then headed right over.

“we’re here.” She pulled into the parking lot. “it even looks fancy outside.” You stepped out of the car. “I booked our appointments for a least busy time so it should be empty so we won’t have to wait long.” You both walked into the place, standing at the front desk. “hello?” you friend tapped the bells and a boy came scurrying out.

“hello, welcome to our day spa, do you both have a appointment?” he said. “yes we do its under (f/l/n).” he typed down on the computer, your friend turned to you mouthing ‘he’s cute’ to which you shook your head at her antics.

“oh here it is.” He laughed after struggling to find it. “which one of you is scheduled for felix and which one of you is scheduled for changbin?” you turned to your friend. “does it matter?” she nodded. “changbin is much muscular and he hits all the right places “ you furrowed your eye brows. “you seem to know a lot about this place.”

“if I may?” the man in front of you said. “felix is very good too, he’s the most popular here, everyone always asks for him.” You nod, well if he’s good that’s all that matters, anyway a massage is a massage. “okay.”

He guided you both to two different rooms. “you can go in there and you there, they both should be here soon so you can get undressed and wait.” He walked away. “undressed?” you turned to your friend. “yeah you have to fully be undressed.” She said. “is that why you told me to shave?” she winked, walking into her room shutting the door. “crazy.” You walked into your room closing the door.

You stripped down to your underwear, taking the towel, wrapping it around your waist, pulling your panties down your leg, sitting them down on your pile of clothes — just as the door opened, making you jump, covering your chest. “oh im sorry I thought you’d be laying down already.” He said. “its okay.” You said. “I was just finishing up.”

“well you can lay down now and we can start.” He dimmed the lights. “I can light candles if you want.” You smiled, nodding. “thank you.” You laid down, your boobs hitting the cold leather, making you hiss at the sensation. “you okay?” felix finished lightning the last candle. “y-yes im fine.” You felt your face heat up that he heard that noise. “okay we can get started now.”

You rested your head on your arms; you felt a warm liquid hit your back, making you flinch. “is it too hot?” you shook your head. “just shocked me a little.” You heard him chuckle. “don’t be scared, its just eucalyptus and peppermint oil.” He explained, you felt him rubbing it along your back, you sighed at his touch. “it helps with inflammation and pain.”

The boy in the front was right; he was a godsend with his hands, it’s like he knew you like the back of his hand, hitting all the right places, your body slowly began to relax. “you seem so tense, do you work a lot?” he asked. You hummed. “its not good to work like that, too much stress can cause a lot of knots and that causes pain.” He pressed down on one spot that made your eyes shoot open; a low whimper coming out of your mouth.

“oh , im sorry.” You cursed at yourself, embarrassed at how it just slipped out. “that’s good, it means I’m doing a good job.” He said. “don’t be embarrassed.” He said in a low soft tone, his deep voice sending a wave of arousal in your gut. “let out all the noises you want.”

His hands moved to your side, rubbing them gently; making his way up to the side of your boobs. “is this okay?” you hummed, pretty sure at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept talking to you like that.

His hands rubbed the sides of your bust gently, you bit your lip to contain any noises that tried to force their way out. “you don’t have to hide them.” He said. “I want to hear them.” You couldn’t for the life of you wrap your head around why this stranger has such an effect on you; but you didn’t stop the next noise that came out of your mouth. “fu-fuck.”

He worked down your back, right above your ass, where the towel covered, pressing down. “its seems really tense here.” He pressed down harder, you whimpered. He worked down to your legs, pushing the towel to sit right above your thighs. He poured some more warm oil on your legs, rubbing your calves, making his way up to your thighs — dangerously close to your bare bottom.

Felix never would’ve done this with another client; he would’ve stopped right at your back — but he couldn’t help it, you were making so much noise and he had to admit; it was turning him on, a lot — and he wanted to see how far he could go.

His hands were entering dangerous territory as he rubbed the in of your thighs, you could feel the heat of his fingers on your cunt, he could easily touch it if he wanted — and you really wanted him to.

It’s like he read your mind cause his next words made your heart race. “if you want me to touch you, you have to say something.” He said. “I wont do anything you don’t want me to.” He said. “i-I want you to.” You said breathlessly. “then turn around.”

You turned on your back, his hands work all the back up to your boobs, gently cupping them; you let out a soft moan. “let me hear you.” He pinched your bud, your back arched up; giving him the leeway to undo the towel, your bare cunt for him to see — thank god you shaved. “so pretty.” His hands travel down to your pussy, lightly touching it. “pl-please.”

“you want me to touch you?” you nodding. “ye-yes.” He smiled, his hand spreading your legs; fingers grazing your clit. “good you used your words.” He rubbed your clit, spreading your folds. “such a pretty cunt.” He whispered. “so soft.” He pushed a finger inside of you. “so wet.” He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling the to hit that gummy spot inside of you. “you gonna cum, I can feel you clenching.” He used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “you can cum.”

And just like that you were on his finger, moaning out loud. “so loud.” he sat on the massage table in front of your breathless naked body. “I want to hear more.” He kissed your neck, climbing on top of your body to leave little kisses down the valley of your breath, taking a nipple into his mouth as he sat on his knees in between your legs, his hard cock evident as he pressed it against your cunt.

“sh-shit.” You moaned as he grinding his hips against you, sucking on your nipples. “pl-please fuck me.” That was all he needed, before he undid his pants freeing his hard cock. “you sure you want to do this?” he said. “im a stranger and — I want this, please.” You needed this, you needed him to fuck you. “please fuck me.”

He pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” He slowly worked himself in and out of you. “you need to relax, you’re so tense I can barely -fuck- I can barely move inside of you.” You whined as he used the pad of his thumb to rub your bud. “that’s it.” He sighed. “open up for me.”

He moved his hips fluidity, his cock hitting all the spots your vibrator just didn’t. “fe-felix.” His name flowing right out of your mouth as he worked his way in and out of you. “fe-feels so good.” He moved faster, you felt your orgasm approaching. “im gonna cum.” Your voice was shaky as your clenched tightly around him.

“fuck me too.” He grunted, he moving faster. “felix im cumming.” You gasped, the knot in your stomach snapping as you came. “shit you’re too tight.” He moaned, his orgasm approaching quickly. “shit.” He pulled out as fast as he could, cumming all over your cunt. “fuck.”

“one more.” He said, his face near your cunt. “I want to give you one more.” He licked your folds, the taste of your cunt and his cum on his tongue was dizzying. “fu-fuck.” You were feeling overstimulated at the point, but you still felt your third orgasm approaching fast. “oh fuck.” You gasped. “fuck im gonna cum!” thinking he was gonna move away, but he didn’t he stayed there drinking up all you have to offer. “fe-felix.” You had to push his head away to keep him from going on.

He pulled away, wiping his mouth; your body was fully relaxed by now; the service time was probably long over. “shit my boss is gonna kill me.” He quickly redressed himself, helping you get dressed. “that sounded harsh, I really liked it.” He said, you laughed, pulling your shirt down. “I understand, my friend has probably called me a thousand times.” You pulled out your phone, and believe it or not there were no phone calls from her, but two text messages.

(friends name)🩷| I told you you’d like him…

(friends name)🩷| have fun girl, I’ll wait in the car😉

Your face burned with embarrassment. “I would like to see you again.” He said. “me-me?” he nodded. “yes, if that’s okay.” You nodded. “I would love to see you again.” He smiled, as you gave him your number. “lets see each other soon.” He nodded. “is the weekend coming up okay?” he wanted to see you as soon as he could — he needed to. “We can get dinner and maybe see a movie.” He moved closer to you, caging you against the bed a smirk on his face.

“and I can give you a even better happy ending than today, only if you’re good though.”

©️LUVYENI

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bubybubsters · 2 months ago

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Falling For You (eris x you)

Eris Week 2024- day one: bonds

a/n: hey yall welcome to eris week! my personal fav week. thank you @erisweekofficial for hosting this!

eris week masterlist

masterlist

You hum a soft tune as you and Lucien head towards the busy town market. The two of you were roommates and had run out of... well basically everything needed to live. Neither of you had gone shopping in 4 weeks all because of a stupid fight in which you both believed you were in the right. You'd only made up because you'd both agreed food and wine were necessary to enjoy a good life.

As you approached the first stall selling fresh fruit, someone running at full speed smacked straight into your side. This, of course caused you to fall and collide into Lucien who, despite his many muscles, also fell and collided into the fae near him.

A whole chain reaction of people tripping and stumbling occurred and half of the market turned into disarray. All because of a stupid running fae that-

You froze. The person that had caused this was... downright beautiful. His eyes were a lovely shade of amber and his hair a fiery red. There was a splatter of freckles over his nose and cheeks that left you reeling.

You felt Lucien stiffen on the ground under you and you suddenly realized you were lying on top of him. You cringe and make a move to get up when a hand extends into your vision. "Let me," the strangers smooth, silky voice cuts through the air.

You reject his hand, getting up on your own. Lucien stands up so fast, you swear he gets whiplash. He glares at the male.

"Eris. What brings you here?"

"Oh Lucienn, it's so nice to see you again, little brother, just the person I was searching for actually."

You blink, Eris? As in Eris Vanserra? Like the recently appointed High Lord, Eris Vanserra? You panic, having just rejected your high lord's hand offer, you quickly move to sink into a bow when your best friend's hand lands on your shoulder.

"Don't. He's not worth your loyalty." You've never heard your friend's voice this cold.

"Ouch, that hurts lil bro," Eris mock pouts, putting a hand on his perfectly sculpted chest.

"Lucie?" You look up at the scar on Lucien's face, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. He's looking at Eris, mouth set in a line, heat radiating.

"Who's this lovely lady?" Eris drawls, "Where have you been hiding her all this time?"

"She is off limits." Lucien glowers.

You frown, glancing at your friend before going to address Eris. But the moment you meet his eyes your world tilts, a sudden bright light making you gasp. A loud, clear snap cutting through the world as you know it.

Eris is your mate.

"Y/n! Are you alright?" Lucien's concerned face slides into your vision and you realize you've fallen so you're leaning against him. The rest of the crowded market has went back to their previous business. Everything is back to normal. Except....

"Get your hands off my mate." Eris's low growl reverberates through the space, causing many people to turn and frown at him before realizing he's the High Lord and turning back as if nothing happened.

Lucien pale ten shades. "What did you say?"

"She's my mate."

You grunt, body instinctively leaping forward upon hearing Eris's voice. Cursing the Cauldron and the Mother and every old god you can think of you clutch your chest with one hand and Luciens sturdy bicep with another.

You glance up at Eris only to see him watching your hand grip Lucien's arm. You quickly let go, stepping in front of Lucien.

"Do not hurt him."

Eris gawks at you, offended. "You find out I'm your mate and the first thing you ask is for me not to hurt my own brother?"

You glare. "There is no way my kind, caring friend is your egotistic asses brother."

Eris's mouth opens in pure shock.

A slightly choked laugh comes from behind you, "You would not have called me kind and caring twenty minutes ago when you were throwing a pillow at my face telling me to do the shopping because I'm a 'egotistical fae brute.'"

You groan and take a playful swing at Lucien. "Ok fine, maybe you are brothers. But... Luc, what do I do about the mating bond?"

Lucien shrugs, "It's your choice."

Eris smirks at you. "That, my brother is right about. I won't force you into anything... unless you want to be forced of course."

You raise your brows at him and he puts his hands up as if to say, don't kill me, I'm just stating facts.

You sigh, shaking your head, barely suppressing a smile.

A sudden wave of emotion comes down the new bond in your chest. Joy, relief, fear and a pinch of desperation.

You blink at the male in front of you, dressed head to toe in fancy clothes, eyes sparkling, hair flaming and face smiling.

You think you can make this work. Maybe you were wrong to curse the cauldron earlier. Maybe it was right. Because this male in front of you sure does seem just right.

"Ugh stop..." Lucien's voice cuts through your thoughts. "You two are already so lovey dovey I can see it in your eyes. It's gonna make me hurl."

You and Eris both shoot him an identical glower.

thank you @anitalenia for dividers

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!

Fight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them.

Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877

Fight

Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine.

You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.

Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast.

“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”

You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.

“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”

You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“

Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”

“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”

“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments.

“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not.

“Then what is the point?”

With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“

You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”

There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment.

“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.

Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him.

Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”

Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.

But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”

Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”

Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward.

Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced.

From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.

“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”

“What about breakfast?” He asks.

“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.

When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches.

You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble.

Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you.

You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?”

The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word.

During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”

Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”

“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back.

“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”

Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”

You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more.

Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for.

Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”

He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.

“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”

“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan.

“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.”

“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him.

“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.

It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head.

Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day.

“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor.

You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear.

Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel.

He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.

“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place.

Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”

You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you.

“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”

He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical.

Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you.

“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.

“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”

You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous.

His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips.

“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”

“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly.

“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”

“Definitely not in pain.”

Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch.

“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel.

The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.

The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan.

“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”

You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body.

“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”

Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over.

It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard.

“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants.

“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.

Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim.

And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut.

You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release.

“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”

“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth.

“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss.

“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”

“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.”

Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.”

He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.

“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.

“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies.

“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly.

The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.

Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

Text

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Six)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,964

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, rql sex (male receiving) grinding, neck kisses, dry humping, mentions of character death,night terror, blood, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

A/N: Man oh man what a silly fluffy slice of life spicy series we got! It would be a shame if something happened 😀—😈

*MDNI*

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Think that you were an easy-going person who got along well with everyone. Generally, you were easy-going unless someone fucked you over, then you were a bit salty. Manami Suda Was the only exception. You could not stand her guts. She would be the only person he would gladly hit with your car.

“Manami,” you spit back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Suguru is expecting me.”

“Mm, he didn’t mention anything to me. You would assume he would make his schedule.”

“Ha, funny, let me in.”

“Huh,” she purses her red-painted lips together. “Let me check with my client and see if he’s available. We’re both swamped.”

You roll your eyes, pushing open the door, poking your head. “Suguru, call your Hellhound off.” Manami presses herself to the side, trying to block you from getting further inside the apartment.

“Geto is busy at the moment, but he’ll call you later.”

“Busy my ass Suguru!!”

Upon hearing you call his name again, Suguru headed out of his makeshift studio. He was covered in different blue paint hues, smeared on his forearm and cheek. His eyes darted between you, trying to force your way inside before back at his agent, who was fighting against your attempts. Dark ice glitter with the amusement at how you were putting all your effort into trying to squeeze past her

“Manami, let her in.” He finally said with a chuckle. “Before she starts gnawing at the door frame.”

“Ha!” Manami sidestepped again just as you tried pushing yourself inside, resulting in you falling face forward with the yelp dropping the groceries.“Geto called you a termite.”

Wincing, you sat up, rubbing your chin. Suguru had better put an ad online for a new agent because his current one was about to disappear without a trace. “But she’s the cutest termite in the whole world.” The bluntness and flirty tone of his voice had both you and Manami glancing at him as he headed into the kitchen.

Since when did he start calling you cute around other people? That was usually something someone said about their partner, right? Not their best friend. More importantly, why the hell did you love it?

Manami was too stunned to speak as she gaped at her client before looking back at you. You felt her eyes on you, so you didn't know what any mature adult your age would do. You glanced back up at her and smiled as wide as you could before sticking your tongue out at her. She glared, nose pinching up in annoyance as she flipped you off with her sharp, manicured nails. To which you shot back, flipping her off with both hands as you sat up on your knees.

“Girls.” hearing Suguru call you both out stopped the childish faces and the middle fingers, but no amount of tone, yelling, or godly power could prevent the glaring daggers you gave each other.

“We’re fine, Geto.”

“Yeah, Suguru!”

“You shouldn't use his name so freely!”

“Oooh~ last time I checked, I’ve been his best friend for over a decade!”

Manami clenched her fists together. “Yes, I am aware of that. You make it a point to remind me of that every time I see you.” You stood up, putting the groceries in the kitchen before flopping onto the couch.

“Because you act like I should be courteous and cold to him! I've known him longer than you. So kiss my ass.”

“Geto!” Manami barked, her hair flowing as she looked into the kitchen. “Do you hear the way she's talking to me?”

Your eyes focused on the way Suguru washed paint off his arms. His hands brushed back stray dark strands of hair behind his gauged ears. “Manami, if you just let her in, she wouldn’t be in such a mood.” A certain pleasure settled in your stomach. “She’s always welcome in my apartment whether I’m working or not, you know that.” For some reason, your stomach twisted, and heat pooled between your legs as he told her pretty much to fuck off.

Suguru heard the faintest whimper from the direction of the living room. Looking through his lashes, he smirked, seeing your flushed face. God, you were so easy to rile up. For once in his career, he wanted to shove his agent out and pin you against the sofa. He wanted to pry open your thighs that were pressed together open. Desperate to see if you were as wet as you were a few days ago at breakfast. God Suguru wanted to taste you again, to make you cry on his tongue.

His cock twitched, and he realized now might not be the best time to be sporting a boner in the presence of professional company. So he turned the water in the sink to cold and threw it on his face. There would be a time to get a bit more intimate later. He needed to keep his composure and not eat you out with his agent in the room.

“Fine, but we aren’t done discussing business.”

“I know.”

You watched from the couch, noticing the annoyed look in Suguru’s eyes, and Manami stepped forward. “The aquarium called again; they want to know if you—”

“No.”

“Geto—”

“I said no.”

The aquarium? You blinked, sitting up and tilting your head. Did it have to do with his most recent painting of Riko?

Manami sighed, pulling her phone out. “They increased their offer for you to do the commission.”

Suguru was exceptionally talented. His paintings of dragons, creatures, and sceneries had gone viral in high school, earning him a full ride to art school. He was selling paintings, being commissioned, thriving, and getting paid to do what he loved. He, of course, had rules for commissions he took on from strangers and whatnot, but to deny an aquarium wasn’t like him.

“No,” Suguru repeated more firmly.

“You’d only be—”

A loud crash causes you and Manami to jump as Suguru throws his cup of paintbrushes into the sink. “Manami, no. That’s my final answer.” It was rare for Suguru to get pissed; he was usually well-tempered. So, for him to snap like that was out of character and meant he didn’t want to do whatever she had set up for him.

Manami sighed, grabbing her phone off the kitchen counter and shoving her cell phone inside. “I know it’s a reminder of the past, but it’s good money.” She slid expensive name-brand sunglasses on before turning on her heels with a strut in her step. “Think about it; I’m not sending the denial letter yet.” Without another word, she left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Well,” you started, pouting as you hummed, “she is a peach.”

“Yeah.” Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before focusing his undivided attention on you. “So, uhm, what’s on the menus for dinner? I can help?” He grabbed the brown paper bags, beginning to unload them without another word.

You didn’t mean to pry about what was going on in his life. You knew him better than you knew himself at times. So, he would tell you if he wanted to talk about what was happening. The only time you got involved with what was happening during his work, you were utterly concerned about him and his well-being. So instead of saying anything, you just not at your head as the two of you made dinner together.

But the entire time we both stood in the kitchen silently in tune with each other, your mind kept drifting off to what exactly he was asked to paint. It seemed a little strange that he was asked to paint something at the aquarium, and his current canvas depicted Riko at the aquarium in Okinawa before the accident. That might be triggering his current nightmares, along with the fact that he has never truly forgiven himself for the accident that wasn’t his fault at all.

You knew he blamed himself for what happened. He wasn’t fast enough to push Riko out of the way when the car approached them. He saw her like a little sister. Watching the life fade from her eyes while he was fighting for his own life would traumatize anyone.

That sort of trauma never leaves. It lingers forever, which it had for your best friend. After the accident in her death, he started seeing a therapist every week. He’s on severe anxiety and depression medication, and for a while, his artwork took a very dark turn. He wouldn’t see anyone. He lost a ton of weight but always insisted that he was fine, just tired.

It wasn’t until he snapped when his nieces Nanako and Mimiko were in a car accident themselves that he lost all of his composure. he broke down having a mental episode. He nearly beat the ever-loving shit out of the man that caused the accident. The man had been remorseful, paying for everything from the car to the medical bills for the girls, but that wasn’t good enough for Suguru. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done. In a way, he saw it as the driver that caused Riko’s accident to pay for the pain the two of them went through.

Suguru was lucky enough to have you and your mutual friends by his side. All of you helped him get the help that he needed. You were there when he needed to talk or was having a rough day. That was one of the many reasons you both lived in the same apartment complex. He felt safe around you. Suguru knew he was with you. He was seen for who he was and for not being the man who couldn’t save his friend's life.

Despite it not being his fault at all.

And well, he had healed over the years,

Like anyone else living with that kind of trauma, he had his good days and his bad days from his sleeping over, insomnia, and how he reacted to Manami pushing him to do the mural at the aquarium. He was having a rough week.

After eating a delicious home-cooked meal and cleaning the kitchen, you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television as Suguru gently ran his hand up and down your thigh. Some thriller played in the background; at this point, it was mindless background noise as your mind reeled, trying to think of what to say.

Your silence and uptight demeanor had Suguru’s dark eyes darting towards you every few seconds. There was something on your mind, something he knew you were contemplating saying. But much like you, he wasn’t one to pry. He knew in the last decade that you were upfront with him whenever you wanted to talk about an issue. But from the shyness in your touch to how you kept looking at him, he figured that maybe you wanted to make a move or ask him to teach you something new.

God, you were just so cute and shy. He wanted you to feel comfortable, to tell him what you wanted. But at the same time, he knew you. There was no way you would be upfront and ask home to do stuff with you or ask him to teach you more things. Until you were ready, he would have to continue making suggestions or ask how you felt and what you wanted to do.

Giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, your eyes dart in his direction. “Did you get all your rewrites done for Utahime? How did the meeting with her go?” Your face lit up.

“Oh, it went well; she loved what I had! She said my writing has improved.”

“That’s great! Do you get any time off? Like to relax that big brain of yours?”

With a pout, you collapsed into his side with a huff. “No, she wants the next chapter in two weeks. So I have to write it, have Nanami read it, edit it, and then I can send it to her.” The feeling of Suguru’s hand leaving your thigh left a trail of goosebumps in its wake as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Oh, well—do you need help with the next chapter? Or are there fewer spicy scenes in this one?”

You scoff, resting your chin on his upper arm. “That’s what you bookworms call sex scenes in books, right; spicy scenes?”

“Awee~ you do listen.”

“I listen when it’s you.”

You resist the urge to kiss him, opting for blushing instead. “Uhm, right! Yeah, so—“ you clear your throat, “it’s more plot than spice, but I’m not opposed to—ya’ know, adding spice.”

This was your way of telling him you wanted more without outwardly saying it. This was keeping your friendship safe. Besides, just because you didn’t use it in this chapter didn’t mean you wouldn’t use it in the future!

Suguru was slightly disappointed when you first said there were no spicy scenes in this current chapter. He felt like you did, not wanting to ruin your friendship. But to hear you say that you weren’t opposed to adding spice to your current chapter and all the worries and disappointment vanished. Suguru hummed, putting his hand behind his head and slowly licking his lips as he watched you sit up.

“Oh really now?”

“Mhmm~ I just don’t know what to add~ maybe you—” You slid your fingers down his ab’s, gently sliding them underneath the hem of his shirt. Your manicured nails gently ran over his happy chill, making Suguru twitch in anticipation. “Do you have a suggestion for what I could add to this chapter?”

“Mmm, well, you could always have Oaklynn go down on Ilsan, or you could have them dry hump or grind.”

You toyed with the waistband of his sweat, biting your lip as you felt his cock twitch, growing harder the more you rubbed the band. Your eyes were so focused on his pants that Suguru could hear the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach filled as you looked up, meeting his gaze. He swallowed hard at the lustful need burning in your eyes. It’s hard to believe you had never been kissed a week ago, and now you were playing with his waistband to his sweats so suggestively?

What the fuck was this life?

“Sugu—can I touch you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

With his consent, you tugged his sweats down to rest over the top of his thighs, finding a tent in his boxers. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing the way your touch affected him. You knew his body was probably reacting naturally to an intimate touch. Part of you wish this might be more than a physical reaction deep down inside. But that was ludicrous because he was helping you out.

But maybe it could turn into something more you wouldn’t oppose.

“You’re already hard.” You said with a blush, your hand gently brushing over the hardening shaft in his boxers.

“What can I say? I have my beautiful best friend touching me.”

“Can this beautiful friend return the favor from the other day?”

Subaru chokes on his spit as you gently talk the band of his boxers down. If you want to, that shouldn’t be an issue. But you don’t have to return the favor! The cutest pout graces your lips as you reach out gently, grabbing his shaft and squeezing it. “Ooooh, fuck—”

“Oh! Sorry, did that hurt? I was trying to be a bit more confident!”

“N-No, it felt really good.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm—” You bite your lip in concentration, trying to mimic the moves. He had done when he first jerked off in front of you. “I want you to feel good.”

Subaru could not believe you were saying this. The same girl that hadn’t had an orgasm in her entire life less than a week ago. Was now stroking his cock with confidence in your eyes! There was no way he would ever extinguish that burning lust in your eyes. He would encourage you to do what you wanted if you were comfortable doing this because he would be lying to himself if he said that he hadn’t dreamed about something like this happening for as long as he could remember.

“The, by all means, feel free to keep going; it feels fucking great. Unless you need me to help tell you what to do?”

“No, I think I got this.” You pulled your hair back before situating yourself in between his legs, holding his shaft close to your mouth. “Just sit back and relax, okay?”

“Okay.”

Suguru watched with bated breath as you slowly leaned down. Your eyes were focused on his before your tongue darted out, kitten licking his tip. The man lost his shit right there. Suguru threw his head back, grunting as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Fuck, it felt good mentally and physically. Finally, have you been doing the things he had imagined doing since he was a teenager? It was better than he could’ve imagined. God, he wasn’t going to last long.

His tip's salty yet sweet taste made you more eager to take him in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around relishing in the sounds that escaped your best friends mouth. One of his hands gripped the back of his sofa while the other grabbed his shirt, tugging it tight. He looked so hot when drowning in pleasure; seeing him like that gave you a confidence boost. You had never done this before, but you had read plenty of erotic novels, and you knew how to eat a popsicle. Putting both of them together gave you an idea of what to do.

While his chest heaved up and down, eyes shut tight, you took the whole head of his cock into your mouth you hummed. That action alone made Suguru’s hips buck up with a whine. His thrusting, pushing his cock against the back of your throat, made your eyes water as you gagged around him. Almost instantly, Suguru pulled back out, sitting up on his elbows to look down at you with concern etched into his features.

“Fuck Princes, I’m sorry! Are you sorry?”

“Mhmm!” You hummed around him, making his jaw clench at the vibrations around him.

“F-Fuck—haaah—fuuuuck.” His hand slowly slid down, tangling in your hair, not forcing you down his shaft further. He just held onto you. “Fuck—”

You can’t help but stare up at him. The way his jaw drops, his eyes narrowing as they darken with lust. Watching him slowly lose himself to the pleasure had you squirming. You could feel yourself getting wet as the heat began to pool between your legs, urging you to keep going, to take him further into his mouth. So you did; inhaling through your nose, you took more of your best friend into your mouth, gagging slightly as he slid further down into your throat.

Suguru was utterly losing himself in the sensation of being buried in your mouth. I was so wet and tight, and you knew what you were doing. Despite being a virgin and never having a boyfriend, Suguru was thoroughly impressed with how well you were taking him. Your lips around his thick fat cock, taking him down your throat, had him teetering on the edge of his release like he was a virgin.

He dropped his arm off the back of his couch, covering his eyes. What the hell was happening to him? Why was it he could barely compose himself when he was around you?

You always had that effect on him. “Fuuuck—shit—” His fingers gently scratched your scalp as you took him deeper, bobbing your head up and down, making his cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum. “Fuck~ you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl~ so good.” A rosy blush dusted Suguru’s cheeks as his chest heaved faster, the muscles in his abdomen twitching from the pleasure.

Pulling off his cock, you slowly lick the underside of it right against the vein. He had grazed when he would touch himself. The most sensitive part of his cock. A hiss passed through his lips while his hands remained tangled in your hair. You grinned, pressing gentle kisses over him, nibbling on the soft skin before your kitten looked at the leaking slit.

“Could you maybe— fuck my throat?”

If you hadn’t been squeezing his bass when you were, Suguru was afraid that he might cum all over your hand at your request. “W-What seriously?” Your request was not entirely out of left field. It still left him in stunned silence.

“Yeah, Ilsan is a bit rough, so I wanted to see what it was like?” When in reality, you just wanted to see him lose all of the control he was barely grasping.

“I can do that, but if it gets too intense, just tap my thigh, okay?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to have Suguru grab onto your hair with both his hands and force his cock into your mouth. “M-Mmmphm!” as he slid his shaft over your tongue and down the back of your throat with a gentle thrust.

“Fuck yeah, Princess~ god, you must feel so fucking good~” he pulled his shaft out of your mouth, just about to hit the back of your teeth before he slammed back into you, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. “Nngh! Shit~ ooooh fuckin’ hell, that’s so good.”

“Mmm! Mmmhpm! Mmm!” You cried out each time his cock slid in and out of your mouth, making a mixture of drool and pre-cum leak out the sides of your mouth, dribbling down your chin and onto the couch beneath you.

“Oooh god—oooh fuck—haaaah!” A low moan sounds deep in your best friends chest. He lifted his head, watching his tears weld in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, a trail of mascara left on your pretty, beautiful cheeks. “Fuck—Princess, I’m going to—I’m gonna cum. Wh-Where do you—nngh!”

Upon hearing his orgasm was approaching him, you grabbed both of his thick thighs, squeezing them as you moved in tandem with his hand. Your head up and down as fast as you could without making yourself gag more. Your eyes were transfixed solely on him as tears blurred your vision. Suguru knew where you wanted him to cum—and it was down your throat.

“F-Fuck—I-I’m cu-cumming! Cumming!”

Spurts of his hot cum that had covered your hand days before now filled your willing mouth. It was salty but also strangely sweet. That might be because Suguru was always eating healthy and making sure to eat plenty of vegetables and fruit. You’d have to thank him for that later; right now, all you could focus on was how good he tasted all over your tongue.

You swallow every drop, only pulling away when Suguru’s grip on your hair loosens and rests on your head, gently stroking your hair back. He was grinning drunkenly as he watched you lick your lips, smiling down at him as you fixed his sweats. Once you were done, he yanked you down to rest on his chest as he continued to caress you with his hands gently.

“Are you sure you’ve never done that?” The tone of his voice was stern. “Because holy shit, you sucked the soul out of my dick.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, snuggling into his chest as you rested your chin on his sternum, watching him closely. “Yep, I’ve never done that.” He shook his head, taking a deep breath as he did. “Did I do a good job?”

“I just said you sucked my soul out of my cock; yes, you did a phenomenal job, Princess.”

You smiled sweetly, losing yourself in his stare as he leaned down to kiss you softly. For the briefest moments, you stiffened, but you found yourself melting into his kiss with a happy hum. This was the perfect way to research for your book.

That was the sort of way things went about for two weeks. Grinding, making out, oral sex, and nothing between you changed, aside from the constant need to be around each other. You both had been close before, but now you were practically inseparable.

Weekends were spent together, meals were shared as you worked together, or Suguru sketched in your apartments while you wrote at his place. Not only did your work improve during this change, but you could also see a change in Suguru. He looked less tired, wasn’t having any more nightmares, and just seemed genuinely happy.

God, what a time to be together.

A time where you were closer and happier. Things felt so good, and the more time you spent together, the more you began to worry less about your book and focus more on your relationship. You created different scenarios for your characters to spice things up for your ‘research.’ And you knew deep down that Suguru knew it was a bullshit excuse to hook up. You could see it in the way his dark eyes would twinkle with mischief before he agreed to do whatever you requested with no questions asked.

“Fuck!” You gasped out as Suguru ground him against your clothed sex. His hands were hooked under your knees, spreading them as he sensually ground to the low R&B playing through the speakers. “Fuuuck~ that feels good.”

“Heh—yeah, it does.” His lips attached to your neck sucking and kissing on the sensitive skin. “You always feel good~ so good~.”

You ran your hands through his dark hair, holding his mouth against your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He grunted, eyebrows knitting together as you whimpered his name.

Suguru’s fingers dug into your thighs, bucking faster, not intending to stop at all. Instead, he moved faster, making you cry out, tugging on the dark strands as she sucked on, leaving several hickies against your skin. God, he could get used to this. Domestic shit, making dinner, but losing yourselves in grazing touches and kisses on cheeks. Leaving the bell peppers on the cutting board uncut and the steak sitting in the fridge. The corkscrew was still embedded in the unopened bottle of wine as you ground against each other, inching closer and closer to sweet release.

“Suguru~ hah—“ your hands grip his shoulders, holding them tight as he grinds hard, faster, “c-close!”

Somehow, Suguru pulled his lips off your neck, allowing him to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah~ gonna cum, Princess~? Gonna cream your panties~?” You lean in, bringing down his bottom lip as you rock against him, matching his movements and speed.

“Yes~ I-I’m so close!”

“Then do it~ cum for me~” he kisses you deeply as he grinds faster and faster until you both are crying out against moving lips, eyes shut tight as waves of your orgasm wash over you. “Oooh fuck~!”

“Fuuuck~ fuck!” You cry out, feeling your panties grow wetter and wetter. “Oh my god, Sugu~” you pant against his kiss-swollen lips while he lazily nods.

“Yeah, shit.” He grumbles with a moan.

“I need to borrow some boxers or sweats.”

“Yeah? You make a mess?”

He teases you with a peck to your cheek as he gently releases his hold on your legs, helping you off his counter. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“Oh please, you’re as much to blame for this as me.”

Suguru presses another kiss against your cheek. “I’ll take the blame, but I’ll start on dinner if you want to go raid my closet for sweats.” The glimmer in your eyes had your best friend gently flicking your forehead. “Just sweats, none of my hoodies, dork.” That statement had you pouting as Suguru gently slapped your ass, pushing you forward.

“No fair.”

“Life ain’t fair; your notebook is on the dresser if you need to write notes.”

You give him a thumbs up as you head into his room, ignoring the glittery notebook and heading straight for the closet instead. The more often nights like this occurred, the more you didn’t care about taking notes or jotting down ideas. Instead, you find yourself wanting to spend every waking moment with Suguru.

Notebook aside, you stripped out of your clothes, folding them up, before grabbing a pair of his baggy gray sweats as his phone buzzed on his nightstand. Glancing down at the screen, you resisted the urge to gag as you saw Manami’s name appear.

“Eeew, Sugu, the troll you call an agent, is texting you!” You grab his phone, unlocking it as you return to the kitchen. The sound of chopped vegetables echoed off the walls as Suguru looked up at you. “Want me to read you what she said?”

“Yeah, it’s probably about this client she found.”

Opening the chat, you pull out the barstools at his breakfast bar before him and clear your throat. “Geto, the new client, loved the sketch you submitted, and he would like to proceed with the next steps for the painting to be done. He has paid in advance.” Suguru did a little fist bump before he slid the peppers into a sizzling pan. “I also wanted to discuss the offer from the Amanai Foundation. They will pay for our room and board for the four months we’ll be in Okinawa finishing the aquarium piece.”

The spatula falls from his hand as he turns to you, staring into your wide eyes and pale complexion staring at the phone. You blankly stare at the message as big tears form in your eyes. Suguru watchI in horror as tears stream down your cheeks.

“What does she mean you two are going to Okinawa for four months together?”

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fairyhaos · 1 year ago

Text

how seventeen act with their lawyer s/o

requested by anon ^^

masterlist

seungcheol, joshua, wonwoo, minghao

sometimes, he comes home from work and he's exhausted because it's 3 in the morning and he's had dance practice for the past 5 hours but you're still up, sitting at the dining table with your laptop and notes spread around you. and he may be tired, but he pulls up a chair next to you and says he'll help with whatever you need. you'll push him away, softly telling him to go to bed, but he shakes his head, puts on his glasses and leans over your laptop to look at what you're researching this time. after all, he's never really too tired for you, and he knows how draining your cases can be. he's aware of client confidentiality, but he tells you that you can vent to him whenever you want, runs his fingers through your hair as you lay in his lap and rant vaguely about how frustrating your newest case is, and smiles and kisses your nose and tells you he has the greatest faith in you, and if you need him, he'll always be right by your side

jeonghan, mingyu, seungkwan, chan

the Most proud in the entire world, like. this man never shuts up about it. the day you pass the bar exam (with flying colours, might he add), it's all he talks about for a solid two weeks after, somehow managing to bring it up in every conversation he has with anyone. "oh you're drinking water, vernon? well guess what, my LAWYER s/o who's a LAWYER also drinks water. did i mention they're a LAWYER?". is bouncing about with the biggest, proudest grin on his face. sends you off to your first day at work as a Whole Actual Lawyer like a mother would send their child off to their first day at school. clucks over you and fussed over your clothes and presses one last kiss to your head before beaming widely and waving you off, and he swears he's never been prouder

junhui, hoshi, woozi, dokyeom, vernon

simply… fascinated. he sometimes asks if you can explain what you do to him, and you've told him time and time again that you take part in corporate law so everything is really fucking boring, but he just shakes his head and smiles and says he wants to hear it anyway. his eyes might glaze over as you're explaining ADRs to him but he still thinks you're so, so incredible for doing something like this. tries to do his own casual studying of law, purely so he can try and understand what stuff you're doing this time, throwing you random law questions across the dining table while you're having dinner together. he's the sweetest about it, and even when he's busy he makes sure to text you when you're at work, sending you off with a kiss when you have a trial coming up, giving you massages when you're at your most stressed, and just being the most supportive bf ever

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s1ater · 1 year ago

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lorenzo’s luck.

pairings. mobster!slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. in which it’s been a rough couple of weeks and lorenzo is facing the heat of it all.

warnings. swearing, a beating,

ricky rocks. okay, new idea sense i’ve been watching the sopranos lately and writing generic slytherin boys is getting boring for me rn… also i’ve been seeing some stuff abt lorenzo on tiktok and even something on here and i think i characterized him totally wrong? but also not because i read the book (but not really) he originally came from and he didn’t seem as sweet and innocent as people play him as. idk, i’ll stick to what i have now but lmk what y’all think ig

everything and everyone was on edge.

for the past two weeks the feds had been down your neck, jeopardizing your whole lifestyle and way of work.

everyone was in a pissy mood because of it—because when the feds were on your ass, that meant having to be careful, and your job was hard thing to be careful about when every move you made was highly incriminating. so when being careful, you barely got to work, and no work meant no profit.

it was hard to specify exactly what you did.

you were a mobster.

there it is, in the simplest form.

there was a lot of pressure in being one, especially when law enforcement was there to make things ten times harder.

and it wasn’t only affecting you, but entirety of your group;

“you’re a fuckin’ idiot, lorenzo, you realize that? take a fuckin’ look at yourself in the mirror and stare at something that isn’t just your face and realize you’re a fool,” mattheo’s voice erupts so suddenly through the air, startling all of you. “get your shit together.”

it was already starting. you, theodore, blaise, lorenzo, and mattheo had just barely taken a step into one of the many backrooms of the businesses mattheo’s father owned when the composure came fumbling down.

lorenzo had just barely sat his ass in one of the leather seats when the attention was pinned to him, “jesus, what’s up you’re ass m?” he laughs, but you can tell it’s a nervous one. “jesus.”

you glance to theodore who winces at the response like it was his own. that was the worst possible thing to say, especially to mattheo, especially right now where his anger and frustration was at an all time high.

you can see that anger pulse through his skin in a spike as he finally seems to processes lorenzo’s antagonizing words.

oh boy.

“fuckin’ saved your ass, enzo. you know what my fathers saying? that you’re a loose fucking cannon and i need to let you go,” he has his hand raised, shaking it in his face. “and you know what? we don’t let people go. there’s no such thing as letting someone go in our business. that’s a rare ever occurrence.”

letting someone go is disposing them. taking them out to the back and putting them down like a dog.

“get your head on straight and don’t you forget that you wouldn’t be here without me, because you’d be dead.”

“you act like you’re so fucking clear minded,” he huffs, leaning his head against the palm of hand.

that was enough.

mattheo swings himself around, throwing his fist into the face of enzo as hard as he can. you flinch at the sound of enzo’s nose cracking beneath the contact of mattheo's knuckles. you feel yourself tense up at the noise not letting up, but rather playing over and over, filling the room with ugly sounds of punches fill the room.

“mattheo-“

your call out is cut off as theodore takes your shoulder, pulling you back, “don’t.”

“he’s going to kill him.”

“he won’t,” he pulls you even closer and further away from the violent scene unfolding before you all, tightening his grip. “lorenzo’s too viable.”

he was right. even as enzo was a loose canon, he brought in a lot of profit and kept his end clean… for the most part.

lo was too salient for mattheo to kill, but his loud mouth was enough to tip mattheo over the edge.

it was a perfect way for him to blow off steam; beating in the face of his friend.

***

“don’t you look like a dime.”

it’s been a week since mattheo went on his little rampage, and you were now just seeing lorenzo in his healing state.

you’re smiling up at him, pinching his cheek as he rolls his eyes to your attention, “yeah, yeah, get off my back.”

he looked far from a dime; his nose was broken causing both his eyes to sport dark rings of bruising around them while the lining of his jaw was turning a dark purple and yellow.

“you and mattheo civil now?”

“define your idea of civil.”

“well, you’re not dead, so I assume you two are as civil as civil gets in mattheo’s terms.”

he scoffs, “yeah, well, let’s hope mattheo and his father are on the same page and I don’t end up dead in the next week.”

over a month ago, some of lorenzo’s boys hijacked a truck everyone was told specifically not to mess with despite the fair amount of profit that could come from it. and unfortunately, they dug themselves an already deep hole, deeper by obtaining the truck through a casualty.

lorenzo had received the blame, despite it having nothing to do with him other than the men being under his supervision and responsibility. he had to pay for it, and he did…

“you’re on the higher end of things, he won’t kill you.”

“that’d be the exact reason for him to kill me,” lorenzo corrects you. “I’m on the higher end for a reason, i can’t fuck up.”

you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of his words. mattheo’s beating must’ve really enlightened lorenzo because there was rarely ever a moment you caught him in such a grave mood where he was so in touch with reality.

his attitude on life was light and so unserious; you were unsure on how mattheo even recruited him when that was the exact opposite that this job sought out for. but then again, the boy recruited all of you.

“then don’t fuck up,” he laughs lightly, but it’s caught in the back of his throat. “again.”

“great advice, y/l/n,” he glances at you, “really got that one on the nose.”

“don’t be a douche,” you slap him lightly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, lo. you’re alive, you’ll stay that way too as long as you don’t press your luck.”

“hard to press my luck when I don’t have any in the first place.”

you gaze at the side of his face, attempting to gage the general emotion or even thought process going through his head, but there was nothing. not even his usual perma-smile could be found.

***

“someone approached me awhile ago-“

“who?”

“doesn’t matter who—a clients girlfriend,” lorenzo is anxious, pacing back and forth before all of you in the backyard of mattheo’s home. “i was offered a deal.”

you wince immediately.

lorenzo had collected the whole lot of you; everyone except mattheo. you all sat on his back deck, fixating between the full beautiful greenery backyard of the riddle home and lorenzo, who hadn't spoken till now.

a deal.

he should’ve stopped there.

“a deal?” blaise arched a brow, now leaning on his forearms that rest on his knees. “what kind of deal?”

you all knew exactly what type of deal it was.

enzo’s eyes don’t reach any yours, but he’s stopped pacing, wondering whether he should really speak it now.

don’t say it.

“immunity,” he says it flat out, bringing truth to all of your thoughts. but he doesn’t seem ashamed to this with the way he looks at each and every one of you in the eye finally. “she said once we all get impounded, there’s a way out for me.”

once. not if.

“i tell them everything. i rat every single one of you out and i’m given immunity.”

you all look up at him like he’s crazy. and he is; to be speaking like this to a bunch of mobsters—threatening the entirety of their life and business is crazy.

“we get thirty years plus. there’s no doubt. they get us and we’re already laid in our graves before trial because what we’ve done is absurd-“

“are you saying you’re a rat, berkshire?”

“no,” he shakes his head fast. “no, not at all.”

“that’s not what i’m hearing,” draco shakes his head. “i’m hearing you’re getting nervous with all this recent snooping of the feds and you’re fuckin’ rat.”

“fuck off, malfoy. i’m just telling you what i was told. i’m not a goddamn rat. i’d have to be mental to give up all we’ve done-“ his hand finds his forehead and he’s pacing again. “fuck if i even remember half of it.”

you’re all back to silence, thinking about this. rat or not, this did not look good for him.

your eyes suddenly settle on the light and distant bruising under enzo’s eyes; finally healing. you think about mattheo beating in his face over and over, and then you think about what he’d do if he ever found out about lorenzo’s offer.

“they have a lot of shit on mattheo.”

you all look back up to lorenzo now, a certain interest now crossing each of you again.

“what type of shit exactly?”

“type of shit you don’t get parole with… or out of jail for that matter,” he looks even more stressed than before. “she said the rest of you could have chances of a life after serving. not him.”

this wasn’t a surprise. mattheo always had a quality that none of you did when it came to getting things done; something sociopathic. he always took risk without question of consequence. he moved in silence, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, he always got things done faster than all of you combined.

so if mattheo did something beyond all of your usual tasks, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“i mean that makes sense, matty’s been at this longer than the rest of us,” you reasoned it out, only to be stopped immediately.

“no, you don’t understand,” enzo shook his head.

“what exactly are we not understanding here, enzo? you seem to know something, so why don’t you just spit it out,” theodore sits up, speaking for once. there’s obvious annoyance and distaste in his mouth as he stares at the boy before you with a narrowed look.

lorenzo pauses, looking back at him with the same look. you can tell there’s a thought process behind his eyes, and his anxiousness is slowly melting away.

“you know, where do you guys think this is all going? genuinely. you think we’re going to spend the next couple of months running clubs, collecting money, and beating up the occasional person that’s late on their payments for fun?” lorenzo has turned sour, looking at each of you almost as if he hates you all for your ignorance. “this is for life, and we’re only at the beginning point.”

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lionizingheathen · 2 years ago

Note

OK NOW I CANT STOP THINKING OF REMUS ACTUALLY LETTING SIRIUS (plus james maybe) HAVE A GO WHILE WATCHING HHHNGGGF??!??

I can do that (Warning that I've never written anything like this so I deeply apologize if it's not what you're looking for)

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x James Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, multiple orgasms, watching, choking, slapping, throatfucking, degredation, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex male receiving, hair pulling, multiple partners

Remus had you stripped naked before they even arrived, laying you across the bed. That'd been hot enough, but seeing the way that Sirius and James looked at you, like they wanted to swallow you whole... God, it was so much.

"Are you 100% sure about this mate?" James asked, and Remus nodded, placing a soft hand on your cheek to make you look over at him with a crooked eyebrow. God, you wanted to rile him up, see exactly what he would do when put in the right circumstances.

"Yeah, it's not a problem. She likes to put on a show, isn't that right?" He asked softly, and you nodded, chewing on your lip. You'd do anything that he asked you to do.

"Yes..." You responded, and James bent a little bit, clearing his throat. You didn't care, you were too busy daydreaming about what was going to happen.

"Hey. Y/N." James said, and you lifted your head, looking up at him. He placed a hand under your chin, rubbing a thumb across your cheek, making you shiver.

"Yeah?"

"Are you 100% sure that you wanna do this?" James asked, looking you in the eyes. You smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. He'd always been so gentle, it would be fun to watch him lose control.

"Yeah, because if you don't, James and I would be happy to just stay and like... watch one of your muggle movie things." Sirius offered, and your smile only grew as you shook your head. God, Remus had picked such good friends.

"No, I want this too... but it was sweet of you to ask me." You said, and he nodded.

"Wouldn't wanna do this if you weren't 100% okay with it." That was such a kind thing to make sure of... granted, it was also customary, or at least you felt it should be, to ask beforehand.

"Oh, I am."

"You're up, Potter." Remus said, pushing him forward. James took a deep breath and nodded, giving you a smile.

"Okay..." You got up on your knees, placing a hand on his face, feeling his hands come up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples.

"What do you want, Jamie?" You asked, and he swallowed heavily before answering.

"Can you suck me off? I've been thinking about how good that would feel for years." He said, and you flicked your eyebrow up, giving him a smirk as you pushed him away a bit before letting yourself fall to the ground onto your knees.

"You want my lips wrapped around your cock, Potter?" You asked, and he nodded frantically, unbuttoning and pulling his pants down, letting his cock spring out. You swallowed back a groan as you wrapped your hand around it. He was about as thick as Remus, but a little bit longer which was daunting... but a challenge you would gladly welcome.

"Yes." He groaned, and you grinned up at him, leaning in.

"Good boy." You flicked your tongue across his tip, groaning to yourself at the taste, feeling him tense. "He tastes so good." You moaned before taking him into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could, letting him gently lead your head until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. HIs head was leaning back and you watched as his chest rose and fell quickly.

"Holy shit... Ohmygod her mouth is so fucking hot..." He moaned, pulling his hips back to gently snap them forward again, making you gag around him. He moved a little faster, but not too hard, clearly afraid of hurting you... which was a shame because you wanted to see him go feral.

"Calm down, mate. Don't get too excited, you'll never last." Remus said with a chuckle, and James let out a high whine as he glanced down at you, his mouth dropped open. You clenched your thighs together, trying to reduce some of the throbbing there, but it did nothing.

"Shut up..." You bobbed your head up and down, letting your fingers slip between your thighs to rub at your clit, making you moan around him. "Fuck." He whined, and you felt your face get hot. God, he was so fucking hot.

"You can fuck her throat, James. She likes it rough." Remus cleared his throat, clearly trying to get your attention. "How do you feel about that, baby?" He asked, and you pulled off, breathing heavily as you looked up at James, jerking your hand quickly up and down his cock, making him tremble.

"Please, James. Fuck my throat raw." You begged, and he looked down at you, his gaze softening for a moment.

"Are you sure?" He asked, and you rolled your eyes. The cute, respectful side was getting a bit overplayed, you just wanted him to take some goddamn control.

"Stop asking that and just fucking do it. Go with your gut, Potter. I know how to stop a man if needed." You said, and he chewed on his lip, nodding as he pulled you back onto his cock. You swallowed around him eagerly, letting him fuck your throat as hard as he wanted to. He let out a loud grumbling moan as he gripped your hair.

"Fuck... God, Remus you get this every night?" Sirius asked, and you blushed as you felt James fuck harder into your throat. He was so eager... you knew he would be, you knew how doting he was on Lily, there was no way he wasn't like this.

"Every night... every morning... pretty much whenever I want she's willing to get on her knees for me... or do pretty much anything else." Remus murmured back and you felt your cunt clench at this. You liked when talked that way about you. Sirius groaned in approval and you felt his eyes on you once again.

"Lucky bastard." He murmured, and Remus let out a throaty chuckle, undoubtably with the biggest smirk on his face.

"Should've acted quicker in seventh year. Could've had her at least once." He responded, and you whimpered around James's cock, gripping onto his thighs as he paused, buried in your thoat, making your eyes tear up around him.

"Shut up."

"Oh my god, fuck I'm getting close." James cried, and Remus let out a snort.

"Seriously? Already? Fuck, you finish fast." He said, and James whimpered, shaking his head as he strained, the veins in his neck popping out for a moment as he increased his pace.

"Not normally." He let out a high whine, holding your face against his pelvis as he doubled over, gripping the wall behind him. "Oh fuck." He gasped, and you felt him cum down your throat, frantically swallowing around him before you pulled back, giving him a wide smile.

"You taste good, Jamie." You said, getting up from your knees. He pulled you against his chest, tucking your face against him as he held you. It was sweet that that was his first instinct, to hug you tight and murmur quiet praises into your ear, it made your heart squeeze. Truly the best man. Lily was lucky.

"That was amazing. Fucking amazing, Y/N." He sighed, pulling away to give you a wide smile. You placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb across his cheekbone.

"Thank you, sweet boy. You're up Sirius, what do you want?" You asked, watching as he smirked at you, walking over with so much confidence that it made your knees weak.

"Oh, I want your cunt. Bend over on the bed. On your hands and knees." Sirius said, and you dropped immediately, smirking back at him as you did. You followed orders well, the boys were bound to know that by well.

"Yes sir." You said, and he gripped your nips, snorting as he saw your position. What?

"Come on, spread those legs futher for me. I know you can." He said pushing your further open before you felt the head of his cock prod against you, slipping inside a moment later, making you gasp. There was no need for prep, you were dripping already.

"Holy shit..." Your mouth dropped open as you felt him inside you. He was by far the thickest, causing a pleasent burning stretch as he began easing himself inside of you. "Remus, he's so big." You whined, and he let out a chuckle as Sirius continued to stretch you, making you see stars. How was he still going?

"You can take it. You can take anything, baby." Remus said, and you groaned, nodding as you felt Sirius slide the rest of the way inside, making your eyes roll back.

"Yes sir." You sighed, and Remus smirked at you, making you shiver.

"Such a good girl." He replied, and you nodded, chewing on your lip as you furrowed your brows. God, this felt good... Sirius was good, you knew that from conversations in school.

"Fuck, her cunt is so good, Remus. How could you wait so long to let us do this?" Sirius asked as he gripped your hair, yanking hard as he thrusted quickly, pushing the breath out of you each time. Heaven on earth.

"I agree, we should've done this sooner. It's fun to watch her get all fucked out." Remus said, and you felt Sirius's hand slap down hard on your ass, making you yelp. God, this felt so good... so fucking good.

"More... Harder... Please." You begged, and Sirius laughed, reaching forward to push your face against the mattress, pounding into you harder. The new angle made you want to scream, your eyes rolling back in your head as you tangled your fingers into the sheets.

"Look at her, James. She's such a fucking whore." James was practically trembling, his fingers digging into his trousers as he watched you.

"Yeah... she is..." He grunted, and you looked over at him, seeing his cock straining against his pants. You wanted to feel him down your throat again.

"You're hard again, mate." Remus commented, and he shot him a glare.

"I know." You knew what to do, what to ask. He seemed like he could follow directions well.

"Touch yourself for me, Jamie." You begged, and he whimpered, nodding as he shucked his pants down his legs again, gripping at his already leaking cock.

"Shit... okay..." He whined, and you chuckled, a large smile spreading across your face as you felt Sirius's hand smack down on your ass once again.

"He takes orders so well." You gasped, and Remus nodded in the corner, looking pleasantly amused at the exchange, though Sirius beat him to voicing it.

"Guess we know who's in charge in your bed, huh?" Sirius chuckled, and James gave him a look that was supposed to be a glare, but ended up as a pout at best.

"Fuck, shut up!" He groaned, his hand working his cock faster. So pretty.

"Sirius, please, harder!" You begged, and Sirius grunted above you, pushing you harder into the mattress as he increased his pace once again, making your mouth drop open

"Of course, beautiful." He murmured, and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge, knowing you would be screaming within moments. God, this was good.

"I'm... I'm cumming, oh my god I'm cumming!" You cried, and Sirius chuckled, biting down on the skin of the back of your neck, thrusting harder as you saw stars, gripping hard onto the sheets, feeling yourself tremble beneath him.

"Good girl, good girl, cum on my cock, making a fucking mess all over me, fuck yes." Sirius groaned, and you whimpered, unable to come up with a thought, any words you had in mind completely wiped free as he ignored your sensitivity.

"You look so good baby... looks like James is gonna cum again." Remus said, and you looked over at the other man who was jerking his cock frantically, the tip angry and read. You let out a groan as Sirius reached around, wrapping his hand around your throat, tightening his grip quickly.

"Cum on my face, Jamie." You croaked out and he looked at you, completely gone as he stood up, walking closer as he hung his head back, letting out a loud groan.

"Really? Are sure?" He asked, sounding frantic, and you nodded, looking up at him, your mouth hanging open as Sirius used his free hand to rub roughly at your clit.

"Yes! Cum!" You begged, and James looked down, his brows furrowed and his glasses falling down his nose as his hips jerked forward, his cum spurting out to coat your face, making you gasp. You grinned up at him, appreaciating how frantic he was. So cute.

"Holy shit..." He hissed, the last spurt coming out before he fell away, collapsing onto his chair, breathing heavily.

"God, you look good all covered in cum, beautiful." Remus sighed, giving you a large smile. You glanced down at his crotch, seeing his cock straining against his pants. It forced you over the edge once again, seeing how badly Remus wanted you. God, he was going to ruin you after this.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum again! Oh my god, oh my god!" You cried, your lip trembling as you collapsed flat against the bed, feeling Sirius grip your hips as you let out high moans with each hard thrust, your eyes rolling back in your head. You heard Remus let out a throaty chuckle from across the room, making your face flush.

"Still screaming after having your throat fucked raw... You really do love this, huh baby?" Remus asked, leaning forward. You nodded frantically, feeling a pleasant buzz over your body as Sirius thrusted frantically inside of you, getting closer to the edge himself.

"Yes! I love it, love being used." You cried, and Sirius groaned behind you, spanking your ass hard once again, making you gasp.

"Holy shit I'm getting close." He gripped under your chin, bending over you so you could see his face. He was straining, chewing on his lip as he looked down at you. So hot. "Where do you want me to finish?" He asked, and your brain went blank. Anywhere he wanted. You would take whatever the fuck he was willing to give you.

"I... I..." He rolled his eyes, shoving you back down onto the table as he thrust hard and fast into you again, addressing Remus as though you weren't even there.

"Remus, where do you want me to-." He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Remus was talking.

"Cum inside her, she fucking loves it." He said, and you nodded, feeling him still inside of you, gripping hard onto your hips as he filled you with his cum, making you tremble.

"Shit... Fuck! Take it, fucking take it." He groaned, pausing for a moment before he pulled out, both of you panting before you gave him a smile.

"God, Sirius... that was so good." You sighed, sitting up to walk over to Remus, resting your chin on top of his head, wrapping your arms around him. He placed his hands onto your arms, making your heart skip.

"Yeah it was... fuck, I gotta bring Lily next time." James looked at you almost nervously as he shifted around on his feet. "Would you want that?" He asked, and you nodded quickly. You'd wanted to be fucked by Lily for years.

"Fuck yes, that sounds amazing."

"I just know she'd love to cum on your face." James responded, and your heart pounded at the thought of that. Lily Potter had to taste like a goddamn dream.

"Sounds perfect." You said, and Remus stood up, stretching.

"Until next time, boys." He said, nodding at them to show themselves out before he turned to you with a large smile. "You were wonderful, dear." Remus said, and you pressed your hand to the front of his trousers, pressing frantic kisses to the side of his neck, making him let out a quiet grunt.

"You're hard." You murmured against his skin, and he sighed, pulling you back from his neck so he could look down into your face.

"I just watched you be fucked for an hour straight... Yeah. I am. Get on your knees." He instructed, and you let him guide you down before you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them quickly down his thighs

"Yes sir." You gripped his cock, leaning forward to lick the tip of his cock.

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