#'it is! oh I loved their stuff before! follow!'

[daryltwdixon]

I want to give Joel Miller a lap dance. Feel his hands all over my body as I grind into him and he moans my name. He'll be begging to be inside me and I'll finally give in and ride him until he fills me up with his cum. That's it. That's the request. (Jesus, it's suddenly hot in here, huh?)

Joel x Reader Happy Birthday

warnings: straight smut MDNI

I listened to I See Red by Everybody Loves an Outlaw while writing

a/n: oh, anon. you did something to me here. I've been thinking about it all day. I took it in a slightly different direction but anyway. another note: I am not the kinda woman who gives lap dances, so this could actually be terrible. enjoy x

It started with the heels. Those fucking heels. You couldn’t say no to them. They were just sitting there on a shelf in the middle of a patrol gone sideways, taunting you.

A rainstorm had hit mid-September in Wyoming, and you and your patrol partner had taken refuge in an old strip mall. The clothing store you holed up in was mostly picked over, but there were still odds and ends for the community back in Jackson—stuff to stock the closet for kids and newcomers.

And then there were the heels. Black, shiny, the kind of tall that bordered on dangerous. They might’ve been ridiculous for patrol, but god, you’d always loved how they looked in those pre-outbreak magazines. The kind of shoes that made women look powerful and untouchable. So, with a “fuck it” shrug, you’d stuffed them into your backpack and thought, Joel’s birthday is coming up anyway.

The idea had snowballed from there. You’d scavenged through the library’s dusty stock of CDs and hit the jackpot: the perfect song. The rest fell into place, one piece at a time, until tonight. Now here you were, standing in front of the mirror, nerves simmering under the surface as you took in your reflection.

The heels did exactly what you’d imagined, making your legs look miles long. The black lace panties you’d picked weren’t the practical kind you usually wore—these were high-cut, with delicate details that felt scandalous against your skin. The bralette matched, sheer enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination, with just enough wire to push your breasts up like a dare. You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly.

To steady yourself, you grabbed one of Joel’s plaid shirts from the bed and slipped it on. The soft, worn fabric still smelled like him—earthy, warm, familiar. The contrast between the shirt and what was underneath made your pulse quicken. It was the anticipation, the audacity of what you were about to do, that left you breathless.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you moved to the living area. Dragging one of the armless chairs from the kitchen table, you placed it squarely in the middle of the room. The boombox was already prepped, the song queued up and ready. With one last deep breath, you perched on the chair and waited.

Waited for Joel to walk through the door.

Joel trudged up the porch steps, every bone in his body aching from patrol. It had been a long one, the kind that left him bone-weary and ready to drop. He pushed the door open, boots heavy against the floor as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“Hey,” he called over his shoulder, voice low and gruff, more out of habit than effort. He didn’t look up, his focus on loosening the laces of his boots, mind already wandering to the promise of a hot shower and a quiet night.

“Happy birthday, handsome.”

Your voice stopped him mid-motion. Warm, teasing, the kind of sound that made him glance up without thinking. He froze, the boot in his hand forgotten as his brain struggled to catch up with what he was seeing.

You were sitting in the middle of the living room, legs crossed like you had all the time in the world. And yet it wasn’t just you sitting there—it was everything else. The heels. The shirt—his shirt—hanging loose over your frame, barely buttoned, leaving enough undone to make his pulse stutter. His eyes followed the long line of your legs, the curve of your thighs, and those damn heels. Shiny, black and undeniably sexy. And then his eyes trailed up, stopping at the curve of her neck, her collarbones, the delicate lace peeking through.

Joel’s throat went dry. He blinked once, then again, like maybe he was seeing things. But no, you were real. You were there. And goddamn, you looked like that.

“What...what’s all this, baby?” he managed, his voice rougher than usual, the words scraping out like he barely had the strength to speak.

You tilted your head, playful and soft all at once, and he hated how it made him feel—off-kilter, like you had all the control in the room. “I told you,” you said, your voice light, teasing but edged with something else. “Happy birthday.”

Joel’s gaze stayed locked on you, his boots still half-off, his body halfway between exhaustion and something else entirely. He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “Darlin’, you didn’t have to do all this.” His voice was low, a teasing edge there, but the heat behind his words was undeniable.

You felt your stomach flip, but you held your ground, stepping closer to him until your hands rested gently on his chest. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his shirt, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you even as your own felt unsteady.

“I know,” you murmured, your tone soft but steady. “But I wanted to. And you deserve it.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, his hands instinctively finding your hips, rough fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt draped over you. “You sure about that? ‘Cause all I’m thinkin’ is takin’ you straight to our room and thankin’ you proper.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, but you held firm, giving his chest a gentle push. “Not yet,” you said, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Sit down,.”

He raised a brow, his grip on your hips tightening just enough to let you know he wasn’t fully on board. “Darlin’, I’m not exactly in the mood to—”

You pressed your palms more firmly against him, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sit, Joel.”

The quiet authority in your tone made his resistance falter. He let out a low chuckle, more breath than sound, and leaned back, allowing you to guide him into the chair. His knees spread as he settled in, his arms resting loosely on his thighs, but his eyes never left you.

“One rule,” you said softly, holding up a finger. You sauntered over to the boombox that had been waiting on the side table, taking your finger and hovering over ‘play’. 

“No touching.”

And then the music started.

Your heart was in your throat by now, pounding in time with the heavy thrum of anticipation in your veins. Each deliberate sway of your hips felt like a challenge, and Joel’s eyes tracked every movement as you took slow, pointed steps toward him.

When you reached him, you placed your hands on his knees, leaning down just enough to let the hem of his plaid shirt ride up slightly. You arched your back, pushing your hips out and rolling them in a way that made the lace of your bra peek tantalizingly through the gap in the shirt. His eyes were locked on you, dark and intent, and when you glanced up, you caught him biting his lip, his gaze riveted to the skin you’d left exposed, as though he was imagining how it might feel under his hands.

With every movement, you swung your hips, each roll precise and deliberate. Your hands slid up to your hair, combing through it as you turned your back on him, walking a few slow, teasing steps away. Your hips dipped low with each step, your movements fluid, your intention clear. When you turned back to face him, your fingers found the buttons of his shirt still hanging off your shoulders. You began to undo them one by one, each step bringing you closer to him until the last button came undone.

The shirt slid from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You kicked it aside, standing before him in nothing but the black lace he was now openly staring at. Joel’s pupils had blown wide, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained tension. He leaned back in the chair, his arms locking behind his head, biceps flexing as though he was physically restraining himself from reaching out. For now, at least, he seemed willing to play along with your game.

Turning around, you hovered just above his lap, bending forward as you rolled your hips, letting your ass dip and brush teasingly against his legs. Your hands trailed over your own body, mapping the curve of your waist and hips as you moved. The heat of his gaze burned into your skin, and you smiled to yourself before finally lowering onto his lap, spreading your legs as you settled against him.

You leaned back slightly, letting your ass press firmly against him, and you felt it—the undeniable hardness straining against his jeans. Your heart quickened, and a teasing smile curved your lips as you glanced over your shoulder at him. His jaw was tight, his teeth clenched, his dark eyes fixed on the way you moved against him.

Joel let out a low, guttural sound as you bent forward, tracing your hands along the floor, your body folding in half over him. His hips bucked up against you then, a reflex he couldn’t seem to control, and you smirked, slipping to the floor and crawling forward on your knees until you turned to face him.

Sliding your hands onto his knees, your eyes met his as he finally spoke, his voice rough, edged with tension. “Oh, so you can touch me, huh?”

“Obviously,” you murmured, the smirk on your lips daring him as your hands trailed up his thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath, his arms still locked behind his head as though anchoring himself, but his hips twitched up toward your touch. Your hands slid higher, over his chest, as you pulled yourself back into his lap, facing him chest to chest.

Your hands slid to your hips as you rolled against him, each movement slow, deliberate, and purposeful. You thought of all the ways he’d gone crazy for you before, the rhythm that always left him undone when you rode his cock, and you worked it now with an extra swivel, a teasing twist to your hips.

“You’re a nasty little thing, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly, like he was speaking through clenched teeth. His eyes zeroed in on the straps of your bra as they slid down your shoulders with every roll of your body. The hunger in his gaze made your stomach flip, and you could almost feel the weight of his restraint, like he was moments away from tearing the lace off you with his teeth.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you ground harder against him, unable to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs or the way your body clenched around nothing. You pushed against his denim-clad hard-on, slow and deliberate, and watched as his eyes squeezed shut, his head tipping back as though he was holding on by a thread.

Sliding your hands up to his neck and then down to flatten against his chest, you leaned closer, wanting to kiss him so fucking bad, but keeping yourself away. If you kissed him, your resistance would falter, and there’d be no going back.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his head tipping back slightly, his neck arching into your touch as though chasing the warmth of your hands. His breath was shallow now, his chest rising and falling beneath your palms as the tension between you thickened, taut and electric.

You barely catch him breathing your name, a whimper, before he was begging, “Please,”

“Please what, Joel?” you whispered back, teasing, even though your own restraint was slipping. You stood then, turning away from him slowly, your hips swaying in time with his ragged breaths. Bending over, you slid your fingers to the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them just enough to reveal a hint of bare skin, only to let them snap back into place.

His head snapped up, his eyes glued to your hands. “I need—” His voice broke, and he dragged his hands down his thighs, rubbing them as though desperate to release some of the tension coiling in his body. “I need to feel you, baby. Please.”

You looked over your shoulder, your lips curling into a soft smile. “Not yet,” you said, your voice low and teasing as you turned back toward him. You lowered yourself into his lap again, back to his chest and your movements slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of contact as you rolled against him.

Joel groaned again, the sound rough and primal, his hands still locked behind his head as though holding onto the last shred of control. You pressed harder against him, rolling your hips deliberately, savoring the friction of his rock hard cock beneath you. The sensation sent a jolt straight through you, and before you could stop yourself, a soft, breathless moan slipped from your lips.

That was all it took.

Joel’s restraint snapped. His arms moved like lightning, one snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other slid up, his large, calloused hand curling around the side of your neck. His grip wasn’t tight, just firm enough to hold you in place, to make you feel completely surrounded by him.

“Breakin’ your own rules, huh?” His voice was a low rasp in your ear, thick with desire and edged with the kind of authority that made heat flood through your entire body. His scruff brushed against the curve of your jaw, tickling and scraping in a way that sent sparks down your spine, every nerve alight. “Makin’ all those damn rules and can’t even follow ‘em yourself.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine as his lips barely grazed the shell of your ear. “You want me to be patient,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “but here you are, grindin’ on me, moanin’ like you’re beggin’ me to lose control.”

Your breath hitched, your hands instinctively flying to his forearm where it rested against your neck. His grip didn’t falter, holding you there as his hips shifted beneath you, just enough to press his hardness firmly against your core. The sound that escaped your lips this time was a mix of surprise and need, and it only made his hold tighten.

“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing your ear again, the rasp of his voice sending waves of heat through you. “That’s what you do to me, baby. You keep teasin’ me, and I’m gonna give you exactly what you’re askin’ for.”

Before you could respond, his grip on your neck shifted slightly, firm but careful, his other hand trailing up from your waist. “Now let’s see what you’ve been hidin’ from me here, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous in your ear.

His fingers found the lace of your bra, tugging it down until your breasts spilled free. The sound that rumbled from his chest was almost feral, a deep growl that made heat pool low in your belly. He cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the warmth of his palm making you arch into his touch. His thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you before he pinched and rolled it between his fingers.

You gasped, your back arching further into him, but he wasn’t done. He brought the same hand to your other breast, the calloused pads of his fingers rough against your sensitive skin. He squeezed gently, then let his palm deliver a quick, stinging slap that made you jolt in his lap.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The sting melted into warmth, the sensation sharp and thrilling, and you couldn’t help but roll your hips harder against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s lips found the side of your neck, brushing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with need as his hands continued to explore you, alternating between firm, teasing squeezes and sharp, delicious slaps. “Let me hear those pretty noises. Don’t hold back now.”

The way he rolled and teased your nipples made your head tip back against his shoulder, a soft moan spilling from your lips as his mouth found the curve of your neck. His teeth scraped lightly against your skin, making your nerves spark, your hips bucking in his lap.

“You’re so damn sensitive,” he rasped against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His hands trailed lower, brushing over your ribs, fingertips grazing your stomach as they worked their way to the waistband of your panties. “Been drivin’ me crazy all night, wearin’ this...all for me, huh?”

You could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a plea. Joel chuckled low in your ear, the sound rough and teasing, as he hooked his thumbs under the delicate lace and tugged it downward, inch by inch, exposing you to the cool air and his burning gaze.

“Use your words pretty girl,” he muttered, his voice full of reverence and something darker, more primal. He shifted beneath you, one hand returning to your waist to hold you steady as the other worked the panties down past your thighs.

“All yours, Joel. I’m yours.” you breathed, hips rolling as his hands worked the fabric slip past your knees, pooling on the floor as his hands returned to your bare skin. He traced the curve of your thighs and pulled them open wider across his lap. The heat of him pressed against your core, and the rough denim only heightened the aching need coursing through you.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you gripped his forearms, trying to steady yourself.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his hands steady and warm as they explored the newly exposed skin. His fingers slid up your inner thighs, deliberate and slow, brushing so close to where you needed him most but never quite touching. The tease was unbearable, your hips shifting instinctively to chase his touch.

“Not so fast,” he growled, his grip tightening on your thighs to hold you still. “You wanted to take your time, didn’t you? You’re gonna sit here and feel every second of this.”

His words made your breath hitch, the commanding edge in his voice sending another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. His hands trailed higher, his fingertips brushing just shy of your center, so close you could feel the heat of his touch but not the pressure you craved.

“Please,” you whimpered, arching back against him, your body practically trembling in his grasp.

“Patience, darlin’,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear again, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Gonna make sure you feel all of it.”

Joel’s hands finally slid higher, his rough fingertips ghosting over the slick heat between your thighs. The barest touch sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching into him, desperate for more. He hummed low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as his lips brushed over your skin.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper. His fingers parted your lips slowly, exploring with a deliberate tenderness that made all the breath in your lungs tighten. “Could feel this pussy on me the whole time. Makin’ a mess of me.”

You whimpered, your hands gripping his forearms as his touch grew more confident, circling your most sensitive spot with slow, teasing precision. The pressure was just enough to send sparks shooting through you, your hips rocking into his hand as your breath hitched.

“Easy now, baby” he growled, his other arm tightening around your waist to hold you steady against him. “Daddy’s gon’ take good care of ya.”

He pressed a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, his thick, calloused touch stretching you just enough to make your head fall back against his shoulder. A low moan escaped your lips, your body trembling as he began to move, each stroke deliberate and unhurried.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice full of awe as he watched the way you writhed in his lap. “So beautiful, baby. You feel how good you’re takin’ me?”

You nodded, your words lost to the pleasure building deep inside you. He added another finger, the stretch making your toes curl as his pace quickened just slightly. His thumb brushed against your clit with every stroke, drawing a strangled moan from your throat as the tension in your belly coiled tighter.

Joel’s lips found the shell of your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “Let go, darlin’. Let me feel this pretty pussy,”

His words sent you over the edge, the pressure finally snapping as your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing through you. You cried out his name, your hands clutching at his arms as he worked you through it, his fingers moving steadily, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until you were left trembling in his lap, boneless and breathless.

He finally slowed, his movements gentle as he eased his fingers from you, his arm still holding you close. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his voice softer now but no less heated. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone full of pride and affection.

Joel’s lips lingered on your neck, his breath still warm against your skin as his hand slid back to your waist, grounding you. The tension between you was electric, your body still trembling in the aftermath of his touch, but the need hadn’t faded—it had only sharpened.

You shifted in his lap, the friction of his jeans against your sensitive skin making you gasp softly. His grip tightened on your hips, steadying you as his lips brushed your ear. “What’re you doin’, darlin’?” he murmured, though his voice was rough, and his hips twitched up into you despite the question.

You turned slightly, your lips curling into a teasing smile as you met his dark, hungry gaze. “Taking care of you now,” you whispered, your hands finding his chest as you pushed yourself upright.

Joel’s eyes followed your every movement as you reached for the button of his jeans, your fingers working with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his jaw clenched and his chest heaved beneath your touch. When you finally slid the zipper down, the strained fabric gave way, and you couldn’t help the way you always were caught by surprise as his thick hardness sprang free, hot and heavy in your hand.

He groaned low in his throat as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke that had his head tipping back against the chair. “Christ,” he muttered, his hands gripping your thighs, his voice rough and unsteady. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

You smiled, a mix of nerves and confidence swirling in your chest as you lifted yourself onto your knees, positioning yourself over him. His hands moved instinctively to your hips, guiding you, steadying you as you lined yourself up. The heat of him pressed against you, and you bit your lip, slowly sinking down until he filled you completely. You’d never get used to his size, the sheer stretch of him.

Both of you let out matching groans, the sensation overwhelming as you adjusted to him. Joel’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm but reverent, as though he was trying to hold himself back from taking every inch he wanted.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his voice low and wrecked. “Always so fuckin’ good for me. So tight.”

You braced your hands on his chest, your breath hitching as you began to move. Slowly at first, rocking your hips in a rhythm that had his fingers digging into your skin. The way he stretched and filled you sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that spilled from your lips.

Joel’s eyes were locked on you, dark and intense as he watched every roll of your hips. You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Feel good, daddy?”

“Fuck yes,” he growled, his hips bucking up to meet your movements. “Don’t stop, baby. Don’t you fuckin’ stop.”

You didn’t. You rode him harder, the friction and fullness building to a crescendo that had your breath coming in ragged gasps. Joel was unraveling beneath you, his groans and growls spurring you on as you chased the pleasure coiling tight in your belly.

His hands slid from your hips, one trailing up your back to steady you, while the other moved with purpose, his palm curling around the side of your neck. The pressure was firm, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make your breath catch, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, making you clench around him.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your movements faltering for just a moment before the delicious contrast between his grip and the fullness of him inside you pushed you further. Joel’s dark eyes burned into yours, his expression one of pure control, his lips curling in a low growl.

“You like that, huh?” he rasped, his voice rough and commanding as his thumb brushed lightly over your throat. “Your pussy sure seems to like it, hunny–clenching around me like a fuckin’ vice with my hand around your pretty throat.”

You whimpered, nodding as the tension in your body coiled tighter. His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of his strength, enough to make you feel completely at his mercy.

“That’s it,” Joel murmured, his hips bucking up into you as you moved faster, harder, chasing the fire building between you. “Take what you need, baby. Let me hear you.”

The intensity of his hand on your neck, the way he filled you completely with every thrust, and the heat of his gaze locking you in place—all of it came together in a rush of overwhelming pleasure. The tension snapped, and you cried out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

Joel groaned, his own release hitting him as your body clenched around him. His hand remained on your neck, holding you steady as his other hand gripped your hip, anchoring you to him. His voice was low and broken as he growled your name, his body shuddering beneath yours.

As the last tremors faded, his grip softened, the hand around your neck sliding up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed tenderly over your cheek, a stark contrast to the raw passion of moments before. You collapsed against him, your breaths uneven, your heart still racing as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with only the sound of your ragged breathing and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

Then you tilted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone before murmuring, “So, a good birthday then?”

His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, his hand cupping the back of your head as he kissed your temple. “Best damn birthday I’ve ever had, darlin’.”

[siriuslylantsov]

6 string

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: in which, joel teaches you how to play a song on the guitar.

tags: fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, contractor!joel makes a brief appearance, no outbreak au, age gap, r has hair long enough to twirl but thats it for appearances, so so sweet, some singing, joel makes a dirty joke (i couldn't help myself) hozier mentioned!! and played... by a certain someone, and riptide as the song r learns, one mention of a dead parent.

a/n: my second joel teaching reader fic, this is very telling... also! should this be more frequent? my requests are open if you have any suggestions? i'm self taught when it comes to guitar, where tf was joel miller to teach me...

wc: 1.6k

“could you teach me?”

joel's head doesn’t lift up from his plans, long blue scrolls stretched across the table. “teach you what, baby?” he murmurs absentmindedly.

“a song. on your guitar,” you answer, voice small.

he looks at you now, his expression mildly shocked. you seem to have garnered his full attention, though it wasn't difficult when it came to you, he let go of the corner of paper that he had pinned to the hard surface. 

“i've been tryin’ to get you to play for months now,” he replies, not irritated but curious. “why the change of heart?”

“oh, i don't know. i just think it’d be nice to have a skill that i can credit to you.” you know the justification isn’t necessary and you know he knows that. he’ll do it regardless, anything for his girl.

a wry smile plays on his lips. “i’ve taught you plenty’a skills,” he says, not oblivious to the innuendo that clung to his statement. 

you huff out a chuckle, “not like that, silly.”

 you watch him walk over to you. his hands plant themselves on your shoulders, thumbs caressing lightly in the divots of your collarbones before turning you around. 

“let's go.”

“what? now?” you ask, although you don't stop him as he gently pushes you to the living room as he follows with his hands still on you.

“got other plans?” he sits you down on the couch, moving across the room to grab the instrument. 

“no,” you respond, smiling when he sits to your right. he's angled slightly so you can see his hands. it's how you're usually positioned when he plays you stuff so he can watch you but this time it's more for your benefit. 

“d’ya have a song in mind?”

you hum in thought, trying to recall songs he's played. they all seem difficult. “something easy?” you suggest.

“‘s a little cliche but a good beginner song,” he says as he starts to play.

recognition dawns on you, he's playing riptide. he quietly hums, a low timbre to the verse. you want to melt. 

“i love it when you play,” you murmur, dropping your head to his shoulder. 

“i love playin’ for you, sweetheart,” he replies, letting a chord fade out and handing you the guitar with a soft “c’mon.”

the instrument feels big in your arms as you rest your elbow over the base of it. it's not that you forget how much bigger joel is to you but in this instance it becomes painfully obvious. he guides your other hand to the neck, curling it around the wood. 

“okay, so riptide consists of three chords. a minor, g and c and it's the same strummin’ pattern all the way through,” he explains, moving your fingers to the first chord shape.

he places your fingers over different fret boards and you try to remember each one as he moves on to the next. you give an experimental strum to one chord and sounds with an unpleasant pitchy buzz. your face screws up and he chuckles lightly.

“you have to press hard enough so you get a clear tone, but not too much, just enough that it's firm against the fret,” he says, covering your hand with his own and pushing down.

“ow,” you gripe as the strings dig into your fingertips. 

“sorry, baby. s’gonna hurt like hell for now, need to build up your calluses for it to not.”

“it's fine,” you reply, partially distracted by how his calloused fingertips rub against the back of your hand, trailing down to allow you to try again.

you do, pressing a little harder, ignoring the pain. when you strum again it comes out a bit clearer, still buzzy, but better than before. 

you spend the next 30 minutes trying to switch chords, a feat more difficult than you thought it would be. you almost rage quit five times but joel's soothing encouragement urges you to keep trying. 

“how do you do this so easily?” you whine, leaning back on him. he's sitting a little behind you now, as you've moved to the edge of the couch. 

“playing for 20 years helps,” he says with a little shrug, rubbing your arm.

“careful, mister. you're showing your age,” you warn teasingly and he chuckles, that same warm one that you love so much.

“good to try some stummin’ now?”

“mhm,” you sit straight again. 

he crowds in behind you, arm coming to rest above your right one. he has a gentle grasp on your wrist and your palm as he directs your movements along the strings; down, down, up down up, he murmurs quietly in your ear, moving your hand accordingly.

you get the hang of it, you think. stumbling here and there when you do a down instead of an up, or the opposite. he watches as you intently strum, his fingers keeping the strings muted by touching them lightly. your hand, not on the neck anymore, rests on his thigh.

“keep going,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. “you’re doin’ good.”

he lifts his fingers off the strings, and they start to resonate with uneven tones. but then a very distinct note rings out and you realise he's started to play the chords while you strum. it sounds good. you look at him and smile, and he shoots you an equally bright grin, crows feet deepening proudly. 

“there we go,” he spurs as your strumming stays perfectly consistent. you hum the melody as he effortlessly switches chords, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he does so. “wanna try doin’ both at the same time?”

you stop, your wrist growing a little tired. “tomorrow.”

“okay, sweet girl.” he takes the guitar out of your arms and leans it against the couch. 

he instinctively wraps around you when you curl into his side, scooting further back into the couch. his fingers play with the hair at the nape of your neck, it makes you squirm because it tickles and he laughs. the same low and warm one again, his chest vibrates with the sound as you press your ear to it. you can hear his heart beat in steady thumps. he leans his head against yours, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the space between you. his free hand settles on your leg, his thumb lazily tracing small, aimless patterns.

“can't believe i've never asked this,” you ask, suddenly curious. “how did you learn how to play?”

he tenses ever so slightly before easing again. 

“y’know my dad died when i was young, right?”

“yeah,” you confirm, lifting your head so you can see his face.

“well, he used to play all the time and after he passed my mom let me have his guitar,” he explains, twirling a strand of your hair with his fingers. he stares absentmindedly at your shoulder, but his gaze is solemn leaving you no reason to worry.

“took me ‘bout a year to pick the damn thing up ‘cause everytime i did it reminded me of him but when i finally did, i spent days on end teachin’ myself. didn't want a teacher or nothin’. if anythin', i wanted him to teach me but i never took up his offer when he was alive.”

“sweet,” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out sadly.

“you’re sweet,” he counters, tapping your nose with his finger. it wrinkles up at the contact and you pull away to reach for his guitar. you hand it to him, perking up in anticipation.

“play me ‘like real people do’?” you request, knowing smile on your lips.

only you could get mumblin’ grumblin’ joel miller to learn a hozier song. it took a bit of convincing, to which he would reply with begrudging grunts like it was the worst thing in the word. but he learned it surprisingly fast, playing it out of nowhere later that night. 

“‘f you sing, then yeah.”

you nod and he shakes his head fondly as he begins to play. you’re not a singer by any means but you could keep a tune. 

“i had a thought, dear, however scary about that night, the bugs and the dirt,” you begin softly, nodding along to the beat.

“why were you digging? what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth?”

his fingers effortlessly plucks the right strings without looking, his eyes fixed on you with a reverence that makes you nervous. must be muscle memory, you wonder how long it’ll take you to get that good.

“i will not ask you where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you.”

your head tilts to the side, smiling. you bring a hand up to his jaw, scratching his beard lightly in a way you know he likes. you lean closer for the next words.

“honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do.”

so naturally, you kiss him, giggling as you do so. he nips at your bottom lip when he falters, you–the distraction–to blame. 

it goes sweetly and quietly like that. you lean against his shoulder for the rest of the song, humming the melody. he doesn't mind, he just likes the sound of your voice, be it behind closed lips or not. 

when the song ends, he freestyles a bit, you don’t know what he’s playing but it sounds nice. everything sounds nice, and smells nice and feels nice, you could probably die here and you’d be happy, so long as you could take joel with you. 

“play more tomorrow?” he asks, still plucking away. 

“yup,” you chirp, inadvertently agreeing to more frequent lessons by him. even though he doesn’t suggest it, it’s implied in your own secret little way, and how could you say no to an offer like that.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[yunholic-jongholic]

Present | K.HJ x Reader

SUMMARY | Hongjoong was working late at his office. You are asking your friend to help you with a present for Hongjoong. When Hongjoong comes back home, he is tired but very interested in his present waiting for him in his bed.

PAIRINGS | Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | Possessive x Dom!Joong, very smutty, NSFW, bondage kink, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, explicit language, Unprotected sex (don't do that), pussy-eating, creampie, orgasms, rough sex, praise kink, pet names, edging, teasing, dry humping, bulge mentioning.

WORD COUNT | 2.2k

AUTHOR NOTE | Wowie... First story... I am so sorry if it's lame I don't know how to write this stuff. I was being held captive by my Atiny gc. 😝 Please note that ENG is not my first language. I have grammar of a 2nd grader. I tried my best here. If you enjoyed this, thank you! If you didn't, I'm sorry again I'm not good.

•

It was late night in the apartment, You were waiting for your boyfriend Hongjoong to come back from working at the studio. You knew he was super busy, and it was already almost midnight. You had an idea of surprising Hongjoong when he comes back with a little present. You called up your best friend Mingi to tell him to come over and help you with the present.

"Mingi! I need you to come over before Hongjoong gets home, I want to make him a present, but I need your help on setting it up for him! He is going to love it!" You chirped excitedly, already looking in your closet for the items. "Okay? What happened to saying 'How are you Mingi' it's now always 'Help me with a favor, Mingi' You should be more thoughtful of me." Mingi pouted and cackled at the other end of the line. You rolled your eyes also puffing out a laugh.

"Please then? If that makes it better." You started rummaging through your drawers of clothes looking for a cute outfit to go with the present. "Alright. I'll be there in 10." Mingi sighed as he caved in towards your favor. You thanked him as you hung up, continuing to debate on clothing. "Damn, I can't decide if a cute outfit or revealing outfit would be better." You grabbed a pair of red laced panties and matching bra.

10 minutes go by, and Mingi arrives at the apartment, which you welcome him in. "Hey, great! Okay, meet me in my room so you can help." You said as you ran upstairs back to the room. Mingi follows from behind, not really saying anything. When Mingi and you go to the room, there is red ribbon you got from your sewing kit and your dark red laced bra and panties.

"Okay, not to concern you or make this awkward, I need to be wrapped in the ribbon. I am only needing help because I need my entire body while I sit on the bed and wait for Hongjoong." You confidently asked. Mingi just completely tries to interpret what you really meant and want. It finally clicks in him when he scans the bed. "Oh! Oh." He says almost slack-jawed. You nod your head, kind of feeling a light of embarrassment sparking up.

"Well, I need to go change so when I come back, please help me." You grab your underwear and go change in the bathroom. Mingi waits there, holding the ribbon. You come back just in the laced red underwear. "You promise this doesn't make an awkward friendship between us, I want to know it's because I trust you in these types of situations when Hongjoong isn't here." You mention standing next to the bed waiting. Mingi nods and thanks you for trusting him. He starts wrapping the ribbon from your feet to your neck. "Do you want me to tie the bow on your neck or your head?" Mingi asked. You told him where thinking the neck would be best so Hongjoong could see your face when he walks in.

Once he is done, you get up on the bed and sit there. "Okay, I am ready! Hongjoong should be home in a few minutes if he doesn't stay too late." You say, and Mingi nods, grabbing the ribbon, putting it on the desk by your bed. "I am going to go home and go to bed. No more favors, you freak." He smiles at you, and you smile back thanking him for his help. Mingi leaves closing both doors from your room to the front door and you just wait there until Hongjoong arrives home. A while goes by and you hear the front door open, right away Hongjoong yells through the house from downstairs.

"Hey, I will be up in a minute, going to make me a drink." Hongjoong spoke out from downstairs with a tired tone. You knew he was stressed with work especially when he called you this morning just feeling overwhelmed with how much work has been to him. You shuffled to get more comfortable and sat on your hind legs, middle of the bed. Took a few more minutes until you heard his footsteps come upstairs and you felt your face heat up right when he opened that door.

Hongjoong entered the room with a glass in hand, his gaze sweeping over your body. The sight of you lying on his bed, adorned in nothing but red lace underwear and elegantly wrapped in red ribbons, instantly ignited a spark within him. Hongjoong moved closer, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of you. He quickly took a large swig of the alcoholic drink in his hand, a few drops trailing down his chin. You decided to say something breath shaky from what you were imagining what would happen.

"I wanted to give you a present, I know you've been working so hard lately and I wanted to help you relieve some stress." You said to him shifting your legs already feeling heat rush down to your core. Hongjoong touches your cheek making you look into his eyes. "So, you planned all this and dressed up so perfectly just for me?" His voice grew raspy, and you could see the darkness deepening in his eyes. You nodded softly and mentioned Mingi helped you a bit with the ribbons. That's when Hongjoong's mood changed. He grabbed your chin, and you felt a shiver crawl down your spine as he gritted his teeth.

"So, you let Mingi see you like this? And touch you?" Hongjoong snapped, taking another deep swig of his drink. The strong scent of alcohol mixed with sweet apple lingered on his breath. You explained quickly not to get the wrong idea that Mingi only helped you with this and it was nothing personal or for that reason. "Hongjoong, I swear, Mingi only helped me put this on for you, we don't have that type of relationship or anything." You breathed out and at that moment Hongjoong got on the bed with you setting his drink down on the nightstand which was already near empty. He got closer towards your face, his nose almost touching your nose.

"I don't like people touching my things, especially Mingi." Hongjoong growled grabbing the ribbon around your thighs pulling you on his lap. You whimpered as you felt his length in his pants poke you in the ass. "Oh my god! Joong-" you whined out, but before you got to say anything he connected his lips onto yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth fighting over dominance with you which clearly, he won, and you let him take over. You started frottering your hips down on him causing him to groan in your mouth. He pulls away and huffs out telling you to stop. As his lips meet your neck, a shiver runs down your spine and you moan out. His teeth pull the ribbon from your skin unraveling the bow tied around your neck.

"Hongjoong- Please..." You moan out once again. Hongjoong pulled the ribbon down from your neck towards your chest revealing only your red laced bra now. He continued kissing your neck, nibbling it a few times as he next snapped your bra off.

"Next time Mingi comes over, he is for sure to know you are only mine." Hongjoong groaned as you started grinding your hips down on him again. At the sensation, he hissed and grabbed your neck, pinning you to the bed and now on top of you. You whimpered once again, Hongjoong sighed and started pulling the ribbons off your body more and more to where you were only left in your red laced underwear.

Because of your sensations of sensuous arousal and griding with him, you already had a wet patch on your laced panties. Hongjoong pulled your panties down and kissed your thighs and stomach. His hot breath brushed over your skin. You moaned as he caressed your thighs telling you to spread out for him which you obeyed.

"Good girl." he smirked, kissing your inner thigh. He nibbled on your inner thigh skin leaving a small bite mark on it causing you to whine at the feeling. Hongjoong slowly lowered his face onto your cunt. You already felt so damn sensitive down there and right as Hongjoong latches his tongue onto your folds, you feel the spark of pure bliss hit you.

"Oh! My fucking goodness!" You moan out almost screaming. You grab a fistful of his hair in one hand and grip the clothed sheets in the other hand moaning out. He repeatedly flicks his tongue over your clit causing you to arch your back.

"Hongjoong please!" You moan gripping his hair pulling him closer into you. You start feeling your insides pulse as he swirls his tongue.

"Fuck! Please! I am going to cum!" You sit up quickly feeling your orgasm about to snap. You were practically melting just by his damn tongue. With a sly smile, he glanced up at you before grabbing your arms and pinning them to your hips. When he stopped touching you, you whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to free yourself from his grip. Smirking at your attempts to get away, he licked his lips.

"Ah, it's so cute seeing you struggle under me. You are so wet down there, were you close?" He teased. You huffed out and told him it's not fair. He sat up pulling his shirt and pants off, leaving him only in his underwear. You could see the hard outline of his erection and you just hummed having dark thoughts. He groaned as he pinned you back down, preventing you from sitting up. "You aren't going to escape so easily darling." He gave a playful coo. He grabbed the ribbon he took off your body from the bed and lifted your arms tying them together above your hair to restrain you.

"Fuck! Y/N!" he cursed seeing how helpless you looked at him. Hongjoong then took his underwear off letting his cock spring free which was already leaking with precum. Feeling both anxious and thrilled you squirmed your hips underneath him. He gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap aligning the tip into your entrance. He finally pushed himself in causing you to moan out.

"Hongjoong!" you screamed his name as he pushed even deeper inside you not giving you time to prepare for him. He looked deeply into your eyes as he started to move in and out of you. Huffing every time, he slid back in.

"You are so tight darling." he groaned. His grip on your waist tightened, firm enough to leave bruises by tomorrow. He kept eye contact with you, but you couldn't. You just wanted to throw your head back, scream and close your eyes.

"Hey! Darling. Keep looking at me." he groaned as he started thrusting harder. You were just a moaning mess, and you tried to grasp the sheets above your head, but your fingers failed to find a hold. Hongjoong started moving faster and his thrusts got sloppier. You could tell he was clearly drunk and in need of support, so you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. You even started grinding your hips down on him. As he continued to thrust in and out, you could feel his cock pulsing inside of your sopping wet cunt. Hongjoong moaned as the thrusts got sloppier and quicker.

"Hongjoong! I am so close!" You moaned, pulling his neck down, locking eyes with him. Within moments, he pressed his lips against yours, deepening the kiss as you melted into each other. He was the first to break the kiss, his hand tightening around your ribbon-tied wrists as he pinned them above your head with a firm grip. Your head fell back to the side, a moaning mess as his tip kissed your sweet spot. "Fuck, Y/N! I need you to cum with me!" He growled nearly sinking his nails into your wrists.

"Please!" You moaned agreeing to cum alongside with him. Hongjoong did one final hard thrust as his cum filled inside your cunt. Your body shook with intense pleasure when you experienced the release of your own orgasm, and you let out a loud moan. Hongjoong huffed out keeping himself inside. Out of breath he chuckled looking into your eyes. "Best present I got." He spoke out licking his lips again. You whined as he pulled out and he kissed your cheek.

"You need to go to bed now messy boy." you teased him as he untied your wrists. He gave you a glance as he grabbed his drink taking the last sip of it before immediately kissing your lips slow and softly. "Better keep your mouth shut or I will tie your mouth up next." he teased snickering at his own comment. You rolled your eyes and sat up. He mentioned right away he could go for a second round.

"Of sex or a drink?" you laughed a bit, and he just stared deeply into your eyes knowing what he meant and wanted. Hongjoong wanted another round with you, not caring if he is drunk as fuck.

•

Yo! First Story! I am so sorry if it sucked. If you did like it, please reblog! I am also totally welcomed to any recommendation/requests if you have them! I would love y'all to recommend me ideas for future stories! Thank you again for reading! :] -N

[yandere-sins]

I love you so much, you know? I’ve been reading your work for a while now and I’ve been holding back from requesting until now. I just read your Sylus fic and oh my god??? I can’t anymore. You write him so good I was engrossed the entire time. I wanted to request some LaD stuff from you but I didn’t know if you played the game or even knew it existed (despite its popularity) so I was too embarrassed to.

That brings me to the request itself. Xavier is my fav, if you’re comfortable writing for him, can I ask for a possessive/obsessive fic for him? How he’d be possessive/obsessive in a yandere sense, since we already know he’s pretty possessive canonically. I get major wolf in sheep’s clothing vibes from him. And I think he has potential yandere traits with the whole “No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are… I will find you.”

I love how you write smut so I would love some of that in it, if it feels right to you. If not that’s completely okay. I may not be giving enough substance to write with so please let me know if you feel like you need more elaboration. Thank you so much!

Feel free to ignore! Take care! I love ya!💕

Thank you so much for requesting some LaD, I'm so glad you enjoyed the other story ♥ Some friends to enemies for you, coming right up ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Is this where he touched you?"

"Ngh— Xav— What are you—!"

"Or was it here?"

A shuddering breath escaped your lips as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. Your back arched as he pressed you towards the front door of your apartment, the cold wood heating up quickly from your own body heat. With his leg pushing between yours, kicking aside your right ankle, and loosening your position, you were quickly caught in his trap, feeling his fingers brush over your panties, sending tingles up your spine.

"What's gotten into you, Xavier?! Why are you even here?! I locked the door before coming home, didn't I?!"

It wasn't unusual for you two to hang out at the end of the day, Xavier being your closest friend ever since you two became mission partners. But you never crossed the line with him, never felt his hands roam your body so hungrily, reaching for what wasn't his.

The grip around your wrists tightened, pinning them even harder against the door in front of you, and you hissed at the sting of pain it caused. You knew how capable Xavier was firsthand, having watched him fight countless times, but he had never used his strength against you before, causing a flare of panic to rise inside you.

"Where was it? Where did he touch you?" he urged, his voice laced with anger that you had never heard from him before. He leaned forward, lips brushing against your earlobe until you felt the pattern of his teeth against your skin, nipping away. You didn't remember doing anything wrong, so why was he so upset?

Digging his middle finger between your folds, he dragged it upwards until it scratched at your clit, immediately turning into Xavier manipulating the little knob, flicking and abusing it while your back arched, buttcheeks pressing against his crotch. A surprised gasp eluded you as he reminded you of the more pressing matter of his assault rather than playing his little Q&A.

"Wait! Stop! That's not— We're not like that, Xavier!"

"Really? Because you seemed perfectly fine getting chummy with that guy."

"Wait, you mean the neighbor?!" you squeaked, followed by your head falling forward and breathing off the shameful moan that nearly escaped your throat as Xavier's hand changed its rhythm to include more fingers rubbing side to side. Goosebumps erupted on your arms, your body reacting with familiar glee. It was the very same touches you sometimes used on yourself, but with the fabric of your panties in the way, the friction was much better than your own fumbling.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you complained between heavy breaths, barely able to stop your hips from moving against his hand, inflicting more pushes of pleasure.

"I thought you didn't care about who gets you off, seeing how you let just anyone touch you."

"He just returned my sugar jar!" you whined loudly, your body caving into his touch. It had been so long since the last time someone actually touched you like this. So long since you had the chance to let off some steam, too, with new missions trickling in constantly. You hadn't even been home for the last few days—which your neighbor had noted when he returned the jar, having tried it a few times before.

That didn't justify Xavier's actions, though.

"Stop it! Stop it right now!" you finally spoke up, twisting your torso around and tearing one hand from Xavier's hold, instead pressing it into his chest. You, too, had enough training to qualify for the hunter position, and your strength was remarkable in every aspect as well. However... you were no match for his surge of emotions.

"So he did touch you," Xavier concluded, and despite the strain on your wrist, he stepped even closer, his hand slipping further down your sweatpants. You broke out of the clutch, retracting your hand only to reach up and grab him by the hair, the only easily reachable thing you could use against him. But by the time you made your first tug, his fingers had already pushed aside your panties.

You gasped while Xavier hummed appreciatively, even with your full hand in his hair, pulling the strands as hard as your tense position allowed, he seemed no more stressed or urged to end this. Instead, he slipped his fingers through your slick, feeling the welcoming warmth of your pussy as it enticed him with its wetness. Traitor, you thought, biting your lips while tears welled in your eyes. What a shame it was to be betrayed by your own desire while the man you presumed to be one of your best friends treated you like shit.

"Please..." you whimpered. "Let's just stop?"

"So you can go back to him now that I prepared you? Is that what you want?" Xavier asked, danger swinging in the voice he used to spit this at you.

"I'm not going to anyone, but this isn't right, and you know it!"

"Of course you won't. I won't allow it."

And with that, his fingers curled inward, spreading apart your eager lips and allowing him to slip inside. The first one made you gasp, despite barely being all the way in. But by the time the second finger arrived, you couldn't hold back a moan, Xavier's hand molding to the shape of your pussy, covering it possessively while giving his fingers the freedom to sink inside up to his knuckles. He only arched his palm to place his thumb back on your clit, slick and swollen, more jolts of pleasure zapping through you as he connected with it.

"Fuck," you breathed out heavily, feeling your grip on his hair loosen as your body sunk down onto his hand, easily lifted by his strength. But once you noticed, you jolted back up, gulping down a gasp as Xavier began pumping his fingers in and out of you.

"Is that what this is about? You think you own me? And you're jealous of someone giving me back my jar of freaking sugar?!" you managed to bite out between his fingers spreading you apart savagely.

"Correction," Xavier mumbled, and you felt his hot breath next to your ear, his movements becoming much more vigorous as he sandwiched you between his body and the door.

"You've been mine long before anyone else. I always know where you are and who you are with, and that guy is trouble. He's been borrowing your sugar more often than you fall asleep in my arms while we're watching a movie. He's into you, and I won't let him have you. And you'll no longer want him once I'm done with you."

"I never did!" you cried out, absolutely baffled at Xavier's words. You never knew he thought about you like this! He never let on that he was any more than your friend and mission partner! Sure, you two were close, but that's how it was supposed to be! All of his actions now felt like a betrayal of the worst kind.

If betrayal felt this good.

"Fuck, Xavier," you moaned. There was nothing left of the drowsy friend you knew as his fingers hammered into you relentlessly. You heard the squelching of your own juices through the fabric of your pants, paired with the pleasurable jolts wrecking your body.

"That's right, say my name. It's the only one you should be calling."

"Xavier, please—! I—!"

Your hand finally released its death grip on his hair, sinking down to the side of his body. As the edge closed in, you held on to his clothes, and he finally released your still-pinned hand to wrap his free arm around your body. Pulling you securely against him, he hit just the right spot with his ever-moving fingers that made your toes curl, your voice rejoicing as you cramped up, the bittersweet release washing over you.

For a moment, you could forget about the betrayal and heartbreak you felt, the tears in your eyes from pained relief as your orgasm shook through you. It didn't justify what he did, and you hated that it felt so good, but it was like he knew all the little buttons he needed to push inside you to scramble your brain into pieces. Despite it all, you felt more seen than you had in a long time, the pleasure releasing so much tension and stress that had built up over the weeks. It was that good.

But everything that could be considered good in that situation had to end eventually, and it did, slowly, as you regained your senses and realized what Xavier had done to you. What you let him do to you. It wasn't your fault, and yet it felt like it.

If only you had fought harder and made your disapproval clearer, maybe he wouldn't have...

Looking up, you hadn't even realized that Xavier made sure to lay you down safely on the floor, squatting above you with an intense stare raking over your body. You watched breathlessly as he lifted a wet hand to his mouth, tongue lapping at the slick from your pussy clinging to his fingers, without breaking his eye contact.

"I thought we were friends," you choked out, the floodgates of your eyes opening as tears blurred your vision. "How could you do this to me?"

"It was time, was it not?" he asked in this eerily calm voice of his. Never before had his demeanor frightened you so, but in front of you wasn't your "friend" Xavier, but the hunter. The cold-blooded, jealous hunter that you must have ignored for so long since you never saw him outside of work. Or perhaps he had just hidden it, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Time for what?" you sobbed.

His features softened a little as Xavier reached down to wipe away some of the tears that had escaped from your eyes. But just as quickly, his expression grew emotionless again, unfeeling and factual.

"That you learn your place."

It didn't make sense. Who was this guy? Why was he in your home in the first place, and why did he know how often the neighbor borrowed your sugar jar? Why was all of this relevant, and why did you have to find out this way what kind of person Xavier really was?

Reaching down, Xavier picked you up, effortlessly it seemed, not concerned with your orgasm-pleased, heartbroken, and slack body weight as he heaved you into his arms before moving towards the bedroom.

"Learn what?" you asked, desperate to get at least some answers. Make some sense of this situation. Explain it, however possible.

"Learn that there's no one who loves you like I do," he replied. With a yelp rattling from your throat, you were thrown on top of your bed, your body aching as you propped yourself onto your forearms reflexively, too scared to look away. Reaching underneath his shirt, he pulled it off in one swift motion, exposing his chest before reaching for the waistband of his own pants. Only then did realization dawn on you as to what he was doing, your pulse rising as you quickly began to crawl away until your body hit the headboard of your bed.

"And that no one gets to touch what is mine without consequences."

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: a little angst, lots of fluff

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This chapter starts out a little angsty and has some surprises along the way. 

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few days I still felt Dean’s uneasiness from his dream. He of course tried to hide it, but knowing him for as long as I have I know when he’s hiding something. 

It was early in the morning when I woke up to an empty bed. Delilah was still sleeping. I stretched and grabbed my robe. 

I found Dean in the kitchen. He looked exhausted and was nursing a cup of coffee. His green eyes flicked up to mine and he smiled softly. 

“Hey baby. Want some coffee?” His voice was gruff and he sounded tired.

I nodded and grabbed a cup. As I walked past him I ran my hand over his shoulders. 

“Dean, are you okay? You looked exhausted.” “Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

“Dean, have you been sleeping at all? I go to bed alone, and when I wake up you’re already gone. Honey, please talk to me.” I placed my hands on his. 

“I just can’t shake the dream from the other day. Everything I’ve ever loved, everyone I’ve loved ends up leaving or dying. I just wouldn’t survive if something happened to you or Delilah.” 

“Oh Dean, we aren’t going anywhere. We have Jack and Cas on our side. Plus you’ve trained me well enough to take care of myself and her. Baby, you have got to get some sleep. You’re no good to us if you’re exhausted. Plus you get a little cranky.” 

A smile formed on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at me. “You’re right. I’m going to go lay back down. Want to join me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“You and I both know if I go in there with you then neither of us are getting any sleep. Now you go in there and get some sleep. I’ll keep your little princess entertained while you sleep.” I kissed his lips and ushered him to bed. 

About an hour later Delilah was awake and kept trying to sneak off to see Dean. “Delilah Rose, daddy is very tired. He needs sleep and we have to leave him alone.” 

She stuck out her lip and pouted, “But I want to play with daddy. I miss him.” I chuckled, “Baby he won’t be asleep forever. He will wake up and the two of you can play then.”

She nodded and sat on the floor in the library. I walked in the kitchen to grab her something to drink and when I walked back to the library she was gone. 

I sighed, I knew where she was. I caught her before she got the door open. I whispered, “Delilah! I told you to leave daddy alone.” “But I miss my daddy so much. I rolled my eyes, these two are insufferable. 

“Delilah, what do you say we go to the park then go get stuff to make daddy an apple pie?” Her big green eyes sparkled and she nodded. 

“Okay, go grab your shoes and coat.” She ran to her room and grabbed her shoes and coat, returning to me. 

I helped her put them on. And I grabbed my coat. I left Dean a note on the kitchen counter and we left. 

We went to the park and played for a little bit. I could tell Delilah was still a little sad. Her and Dean loved coming to the park. She played for a little while longer and I told her we needed to get to the store and then back home. 

I reached for my phone and realized I didn’t have it. I sighed. It’s okay. I left him a note. He will be fine. He’ll give me crap about forgetting my phone, but he’s used to it.

Delilah and I went to the store and got the things we needed for the pie and headed towards the bunker. 

When we got home Delilah bounded down the stairs. I found Dean having a panic attack in the library. When he saw us he jumped up and scooped up Delilah and grabbed me in his arms.

“Oh my god I was so worried about you two. You weren’t here when I got up, I couldn’t find you and you didn’t answer your phone. Why didn’t you answer your phone?!” 

I saw the panic and tears in his eyes and it broke my heart. “Dean, honey. I left a note and I forgot my phone. I’m so sorry baby.” I pulled Delilah out of his arms, “Baby, go play in your room. Okay? I promise, Daddy is okay. He was just scared.” 

Dean moved past me and went into the Dean cave and sat on the couch. He started sobbing. It broke my heart to see him. I placed my hand on his bicep, “Dean, baby. It’s okay, we’re okay. I took her to the park and then to the store.” “I’m sorry, Y/N. That dream just rocked me to my core. I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you or her. You two are my life.” 

I touched his face and he leaned into my palm. “Dean, I know what we need to do to help you move past this.” I closed my eyes and prayed. A few minutes later Jack appeared. 

I stood and hugged him, “Hey Jack.” “Hello.” He smiled, then he saw Dean and his face fell.

“Dean is having a hard time right now. I figured he needed to hear from you. He had a dream that scared him the other day and he can’t shake it. He dreamed Delilah and I vanished and he couldn’t find us.”

“I see.” Jack said and looked over at Dean again. “How can I help?” “Can you reassure him we are going to be okay?” He smiled and walked over to Dean. “Y/N and Delilah are okay. They are not going anywhere. Well, Delilah will when she goes to college and gets married. She’s going to have two children and live a very long life. Y/N is going to have another baby in about a year and she is going to live a long life too. No demons, vampires or anything will hurt them. You have trained her well.” 

Dean’s eyes looked at Jack and then over at me. “Wait, what? I’m going to have another baby?” “Oh yes, a little boy. He will be like Dean.” I chuckled. “Well then I’m a very lucky girl.” 

I heard Dean let out a shaky breath. He hugged Jack and thanked him. Then he walked over to me and pulled me close, “I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean to worry you or Delilah.” “Dean, it’s okay. We know how much you love us, and you being scared and worried just proves it. Now where the heck did the note go that I left you?” 

“Where did you leave it?” “On the counter in the kitchen.” The two of us walked in the kitchen, I carried the groceries I left in the war room. I didn’t see the note. Dean looked around and found it on the floor almost under the stove. “It must have blown off the counter.” I nodded, “I’m sorry. I promise not to forget my cell anymore. I guess this was just a perfect storm.” He nodded and pulled me in his arms.

“So, another baby, a boy?” I smiled, “I guess so. I wonder when he will be here. Jack said within the next year, so I guess we haven’t made him yet.” 

Dean laughed, “Guess we need to get on that.” I playfully rolled my eyes. He kissed my lips softly and behind me I heard the sound of little feet. Dean smirked against my lips and pulled away.

We turned and saw Delilah peeking around the doorway. Dean bent down and held out his arms, “Come here my little pumpkin pie. I’m okay. I promise.” Delilah bounded into the kitchen and threw herself into his arms. 

She had her favorite stuffy, a squirrel holding a baby squirrel and handed it to Dean. “To help you feel better daddy.” He took it with tears pricking his eyes. “Thank you baby girl, but your hugs always make me feel better.” 

Dean wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. 

I walked up to them and hugged them both. “Okay you two, out of my kitchen. I have something to do here and you both will be in the way.” I chuckled. Dean and Delilah feigned hurt. “Ouch babe, I guess the two of us will leave you then.” They laughed as they left the room.

The next few days things settled down and Dean was sleeping better. He smiled more and couldn’t stop thinking or talking about us having another baby. “Maybe we should ask Jack when the baby is born.” Dean said early in the morning. I shook my head, “Dean, no. We will find out just like everyone else. Everyone who doesn’t have a direct line to Heaven.”

He sighed, “Oh come on. Aren’t you just the least bit curious?” I nodded, “Yes, but you’re driving me crazy with it. If you want to know, then you call Jack and ask him. I want it to be a surprise.” I kissed his lips and started to climb out of bed. Dean pulled me back down into his arms. 

His lips on my neck as he held me flush to his chest. My back rested against him and his arms snaked around my body.

“Dean, we have to get up. You promised Delilah and daddy daughter day and you know she’s going to be up soon. What if she walks in here?”

Dean smirked and jumped out of bed, locking the door. A mischievous grin on his face, “There, problem solved.”

Dean climbed back in the bed and pulled my chest to his. “Now, where were we?” He started kissing my lips and down my neck. His hands trailed up my body and I arched my back, moaning. 

About half an hour later Dean and I were tangled in the sheets, trying to steady our breathing. “Mmm, that was amazing.” I said laying against him with my head and hand on his chest. 

“Aren’t you glad I locked the door.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I am. Now let’s get up so you can take our baby for her daddy daughter day.” 

“Yeah, I have to show her what to expect from a man so she never settles for less.” I smirked, “Well, you’re doing an amazing job of that.” I kissed his lips and got out of bed, getting dressed I tossed Dean his clothes. 

“Take a shower, I’ll get her up and ready.” He nodded and smiled, “Hey, Y/N?” I turned to face him, “Yes, Dean?” “I love you, Y/N.” I smiled, “I love you too, Dean. So much.” 

An hour later Dean and Delilah were loading up in the Impala. He hooked her in her carseat and her legs swung back and forth as her giggles filled the backseat. 

I kissed her head and kissed Dean goodbye. “You two have fun. Try not to eat too much junk and spoil your supper.” I winked at him. “We will try. I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Dean. Be careful and I’ll see you two later.” 

The Impala roared to life and I watched as the two of them drove away. I let out a breath and walked back into the bunker. 

I went to the Dean cave and started to clean. I made my way into Delilah’s room and then mine and Dean’s. I decided to strip the beds and do some laundry. 

I cleaned the bunker and pulled out a book to read. My phone rang as I sat down and saw it was Dean. I chuckled.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, sweetheart. We have a question for you.” 

“Okay, what is it?” 

“White or brown?”

I was confused. “What are you talking about? I need more context, Dean.” 

He chuckled, “Just answer the question, white or brown?”

“Um, white?” “Okay, thanks sweetheart. We love you. Remember that.” 

“Uhoh, what are you two up to?” 

I heard Dean and Delilah giggle, “Nothing. We will be home soon.” 

“Now I really am worried. I’ll see you two soon. Love you two.” 

“Love you too. Bye.”

Dean hung up and my curiosity piqued. What trouble could those two be up to now. I loved them going on daddy daughter dates, but sometimes they would get into mischief.

About thirty minutes later I heard the Impala pull into the garage. Dean and Delilah’s laughter filled the air. 

I sat my book down and waited for them. Dean was carrying Delilah and they walked into the library. 

“Hi Mommy. We’re back.” 

“Hi baby. I see that. Did you and daddy have fun?” 

Her green eyes twinkled, “The best. Daddy took me shopping and I got a new dress, then he took me to get ice cream and then we got you a surprise.” 

I smiled. “Well I can’t wait to see your dress. I bet it’s beautiful.” 

She smiled big, “Yes it is. It’s blue with stars on it. Daddy said I’m his angel so I needed a star dress.” 

I looked over at Dean and he was grinning. She definitely has him wrapped around her finger. 

“Mommy, are you ready for your surprise? We’re gonna give it to her now, right Daddy?” Dean nodded. 

“Wait here mommy. Daddy and I will be right back.” 

I smiled and my heart beat wildly. What were these two up to. Before Dean left the room to chase after her he looked at me and smiled, “Remember we love you and this is something we need.” 

“Oh lord. I can’t imagine what it is.” He chuckled. “I’ll be back.” He kissed me and went back towards the garage. 

I could hear Delilah’s giggles fill the air. I knew I was in trouble. 

“Mommy, close your eyes please.” 

“Okay baby. They are closed.” 

I could hear her and Dean walk back into the room. Then I felt a heavy box on my lap. 

“Okay open your eyes sweetheart.” 

I opened them to find a big brown box on my lap. “Open the box mommy.” 

Delilah squealed in delight. 

I carefully lifted the lid. A little apprehensive of what was in the box. I gasped. I looked up at Dean and then at Delilah. 

“Oh my goodness, are you serious?!” Dean grinned, “Yeah. We saw it and immediately thought about you.” 

“Oh my gosh Dean. This is perfect.”

In the box looking up at me was a beautiful white terrier mix puppy with big blue eyes. I had one as a child and she got hit by a car. I had mentioned to Dean years ago how I always wanted one especially for Delilah. 

I pulled the puppy out of the box and held her tight. “She’s beautiful, Dean and Delilah. Thank you.” 

She was perfect and so sweet. Giving the best kisses and falling asleep on my lap. I lazily rubbed her head as I talked to Dean about a name. 

“She needs a name. Something fitting.” Dean nodded. I looked at him and smirked, “I know. How about, baby?” 

Dean looked at me and shook his head, “Nope. There’s only room for one baby in the family and she’s in the garage.” Delilah looked at Dean, “No daddy, it’s me.” 

I laughed,”She’s got you there Dean.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re my little pumpkin pie.” 

“But I’m also your baby.” He nodded and pulled her in his lap, “You’ll always be my baby girl.” 

She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, “And you’ll always be my daddy.” 

Dean’s smile grew. 

“Okay guys, seriously we have to give this little girl a name.” I said holding the puppy. 

Dean smirked, “What about, dog?” 

I raised an eyebrow, “Uh no. Good thing we have to agree on our children’s names. Delilah might have ended up being named “girl”.” I laughed. 

“Hey, I think I picked a beautiful name for our girl.” “Yes you did, Dean.”

“Well you said no to “baby” what about "Angel "?" 

Dean looked at me and shook his head. 

Delilah looked up from her coloring book, “Bubbles”. 

Dean chuckled, “What? You can’t name a dog “Bubbles”.” 

I looked at him and then at her. “It’s a great name, baby girl.” 

“But daddy doesn’t like it.” She hung her head. 

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “No baby, mommy is right. It’s a great name.” 

“You mean it daddy?” Her green eyes searching his. “Yes, I love it.” 

“Yay! Can we call her Bubbles?” 

I smiled and nodded. Dean just shook his head and sighed. 

Delilah left to go take her coloring book and crayons in her room and I stood up with Bubbles and hugged Dean. 

“See, I told you. She had you wrapped around your finger.” 

“Don’t I know it. Now I have a dog named Bubbles. What kind of badass Hunter has a dog named Bubbles?!” 

I laughed, “One who would do anything to make his little girl happy.” 

I kissed his lips softly and walked towards the kitchen. 

“We need to get some things for the dog. Like food, a bed, food and water bowl, and some toys.” I looked at Dean as I sat Bubbles down. 

“Already taken care of. It’s in the car. I’ll go grab it.” I nodded. 

As Dean made his way to the car he heard the tapping of paws behind him. Bubbles was following him. 

“Bubbles, Jeez I can’t believe that’s your name. You have to go back inside. Don’t follow me.” 

The dog turned her head like she was listening to him and sat down. 

“Good, now stay.” Bubbles stood up and wagged her tail and as Dean walked she followed. Dean stopped and looked. Bubbles wagged her tail. 

Dean shook his head. He walked to the car and got out the stuff he bought at the pet store. Bubbles followed behind. 

He returned to the kitchen with his arms full. I chuckled when I saw Bubbles following closely behind him. “Looks like you’ve got a shadow.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah. I guess I just attract all the ladies.” He laughed. 

I washed the bowls and filled them with food and water. Dean helped me figure out where to put her things, especially her food so she didn’t get in it. 

I turned around to show her where her food was and she was gone. 

I looked at Dean and we went looking for her. “Hey Delilah, have you seen Bubbles?” I asked as I approached her door. She shook her head no. 

I continued looking when I heard Dean.

“Bubbles! No!” I ran to our room and saw Dean standing with one of his favorite flannels in his hand. It looked ripped. I bit my lip to stifle the giggle. 

“She ate my shirt! My favorite shirt.” The giggle slipped out.

“Oh so this is funny?” I nodded, “Yeah a little. We just have to train her. She’s a baby, Dean.” “Well first thing tomorrow she’s going to training.” 

I laughed, “Dean, you have to sign her up for the classes.” 

“Well her and I will go and beg them to take her. I can’t have her eating all my clothes.” “Well, at least it wasn’t the leather in the car, or your favorite boots.” 

His head spun and he looked at me and gasped, “Bite your tongue.” He looked at Bubbles who was wagging her tail at him with her tongue out, “And you better not get any ideas.” She barked and wagged her tail at him.

“Aww look at that, another girl already wrapped around your finger.” He scoffed.

Over the next few weeks we all fell into a comfortable rhythm with Bubbles and her training was going good. She had stopped chewing on things other than her toys and she was always by Dean’s side. 

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my burgundy shirt? I can’t find it anywhere.” I heard Dean call from the bedroom. 

“The last I saw it was in the laundry pile when I washed clothes the other day. Check your closet.” 

“I did, it’s not in there.” I walked towards the laundry room, maybe it was hanging in there. I looked and couldn’t find it. 

“Sorry babe, I can’t find it. I don’t know where it is.” 

“This is weird. I’m missing some shirts, some socks and I can’t find my old leather jacket.” “That is weird. I’ll see if I can help you find them.” 

We searched everywhere. Checking the garage, the laundry room, the bathrooms, our room, then I walked into Delilah’s room. 

I noticed something sticking out from under her pillow. I lifted her pillow and found one of Dean’s missing t-shirts. I chuckled, “Hey Dean, can you come here please.” 

Dean walked to the door, “What’s up?” “Look.” I showed him his shirt and he smiled. He shrugged, “What can I say the girl loves me.” “Yes she does.”

We searched her room for the other things that were missing but couldn’t find them. 

“I was sure we would find the rest of the stuff in her room. Let’s check the Dean cave. Maybe you took your jacket off in there.” 

We went to the room and started searching, not finding anything. I looked over and noticed Bubbles’ bed was missing. “Dean, where is Bubbles’ bed?” “It was right there.” He pointed to the now empty spot.

“Okay, this is weird. You’re missing things and now her bed is gone.” 

I walked around to the side of the couch that was close to the wall. I looked down and chuckled. 

“Dean, come here.” He walked over and looked down. There between the couch and the wall was Bubbles. Curled in a ball, laying on her bed and a pile of Dean’s shirts, socks and his jacket.

He sighed, “So she’s not chewing on my stuff, she’s taking it now.” “It’s because it has your scent, Dean. You’re her person.” 

“Well can’t I be her person without her taking my stuff?” He chuckled. When he laughed Bubbles stretched and looked up and saw him. She wagged her tail and leaped up. 

He scooped her up and she started licking his face. I laughed “You know it’s only fair Bubbles took your shirts. Delilah and I both have your shirts and you’re our person, so she needs something too.” 

“At this rate I won’t have any clothes left.” I laughed. I bent down and started to gather his stuff out of her bed. She looked at me and whimpered. 

Dean looked at me and at Bubbles, “Leave that one.” He nodded towards an old green shirt he wears when he works on Baby. I smiled and nodded. I put it back in her bed and she snuggled to Dean. 

I placed a kiss on his lips and pet Bubbles. 

A few hours later Dean, Delilah, Bubbles and I were snuggled on the couch watching Frozen, again. I was sitting on Dean’s right side, Delilah was snuggled to this left and Bubbles was asleep in his lap. 

I looked over in the middle of the movie and saw the three of them fast asleep. I grabbed a blanket and draped it over them. I pulled one over me and snuggled back to Dean. Looking over at my family I thought how incredibly blessed I was to have Dean and Delilah. I couldn’t wait to add our baby boy to our family. He will fit in perfectly and will complete our little family. 

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[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

Day 11: Convenience Store/Emerald

The ice cream drops into Kara’s basket with a rattling thud that jars her frazzled nerves even more than the humming of the flickering convenience store lights. Alex’s words echo in her ears. Words like “reckless” and “unnecessary risk” and “I should send you to the medbay. I didn’t realize that fight with Corben had melted your BRAIN.”

  Kara felt that last one was a bit much. It wasn’t like she’d been hurt or anything. And all those people in the L-Corp lab had been saved! As far as she’s concerned, that’s an absolute success!  Kara drops another pint into her basket. It hits her already tall stack and rolls off. Should she get a fourth basket? No. The plastic grocery bags might rip on her flight home.  She puts the pint back with a resigned sigh. 

And you know what? Her plan had been solid. Sure, it was risky to go straight through the kryptonite powered robots without waiting for backup but she’d been on a time crunch! And maybe Alex should think about issuing less dumb orders if she wanted Kara to follow them. “Wait while we identify the bomb” what kind of stupid idea was that? It was already ticking! 

She’s just turning the corner, still thinking about Alex and the fact that she’d actually seemed a little disappointed when Kara had told her Lena survived when she nearly slams into someone coming the opposite way. It’s only her superspeed that averts the collision as she jerks to the side just in time. In her distracted state, however, it is not enough to prevent one of her baskets from clipping the stranger’s arm, sending both her ice cream and their groceries tumbling to the floor. 

 “Oh— Oh my gosh I am so sorry! I can help you clean this up. I— Lena?” 

And it is. Tied hair mostly covered by a junky black hoodie Kara hadn’t even imagined she owned, Lena stares back at her with equal surprise behind a a pair of sunglasses. She smells faintly of burned plastic. And alcohol. 

“Hi… Kara. Nice… seeing you here?” 

Kara doesn’t think it’s intended to be a question, but she answers anyway. “It is! I would’ve thought you had people to do your midnight shopping though.” 

Lena says nothing. Probably would have been nicer if Kara hadn’t thrown her stuff all over the floor. “Oh! Here, let me help you with your… rope…and bleach.” 

Both of them pause, surveying the unique collection of bottles of lighter fluid, rope, bleach, and cartons of boxed wine. 

“Well. Lovely seeing you.” Lena says, and then she has her things shoved into her basket and is power walking down the aisle as briskly as possible without breaking into a run. 

“Lena— Lena, wait!” Kara calls after her, scooping up her ice creams. Lena pays (in cash) and by the time Kara has paid and caught up with her she is opening the door of her car. “Lena!” 

Lena pauses and looks back. 

“Are you sure you should be driving?” Kara asks, “You seem a little. Uhh—” Sloshed? Tipsy? Buzzed? “…Tired.” 

“I’m fine Kara. I drove myself here. I can drive myself home.”

“Oh, I’m sure, I just— I saw the news today.” Kara says. 

Lena stiffens at her car door. “What about it? Not like it’s the first time.” She says. Her flippant tone is somewhat undercut by the force with which she throws her bag into the back seat. 

“You almost died today. I— I heard Supergirl was cutting it pretty close with that bomb.” Kara says. It’s an understatement. After the robots and decoy bombs Kara only had arrived as it went off. It was a miracle Lena hadn’t been badly burned from the heat of the blast before Kara had gotten her cape around her.  

Lena shrugs. “Yeah, well. Another gift from Lex.” 

“Lena, that’s worse!” Kara says, harsher than she’d intended. 

Lena stops, and Kara gets the impression that Lena is truly looking at her for the first time since they met in the store. She pulls down her sunglasses, and blinks in the sudden light. Tipsy or no, her gaze is as sharp as ever. Then she sighs.

“Tell you what. You tell me what drove you to buy 37 pints of ice cream, and I tell you what the lighter fluid is for.” 

_______________

“It’s really not a big deal,” Kara is saying, as they enter the elevator to Lena’s office, her hands finally relaxing from the white knuckled fists they’d been in for most of the drive. If Lena crashes the car, Kara should be fast enough to keep everyone safe if she’s paying attention. I mean. If anything made drunk driving safe it’s having Supergirl in the passenger’s seat, right? “It’s not like I almost got blown up.” 

Kara cringes at her own words— sweet rao why did she SAY that— but Lena only shrugs. “Seems like it matters to you.” 

Kara doesn’t have much of a rebuttal to that. “Yeah. It does, I guess.” 

“Kara?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“Oh! Right. Alex and I argued.” It seems such a silly complaint now, standing next to Lena.

“What about?” Lena asks, pressing a fob to the elevator key. 

Kara pauses, searching for the right words. “I… did something… risky. At work.” Lena meets her eyes with a smile. 

“Kara Danvers? Do something risky in the pursuit of journalistic truth? Never.” 

Kara laughs, but the laughter fades quickly. “Alex was investigating the same thing I was. And she… uhh. Didn’t like my methods.” 

“Didn’t like you putting yourself at risk?”

“No. And today— today maybe came a little bit closer than I would have liked. But my plan worked! And nobody was hurt!”

“But you scared Alex.”

Kara sighed. “But I scared Alex.” The doors of the elevator open, and Lena pulls the bleach out of her shopping bag. “Sometimes I just feel like— I don’t know. Like she won’t let me be my own person. Like she’s so scared I’m going to get myself hurt that she won’t let me take a step on my own. Like she doesn’t trust me to. She’s always looked after me ever since I arrived. To the Danvers, I mean.” 

Lena blinks. “You’re adopted?” 

_______________

The smell of wine grows stronger when Lena opens her office door, and Kara tracks it to the large  purple stain that has spread across the white rug by the desk. Kara looks at Lena in question and Lena lifts the bottle of bleach with a guilty smile. 

_______________

“Have you ever bleached a rug before?” 

“No, but it can’t be that hard. You just. Like. Soak it, right?” 

“I guess? Don’t you need to dilute it?” 

“Please. This isn’t even lab grade. It can’t be that bad.” 

_______________

Ten minutes later, once they have thrown the now faintly smoking rug down the incinerator chute (Of course, I have an incinerator in my office. I run experiments, Kara), Kara finally asks, “So, you were going to tell me about the lighter fluid?” 

“Ah! Yes. Would you grab the rope? We need to bind these papers.” 

Lena doesn’t elaborate further until they’ve taken the old bags and stacks of papers and journals downstairs and out to the little park across the street from L-Corp. Or, well, Kara carries most of it as Lena struggles with her single bag. When Lena has her breath back she pants, “You’ve been holding out on me Danvers. What else do you have hiding under those cardigans of yours?” 

“Me?” Kara feels her face heat as she chokes out, “Nothing! Nothing hiding. I mean. My shirt.” 

Lena laughs like Kara’s said the funniest joke in the world and Kara relaxes. She should be more careful about lifting things. Alex would kill her if Lena found out she was Supergirl. Come to think of it Alex would kill her if she heard that Kara was alone in the park, at night, with Lena Luthor. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you have some compulsion that drags you to the nearest near-death opportunity?” 

Kara hefts the papers. Alex can suck it. 

“So, umm. What are all these?” She asks, depositing her stacks by Lena’s bag. 

“My brother’s things form the L-Corp office. Apparently, he left behind some items last time he was here. Notes, Photos, and the like. Nobody claimed them after Metropolis, so they just sat in the office cabinet. The ones the police didn’t confiscate anyway.” 

“Oh,” Kara says, eloquently. “And you wanted to do a… midnight de-clutter?” 

“Yeah.” Lena says, with a satisfied nod. “I’m gonna set it on fire.” 

“Wait, what?” 

But Lena is already grabbing rocks and arranging them in a tight ring, dropping a few journals at the center. “Would you pass me the lighter fluid?” She asks, before taking a large chug from a carton of boxed wine Kara had not realized Lena brought with her. She passes over the lighter fluid anyway. 

Lena sets about appropriately drenching the journals, takes another large gulp of wine (Kara scoots forward, hiding the other cartons behind the pile of paper.) then reaches into the bag. She freezes, then pats her pockets. “Damn!” She says, “I forgot to get matches.” She casts an eye across the park. “I suppose I’ll just have to make a spark.” 

Kara doesn’t know much about fire-starting technique, and the practiced way Lena moves suggests she does, so Kara doesn’t really move while Lena spins a small twig into a log. She succeeds in creating a small flame… which promptly goes out as Lena attempts to bring it closer to the soaked journal kindling. After several more attempts with the stick and a string of curses Kara isn’t sure are entirely in English, Kara bends over a pair of rocks and pretends to start sparking them. After a moment the campfire goes up in a roaring flame and Kara pretends to blink away the smoke while her eyes stop glowing. 

Lena beams at her. “You get more interesting by the moment, Kara Danvers. A veritable outdoorswoman.” 

Ears burning, Kara says, “Alex taught me.” And then, unfortunately, opens her mouth again. “She really likes explosives.” Dear god WHY— But Lena just nods like that’s a perfectly normal thing to say. Maybe it is in the Luthor house. Or maybe Lena’s just too drunk to know the difference. 

She tosses in a small paper pouch and the flames flash a brilliant, rippling green. Lena smiles. Her eyes reflect the fire like shining emeralds.  

  Kara feels a little dizzy. She’s hot again and she begins to sweat. She looks at the fading green flames again. Kryptonite? Lex is the kind of guy who would just have little baggies of powdered kryptonite in storage. What does she do now? Is this what Alex had been worried about? Kara begins to panic, before Lena picks up another paper sachet and whips it into the flames. Which promptly spark blue. 

“Copper.” Lena says when she catches Kara’s eye, a twinkling smile. “We used to mix up chemicals for homemade fireworks. Lillian would get so angry. Apparently smelling like sulfer and smoke is unbefitting of a Luthor.” She bends over the pile of packets and Kara hears, “Ooh! Potassium Chloride!” before the flames turn purple. 

And because Kara can never leave well enough alone, she says, “I am sorry, you know, about Lex.”

Lena stills with her back to Kara. 

“Why? Nothing changed for me today. He’s a homicidal madman. That isn’t new. I feel more sympathy for all the people caught up in that attack at the foundry across town.” 

“He was still your brother,” Kara says. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess that’s just how it is with siblings.” Lena replies. “You let them in close, they teach you everything you need to know, and then, when you least expect it, they stab you in the back.” She throws the last of the sachets into the fire. “Or blow you up.” 

And then, to Kara’s horror, Lena begins to cry. She turns away from the fire, hurriedly wiping away the tears from her face. She sniffs loudly, and laughs. 

“And, you know, I know it’s silly,” Lena says, voice trembling.“But I really thought he loved me.” 

“That’s not silly, Lena.” 

“Isn’t it? He’s done all these terrible things. This is— what? His fourth time trying to kill me? And even here, now, I look at these old notes and the only thing I can think about is when we used to sit in the treehouse and he’d tell me all about his latest projects.”

Kara picks up a photo from the pile. It’s old. Lena is probably around ten here. Lex still has his hair, a floppy early 2000s hairdo that looks almost comical knowing the man now. They’re playing chess. Lena is staring at the board, chewing on her lip with rapt focus, but Lex is looking at Lena. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. It almost looks like pride. 

“My family— My birth family were complicated people. And some of them did things that I could never understand.” Kara thinks of Astra’s wild eyes, of Non standing proud and cold before Ft. Rozz, her mother’s hologram. “I could spend the rest of my life trying to find what I could have done, what I should have said to change their mind.” Kara flicks the photo into the fire. “Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough. Sometimes they go places you can’t follow.” 

“Humans are just pathetic creatures I suppose. All of us chasing after useless things.” Lena says, and she tosses a pile of papers into the fire. Old calculations, landscape sketches, and notes fizzle as they hit the flames, sending sparks out across the grass. 

“There’s nothing pathetic about loving someone, Lena. Even if it does nothing but hurt.” 

Lena doesn’t respond, busying herself untying papers to burn. Kara stares at her a moment, a hundred somethings on her tongue, and then she hears something whistling in the distance. 

“Are those sirens?” 

“Run!”  ___________

They sprint around the last alley corner and stop, panting. (Both of them, this time. Kara’s getting really good at this fake exercising thing!) 

“I can’t hear them anymore,” Kara says. “I think we’re good.” Kara can actually still hear them, but they’re going the opposite direction, so that should be good enough. She and Lena stand in silence for a moment, both breathing heavily. They make eye contact. And burst out laughing.

“Oh my god!” Lena giggles, “Oh, I haven’t done this since boarding school.” 

“What kind of boarding school did you go to?” Kara asks in alarm.

“The expensive kind.” Lena says, slyly. And was she always standing so close? 

“It’s late.” Kara hears herself saying. “You should probably get yourself home.” 

“Probably,” Lena agrees. 

They stand there frozen, nose to nose in the alley, and Kara has that feeling again. Like there’s something there on the tip of her tongue. Like she should say something. Do something.  And then two cats flings themselves out of the dumpster next to them with an awful yowling and they spring apart. 

Lena clears her throat, straightening her dress. “Well, it’s very late. We should probably get back to the office. I need to drive you back home after all.” 

Kara does convince Lena to call a cab this time, but they don’t speak for the rest of the car ride.

Lena pauses at Kara’s door. 

“Thank you, for coming with me tonight. Not many people would help a Luthor with an unsanctioned nighttime bonfire.” 

“I’m not most people.” 

“No. No, I don’t get the impression you are,” Lena says with a wry laugh. “And don’t think I’m going to forget about you carrying down all those papers. Best be on your guard Ms. Danvers, or I’ll start calling you to help bring in all of the legal documents I have to wade through.” 

“You could, you know.” What is she saying? Why can’t she ever just shut her mouth— “Call me, I mean.” 

Lena smiles. “I might just take you up on that.” 

When Lena has gone and Kara has shut the door behind her, Kara slumps down onto the floor. 

Oh. Oh, Alex is going to hate this. 

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Author Ask Tag

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

Even if I had a lesson in mind, and I'm not saying I had, I would probably bite my tongue off before stating it on this beautiful website. Also, the people who actually read my stuff are not the ones who would need said hypothetical lesson. But mainly, I don't choose the story, the story chooses me.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

All my stories are set in the same world, because a) I dislike worldbuilding so I'm only doing that once and b) I like having little cameos of other characters. Said world was hugely inspired by video games, especially guild wars 2. Some things fit video games more than novels - somehow carrying too many coins than reasonably possible, bandits as soon as you leave a town, a made-up reason for a common language, and a continent that's honestly way too small, to name a few.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Well, my MC(s) just want to live a normal, peaceful life, despite all the horrors I chuck at them, and I want to cry a bit about said horrors and then watch them achieve their dreams. The thing I want most is for someone who usually doesn't see some aspects of themselves in fiction to recognize themselves, and for someone who feels as lonely and out of place as I do to find a bit of comfort.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

All of our Lives has 32 chapters, one of which is the prologue. I do not expect this to change.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

It's original content, and I will put it as ebook and pdf on my website, elli-scribbles.net. I used to post on Tumblr, but I am not happy with the loss of control that came with the new post editor, and there is some content I am most definitely not comfortable posting on any place I do not have full control over.

When did you start writing?

I started this draft at the beginning of May 2024, and I finished it just over 6 months later in the middle of November 2024. Taking my time with this one and aiming to have it done for release in May. I'm not gonna add yet another 'oh, always!!' here, because I can't remember shit, hence project specific, though I could pinpoint a "new start" in September 2021 when I started writing in English.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

If I am fully honest, I am not particularly encouraged myself. I haven't been in a good place in months, at any given moment I am five seconds away from bursting into tears, and I feel like one big failure. So uh: The internet is a scary place. Find a friend who matches your freak, stick them in your pocket, and don't ever let them go. Write for yourself only got me so far, I needed someone to scream with me.

Not tagging you to do this, just tagging you because I love you @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @pleasestaywithmedarling @alittlewhump @sarandipitywrites @little-peril-stories @honeycollectswhump @writingphoenix

You should also look at @leahnardo-da-veggie @whumpyreader @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-me @lovelizards whose stuff I enjoyed recently and also ofc @the-inkwell-variable who mentioned me and @winterandwords whose open tag I stole :)

[marlynnofmany]

Hey artists, sign your art. When I save a picture because it's beautiful and I want to look at it again later, I'd love to remember who drew it. I save things for years. If I see something else amazing by the same artist later, I'll be delighted!

But if I don't know who drew it, then that's just one more mystery of the internet.

[svnflowermoon]

y'all go from being feminists to tearing these women down within seconds oh my god it's 2024 can we please stop viciously tearing one woman down to bring another up i don't care what side you take but saying vile shit about either woman and their music is disgusting, please grow up

[disposal-blueeee]

doodles

edgar vargas and squee by johnen vasquez

scriabin by zarla-s

[vaguely-concerned]

I think rye thinks it's incredibly adorable of davrin to be worried about him after the accidental hallucination tea experiment. that stoic option 'you know, I lived a whole life before you' contains a world of 'davrin, I'm a mourn watcher with a severely misspent youth behind me. I've been stratospherically high on things you couldn't and probably wouldn't want to imagine, this is barely a tickle'. to me.

[buttercupshands]

Somehow even thinking about isat and mha brings unpleasant memories and thoughts

Like "oh maybe I'll draw for it" and poof brain slowly just turns off and wants nothing to do with it

Weird!

[theswedishpajas]

You are walking away from Beetlecoon?? Leaving Beetlecoon petless??? Jail for breather! Jail for breather for One Thousand Years!!!!!

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

[ichthyorelationships]

ideas: i didn't really think of him being underwater but they deserve to have drama by crying there too so i just think you could say something about the composition being denser than water or w/e. proteins

i'm always like good thing he didn't try to exit asap via swimming in ciao alberto But What If He Did lol. just swim Somewhere else along the coast, maybe panic about [money??] & whether somehow this ruins school for luca, whether he can get in touch w/o it being On Sight b/w him & all marcovaldos, consider just kind of trying out other places, traveling after all...fascinating considering the other povs on the issue like: now there's the paguros to sympathize w/a kid vanishing, luca however in a somewhat more novel position there, giulia's throwback to alberto being a bit perplexing lmao, kind of thinking the best massimo could do is have a prewritten letter for luca to give to alberto If Possible, conveying something like i know you didn't set my livelihood on fire on purpose but even if you did i'd want you to stay. and luca in a position to do all of "maybe give the island fun facts so someone can check if he's there" & "wait & hope alberto can/does get in touch" & "have a lot of feelings"....not even the context of what this drawing is about necessarily, just tacking it on here anyways. ahead of time i went "heh now i Know they're gonna have it get little Real here b/c it's really about alberto wanting the security of feeling he can 'earn' a sustained relationship" then the short cleared & i was lying completely dead on the pavement

[termagax]

like ronnies wuest is ALSO really really good but you basically get to say to her everything i wanted to say. about it not being her fault and about how much i love her and want her to be free and live her own life and not tie herself to a sinking ship forever. girl i love you sometimes your family is determined to wallow in the mud but YOU dont have to. but like you get to tell her that straight up. the combo of not getting to say everything i want to say + arcade LEAVING ME FOREVER. SOMETHING I DID NOT KNOW WOULD HAPPEN. just leaves me with this big aching arcade gannon shaped hole in my heart that will never be filled by anything else as long as i am on this earth. i get to go back to my apartment every night and go HONEY IM HOME and kiss veronica on the mouth. i wont see arcade again for months and months and months of in game time. and i miss him dearly.