#'yeah and how many times have you made out with my daughter what's your point' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strawberrymochin · 9 days ago

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old.

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face.

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you.

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom.

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word.

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?”

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.”

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name.

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.”

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games.

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur.

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you.

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school.

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind.

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you.

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry.

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes.

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then.

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench.

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him.

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind.

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours.

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him.

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight.

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat.

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk.

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him.

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number.

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class.

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone.

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you.

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours.

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change.

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school.

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room.

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat.

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag.

You flinched.

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze.

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently.

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.”

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy.

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace.

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others.

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away.

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining.

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious.

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you.

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse.

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection.

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found.

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18.

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him.

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?”

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass.

“Should visit him then.”

“Forget it.”

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused.

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.”

“Did yaga find out about this?”

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete.

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento.

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to—

“Find a new one.”

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?”

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.”

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes.

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe.

“Sup!”

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do.

“All good?”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Just a little favour.”

“And what that might be?”

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.”

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.”

“Yes please…”

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.”

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.”

“Sure.”

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home.

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.”

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind.

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you.

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?”

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’.

“I'm—”

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.”

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him.

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes.

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club.

“So…you're the only one?”

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…”

You humm, taking a proper look at the club.

“You like it?”

“It has vibrant colours.”

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?”

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.”

“you do originals?”

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.”

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you.

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?”

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.”

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.”

“Oh.”

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter.

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.”

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?”

“Err…no.”

“I can teach you.”

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you.

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms.

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings.

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.”

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it.

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart.

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes.

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks.

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips.

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch.

He quickly leaves your hand.

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile.

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence.

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes.

“For that I might need your number—”

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you.

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.”

“Kky!”

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave.

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.”

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably.

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.”

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway.

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!”

He waved back to you.

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left.

“nothing.”

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it.

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members.

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him.

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.”

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?”

“Y-yes.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently.

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving.

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time.

His heart fluttered at the thought.

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!”

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds.

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set.

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins.

Will you be cheering too?

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience.

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music.

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him.

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it.

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform.

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him.

The still air felt electric as he approached you.

“you liked the show?”

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance.

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.”

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.”

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—”

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines.

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of.

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out.

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you.

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.”

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt.

Your heart practically jolts at his action.

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position.

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway.

“In the downtown.”

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?”

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.”

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.”

You turn your face from the window to look at him.

“What?”

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.”

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.”

“Why not!”

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes.

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain.

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for.

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted.

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life.

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care.

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special.

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…”

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder.

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.”

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break.

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other.

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes.

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts.

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.”

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.”

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—”

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others.

Satoru points at you.

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.”

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?”

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “

“What do you think of gojo?”

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red.

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face.

“A-a nice friend.”

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications.

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?”

Yura shrugged.

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt.

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered.

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face.

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm.

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy.

“About gojo being interested in you…”

“I-i don't think so.”

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.”

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again.

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.”

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him.

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home.

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor.

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset?

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber.

You lied to him.

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line.

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table.

“Nothing.”

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal.

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him.

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.”

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine.

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room.

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you.

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall, pinning you caging your body.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Gojo you're hurting m—”

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?”

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—”

“why?”

“Don't pretend like you don't know…”

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.”

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.”

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest.

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—”

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly.

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago.

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile.

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm.

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip.

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?”

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm.

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well.

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud.

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness.

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.”

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit.

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit.

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers.

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you.

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…”

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside.

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru.

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry.

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck.

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed.

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum.

You gape at his girth.

It was big.

And fucking thick.

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in.

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size.

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him.

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?”

You were at a loss for words.

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard.

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him.

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss.

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—”

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—”

Thrust

“do you—”

Thrust

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans.

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall.

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…”

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins.

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair.

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall.

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you.

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise.

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.”

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.”

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.”

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.”

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours.

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year ago

Text

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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tojikai · 1 year ago

Text

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway.

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be.

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel.

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat.

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house. You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.” He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms.

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.”

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son. And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes.

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can.

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about.

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched.

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed.

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events.

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship.

None of it was worth it.

—--------------------------------------------------

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you.

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship.

—------------------------------------------

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again.

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today.

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie.

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?”

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning.

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him.

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you.

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you.

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm.

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.”

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from.

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck.

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him.

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it.

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N.

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.” There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful.

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.”

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before.

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

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#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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xiaq · 5 days ago

Note

Did you ever work in customer service? You give off been-in-the-trenches-and-are-better-for-it vibes.

Hi, this is slightly unhinged, but thank you!!

Now you're going to get the story of how I was offered a job on the spot for the first ever position I ever interviewed for (which was, indeed, customer service).

Okay, so, I'm 15, my birthday is in two days, and HEB (Texas grocery store) is hiring baggers for $7 an hour and cashiers for a whole whopping $10 an hour. Cashiers have to have prior experience OR have to work as a bagger for a year first. But I am full of teenage verve and I want that cashier position. I want it now.

I show up on my motorcycle, so I'm in my "professional" outfit but carrying my helmet when I enter the hiring manager's office, which really sets the tone for how things proceed.

The interviewer is like, "how old are you?" and babyface mcgee me, five foot tall and all of 90lbs says, "Fifteen. But I'm sixteen in two days."

And he's like, "...we can't hire you if you're fifteen."

And I'm like, "bet, but you can get the paperwork started now, yeah?"

And he says, "wait, how did you drive a motorcycle here if you're 15?"

So the first 5 minutes of the interview turn into me showing him my license, explaining DMV rules re 15-yr-olds and permitted engine size for motorcycles and pointing out my bike in the parking lot.

"Okay," he says, clearly trying to rally. "So you have a method of transportation, that's great, but we can't consider you for the cashier job if you don't have experience. We can only consider you as a bagger."

I'm prepared for this. I lay out my most recent report card, as well as copies of the sports and academic awards I've achieved in the last year. I give my "I'm a fast learner, I'm a hard worker, and you'll benefit more from me working as a cashier, interacting with customers, than a bagger" speech. I've been buying groceries at this store my whole life, so I know that cashiers are ranked by how many 'Item of the Week' they manage to hawk at checkout (typically batteries or soda or chips). "I'll be top of the ranking for Item of the week, just you wait."

I think he is reluctantly charmed by my bull-headedness. "Okay,” he says, reaching for the can of coke on his desk. "Fine. Sell this to me, then. Right now."

This man is mid-forties. He has bad handmade artwork hung up on his office wall.

"Do you have kids?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Two," he says. "Boy and a girl. The girl is just a year younger than you, actually."

"Ah," I say, "is it getting harder and harder to connect with her? Monosyllabic answers? Spends all her time in her room."

"...yes," he says.

“I was the same,” I say somberly. “Until, one afternoon, my dad came into my room and handed me a Coke.”

I tap my fingers on the Coke in front of me.

“He told me to come share a drink with him while he grilled on the back porch and that once I’d finished my Coke I could crawl, hissing, back to my room, but he wanted company until then. And see, I did, actually, want to spend time with my dad. I just didn’t know how to initiate it, and my teenage hormones made it difficult for me to express that. So I took the Coke and stomped my way outside but once I was there, I drank it slowly. And I answered his questions about school and cheerleading and asked him about work and we planned a weekend father-daughter motorcycle trip into the hill country. And ever since then, every few days, he’ll come to my room and offer me a Coke, and I’ll spend half an hour drinking it in his company.”

I slide the coke across the desk to him. “Might be an approach to try with your daughter, what do you think?”

He catches the Coke automatically. He sighs.

"Yeah, alright," he says. "Cashier job is yours. Come back in two days when you're actually sixteen and we'll get your paperwork sorted out." I worked there for the rest of high school and I was, typically, top of the rankings for selling Items of the Week the entire duration.

Entirely unrelated, I hate coke. I don’t drink soda, and the only beverage my dad has ever shared with me on the back porch is a margarita. But he didn’t need to know that.

#Lol #Shout out to all the folks in the customer service trenches #Storytime #mylife #If I had nothing else I had the audacity

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

Text

Leaving VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your schedules don't match

You love Alexia.

You were only little when your father died. You didn't quite understand it.

Your father was a football fan, a big Barcelona supporter so all of his daughters got taken to games with him.

Alba was never that into sports, even just watching them.

Alexia was definitely sporty. You think she was what your father really wanted. She plays football and she adores it.

Your father was already sick by the time you were born. He was already struggling but he still took you to matches. It didn't click with you like it did with Alexia but he could still some athletic speck in you.

He took you to a tennis match instead. He'd never had much interest in tennis but he seemed to know what would appeal to you. You were tiny and Mama had been worried that you wouldn't be able to sit through a match.

But you did.

You sat through a whole match and fell in love then and there.

You were still little though and your father was still sick but he took you to as many lessons as he could.

He was a football fan but he could learn tennis for you.

He never could in the end, not when he died so suddenly.

But then Alexia took over. She didn't understand tennis and she still doesn't understand but she took you to every lesson and went to every match.

You just wish she understood the difference in your schedules.

She was getting ready for another round of Euro qualifiers even though Spain had already qualified. You were at Wimbledon, trading shots with Iga on the practice courts.

"Have you called your sister yet?" She asks, sitting down next to you as you guzzle down your water.

You roll your eyes. "In a minute."

"Do it now."

"What are you? One of my sisters?"

You're teasing her.

Iga is the world number one, by a lot of points. You sit just outside of the top ten. It's a little annoying, your own inconsistency. You can pull it out of the bag during big matches like Grand Slams but you suffer a bit in some of the less grand tournaments.

You're officially the youngest player this tour so you know you're getting babied by some of the other players, Iga especially.

You hadn't thought she had even known who you were until your coach told you she was the one who pushed him to take you on.

She thought you were on your way to being one of the greats.

She also thought you would make a great doubles partner one day.

It was different moving to Poland, away from your Mama and your sisters but Iga made it easy.

She was easy-going and you practically lived at her place so, yeah, you guess she took the more sisterly role in your life with Alexia and Alba at home in Spain.

"Go and call your sister," Iga laughs, spraying you with her bottle until you shriek and run off," And grab me a protein bar or something!"

You roll your eyes but head off, pulling out your phone to video call your sister.

It rings for barely a second.

"Hi Jenni," You say," Can you give Alexia back her phone? I need to talk to her."

"You don't want to talk to me, mini Putellas? I'm offended!"

"If I wanted to talk to you, I'd have called you!"

Jenni laughs before Alexia appears on screen, snatching the phone away from her ex.

"How are you?" Alexia asks, cramming her face onto the screen.

"I'm good!" You laugh," You look good too. Covered in sweat."

"You can talk," Alexia teases back," Have you just had a workout?"

"Practice pitch with Iga," You say," We've got matches coming up."

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean?"

"We've got matches in the next few days. It's Wimbledon, remember?"

Alexia shakes her head. "No. That was last year."

"It happens every year, Ale," You remind her," Me and Iga are competing and then it's a quick turnaround for the Olympics."

Alexia's frowning. "No, because I've got a match on the twelfth. You're flying out with Mama and Alba."

"The Wimbledon final is on the thirteenth. I need to stay."

"What?"

"Iga's out and I've got a real chance. I could really do it."

"But...What about my match?"

"What about mine?" You counter with a sigh," Ale, our schedules just don't match this time. I'm sorry."

"But..."

It's clear to the other girls in the room that Alexia's getting a bit distressed as her mouth opens and closes as she tries to formulate a response.

"But..."

"Listen, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Hey, wait-"

You put the phone down and Alexia just stares down at it, frozen as she looks at your profile picture.

"What's up with the long face?" Jenni pokes her in the cheek. "You're more frowny than usual."

"Nothing. I just...My sister can't come to the game."

"Well, duh, Alexia. She's got Wimbledon to win. She can't just fly out to us."

"I know but..." She blows out all her air. "Never mind. I'm just...I'm gonna go."

When you were little, Alexia tried to go to as many of your matches as she could manage. Sometimes she would come straight from her own games, still in full kit to catch your last ten minutes or so.

It was difficult but it worked.

You've gone professional now and branched out, travelling the world to take part in tournaments and games so you can work your way up and become the world number one.

She shouldn't be upset about you missing her match and her missing yours because that's just how sports work. So many went on at the same time that it was impossible to make every match but, still, a deep pit forms in Alexia's stomach as she thinks about missing your final.

Across the world, you prepare.

You practice on the courts with Iga and your coach. You eat well. You sleep well. You watch Alexia's match on the tv and wish you could be there but Alexia's no longer the only athlete in the family.

She had her career and you have yours.

Paolini is who you face in the final and she keeps you on your toes the entire time. She hits hard and fast and you go one set down immediately.

You pull it back though, managing to equalise the next set and then it's all to play for.

You take a few gasping breaths as you guzzle down your water, leaning back in your seat.

You look up at your box, where your family is watching.

Mama is there, of course, and so is Alba. Alba looks incredibly bored. You know she only comes to the tennis because of you and you're glad she's trying to be supportive but she truly looks like she's about to fall asleep in her seat.

Mama looks much more engaged. She'd told you once that she preferred the pace of tennis to football. There was less risk of injuries in tennis, no one around to slide tackle you or crash into you.

The most harm your opponent could do was smash a ball into your face and that rarely happened. Sure, you could slip and fall but it's not like footballers didn't do that too.

Out of the two sports her daughters played, Mama always found herself calmer at the tennis.

Mama waves at you and nudges Alba in the ribs so she can look up from her phone to wave too.

Your brows draw together in confusion.

There's an empty seat between them and you can't understand why.

So, you just kind of stare as you puzzle out who could be sitting there.

It's not until she comes back, with two beers and a hotdog that you realise who is filling that seat.

She looks exhausted. You can tell even through those stupid big sunglasses and the even stupider hat she's wearing.

She must have gone straight from her match to the airport to get here in time and crashed in Mama and Alba's room to keep it all a secret.

So, Alexia sits in her seat and you grab your racket.

You've got a set to win.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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chuluoyi · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 . . . 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! — untold tales

first of all, thank you so so much for those who have read the deposed empress series! i can't thank you all enough—i'm blown away with all your kind words!! <3

and so, what is this? there are actually many little details i've had in mind for this au, but i can't write them all down bc there are just too many and writing up to 9-10k isn't usually my cup of tea :') this is more or less my little notes i held onto while writing the empress series, and i don't want to discard it so with this, i'll be clearing several plot holes you might've found throughout all hail the empress, the crown of diamonds and long live the empire :D

who is the infertile one, naoya or the empress?

truth is... none of them! :D both of them are perfectly healthy, and as of why the empress couldn't conceive while she was still with naoya... well, that has a lot to do with fate and god's blessing HAHA

official explanation *cough* — the empress feels oppressed in eastern empire, naoya isn't being kind to her as of late, and actually, she has a delicate body more than most... so despite being healthy and all, that kind of environment won't support any conception 💁🏻‍♀️

hanabi's children paternity

continuing from point above... naoya is the true biological father of hanabi's daughter and son :) this is my aim since the beginning -> how ironic and pitiful is it that he casts his own flesh and blood away? the main point of zen'in naoya's arc is to obtain his own heir, and yet once he does, he stupidly has them locked and about to be punished

has naoya ever loved the empress?

no. but why was he so kind with her in the beginning, you ask? that's bc he regarded her as an equal. she was the best pick out of highborn ladies in her time, famous for her talents, pretty too, and he deemed her worthy to become his wife. but later, naoya fell out of respect with her since she couldn't produce an heir

but on the contrary, the empress was in love with him, at least during her youth

what is the argument between gojo and empress in part 2 about?

gojo has long wanted to decimate naoya and his empire (no particular justification for this, that's just what emperors do :') let's leave it at that), but it's true that seeing how the empress is wronged while she was married to naoya fuels the fire. gojo may be biased bc he is so in love with the empress, but in his eyes, it's so unacceptable

the empress is suspicious that gojo is only using her after the ending scene of part 1. and she overhears geto's words (“No, Satoru. You are just using her. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”), and so she is even more convinced that he's just planning to use her so... yeah, an argument ensues :')

in gojo's pov, empress saving megumi and hanabi means she is doing it out of (lingering?) love for naoya, as he knows that she used to be in love with him. in empress' pov, gojo is finding excuse to wage a war, and with the cursed necklace incident, he has found a right justification to do so

why did naoya send the necklace as a gift to the empress after everything? what happens to it afterwards? does he know what hanabi did?

you know, actually... if it isn't obvious by now, everything naoya does in this series is unreliable :') to put it simply, he's a bit mad ever since empress ditches him for gojo—his pride is so wounded and he's becoming erratic day by day

while looking at the his coronation portrait, he might feel some kind of twisted sense of regret-like emotions (i said "-like" bc he is not right in the head), and then he remembers that he still has that necklace with him, so he might as well get rid of it. it's totally not out of love at all! :D

after hanabi tampered with the necklace and imbued it with a curse from god knows where... gojo of course has it destroyed 💁🏻‍♀️ and naoya doesn't know any of this bc this matter is not made public by the western empire (after the empress' involvement in concealing the evidence), and neither megumi or hanabi want to risk naoya's wrath so they don't bring it to his attention. more like, they don't know how he'll react, and if he throws a fit then it'll be a headache so yeah he must be kept in the dark

still, megumi resents hanabi for what she did, that's why later, he has a hand in banishing hanabi to duke kamo's household :)))

hanabi's doomed fate explained

hanabi was a former maid to the kamo household and they're famous for their cruelty. as of what they've done to her... well, you can imagine all sorts of cruel scenarios and that will be it :) things get better when choso takes over, but still... hanabi still has nightmares from it

so what happened to her? basically, gojo's line in part 3 here: "Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."

working together with geto, megumi and choso, gojo orchestrated the whole dumpster fire to make naoya and hanabi fall from grace. first, he digs hanabi's background, and after knowing it, he makes a deal with choso—zen'ins have usurped the throne from the kamos and a new plaything is always welcome so he easily agrees, and then megumi... he complies bc he knows everything is in shambles in eastern empire anyway and he hates hanabi too for cursing the empress, so he helps in spreading the false information about hanabi's children not being of naoya's blood and slips choso's blood in the paternity testing naoya conducts... and yeah, they all have him fooled and hanabi is kicked out that instant

and comes the main event: naoya's stroke is also choso pulling the strings :D so in other words, this is also their plan to dethrone him altogether and install megumi to the throne. the "kindness" megumi shows hanabi is also a part of their plan, as he sends her right back to choso

in conclusion, emperor gojo is actually a cruel, cruel person :) he designs this elaborate plan to take down those who dared to touch his empress...

final note

there are many inspirations for this series if you look closer -> the manhwa remarried empress (part 1-2), queen of tears & queen charlotte: bridgerton story (part 3). i tried my best to add my own twist in all three parts, but again, writing is a form of art and we're leaning towards things that are familiar to us to write :D after all, it's just fanfics... we're free to put them in any situation ;)

it has been such a fun ride to write this series :') again, thank you so much for giving my stories a chance🩵 i never expected for so many to interact, and you all truly make my day!! if i'm going to be honest, writing here isn't always fun... but seeing your asks, comments and tags really is the reason why i'm not giving up writing here :'D and i'm saying this not for me but also on behalf of all writers out there—whenever you drop by with a long analysis/tags/comments for our fics, we're so so beyond happy to read it!!! :) so thank you, and please continue to do so if you can <3

#series: the deposed empress remarries

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neteyamsilly · 2 years ago

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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therobotmonster · 3 months ago

Text

The Fae Thought He Had Her, but She's Had Lots of Practice

Actual Title: "On Foreign Soil."

The fae was having a grand old time with his latest toy. Mortals were easily befuddled with the magic of contract-and-courtesy. He'd taken pretty much all he could from the family: several names, the mother's attention, the son's concept of friendship... Even the life of the father.

He'd taken that one taking just the right moment of his time, the one where he moved just out of the oncoming car's path. That also took out the youngest daughter and making a new neverwas to lurk in the pockets of lost time around the home.

The tricks made him strong. The sense of betrayal and regret humans had when they realized how screwed they truly were was like honey: rich, sweet, and immune to spoilage. If anything, in the last sixty-some-odd years he'd been home the humans had gotten more petulant and even easier to trick.

It was a veritable buffet.

So when the eldest daughter returned home from college, he expected her to be easy pickings. The young were always foolish and prideful, and very often rude. They gave him so many opportunities.

So when she threw open the door, and stared at him with cold green eyes, he immediately laughed in delight. His face took on a distinctively 'David Bowiesq' aspect, a trick he found worked well the last time he'd been to the mortal lands.

"Oh, hello. May I have your name, lass?" He cooed in a cocky-yet-soothing voice.

"My name is Alex, and no." She said.

He raised a brow. She was canny, or at least half-canny. She knew enough to object to him taking it. Still, she had answered, and by the laws of the fae, the latter objection did not override the former offer.

So why wasn't he Alex now?

It was odd, but sometimes mortals were a little resistant to magic. He worried for a moment she was a skeptic, but she couldn't be. Her response meant she knew, or at least suspected, what he was. Moreover, he didn't feel the painful chill and sluggishness empiressence caused, nor the crushing weight of the explicable upon his bird-hollow bones.

No, she was just lucky, or was carrying an iron horseshoe, nothing he couldn't handle in his, or someone else's sleep.

"And what the fuck are you calling yourself, asshole?"

He blinked.

The impudence hit him like a slap. She'd just given him the opening to do anything he wanted, but the raw temerity of the insult, it's artless crudeness, it's utter lack of respect stunned him too much to enjoy it. His rage and petulance rushed into the hole left by his shock, and he sputtered.

"You rude little beast, you have no idea what you've brought upon yourself!"

He raised one pale hand, the flesh fading from it to leave nothing but blackened bone, and he pointed the index finger at her in a silent gesture. He let fly his curse. Not just any curse, but his, the one he had made for just such an occasion.

Alex stared at him. Arms crossed. Her hair was the color of the fae's own rage.

"What's the matter, cat got your brain?"

The fae's confidence wavered and the flesh returned to his hand.

"Where are the spiders?" He said. "There... there ought to be spiders! There should be spiders!"

She rolled her eyes.

"You broke the laws of courtesy and decorum! I can do as I please as a wronged noble! You should be spiders!"

"Whose laws?" It was Alex's turn to smile.

"Why, the only ones that matter, the laws of Faerie, as laid down by Oberon and Tita-"

"And Titsforbrains, yeah. I was five once and I can read. I know your dumb politics. Slight problem. Where are you now?"

"The mortal realm?"

"More specifically?"

"The Earth. The United States."

"Exactly." Alex smiled. "And while you might come the land of the platonic ideal of inbred nepobabies, in the United States of America, no law says I can't call a fuckface a fuckface. Fuckface."

The fae tried a different curse, yet Alex was not being twisted into any sort of goat, ironic or otherwise. "But, that doesn't matter! We're a higher form of being, our laws override yours."

"No they don't." Alex said with a confidence reserved for honey badgers and humans of age three. "Now undo all your bullshit and get out of my house."

"Nuh-uh!" The Fae's cocky smirk returned. With a flourish, he pulled out a deed. "It's my house, I got it off your mother, fair-and-square. She traded it for the heart your little brother so foolishly traded me. So you should get out of MY house."

"Contracts signed under duress are non-enforceable." She said in a bored, dismissive tone.

The Fae started to object, but the contract was already crumbling into dried daffodil petals in his hand. He tried to pretend this wasn't terrifying. Inexplicable happenings were supposed to be caused by him, not happen to him. "Are you a wizard?"

"Don't be stupid. I just know my rights." She said. "I'm betting you didn't disclose the full terms of the contracts either?"

The Fae shook his head, more from fear than as a response to the question. Of course he hadn't. If the mortals didn't do their due diligence and couldn't read Linear-B, that wasn't his fau-

The thirty years he stole from the youngest boy ripped themselves out of his body. A half dozen other deals began popping at the seams.

"How are you doing this?" He gasped.

"I'm not doing it. You are. You're idiot who runs on rules and laws who decided to come scam innocent people for your own profit and amusement."

"But it always worked before-" The Fae ran his mind through all his previous romps. Every single human had whined and begged about how unfair things were. Why was this one different?

He ran through those memories again. They were among his favorites so it was easy for him to see every detail. An old man trying to argue Fae law with him. A shepherd girl trying to use her own word games to trap him. A hippie saying almost the exact same words about non-enforceable contracts.

Almost.

He ran through the memories again and again. Always impressed or terrified or blinded by greed, the mortals always argued on his terms, always went back to his wording of the deal or contract, always appealed to the laws of his people and his own noble position.

None of them had ever argued jurisdiction. Once one of them had, it applied, not just now, not just to these toys, but retroactively, and, from how it felt, with interest.

"Oh." Was all the Fae could say.

"Yes. 'Oh.'" Alex smiled like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. "Children can't sign contracts, either, you know."

Everything the Fae had done to the boy snapped back at once. It felt like every seventh tendon in his body had been snipped simultaneously with tiny scissors.

"Nor can someone sign away the right to kill them to someone else, or sell themselves or others into slavery."

Alex's father reappeared in the living room, looking dazed. In his lap was Alex's youngest sister, now remembered by all present as a person that existed. The return of the father's moment was a minor loss, but there was one less neverwas in the Castle of Paradox, and the Baron would blame him for its unmaking.

"Also, names aren't transferable between people, nor are they the whole and sum of a person's identity in this country. The closest thing we have to that is a social security number. And if you steal one of those, well, identity theft is a crime here."

Mr. Baxter, Mrs. Baxter, Julie and Sam's lights all turned on at once, though they were still groggy and half-asleep and would be for hours to come.

A fortune in names, first, middle, last, with nicknames and pet-names and all between, all vanished from the Fae's purse. He could feel its lightness in his pocket.

The Fae turned on his heels. "I fear I must take my leave, so sorry for the inconvenience!"

He was halfway to the door. The impact on the back of his skull knocked him forward off his feet, sending him slamming into the polished wood floor. The projectile that laid him out bounced and landed by his head.

He'd been right about her having an iron horseshoe.

"You don't get to walk away." She said. He felt her steel-toed boot, soles made of entirely synthetic rubber and cleats of cold steel, press against the base of his spine. His hollow, bird-bone spine. "You don't get to fuck with people, say 'my bad' when you get caught, and run."

"Y-your law!" He gasped. He felt his bones cracking. He wanted to turn into something else but he couldn't focus. She was pressing down harder now, because she was half-kneeling. Her hand picked up the fallen horseshoe. "You have to let me go, or arrest me, turn me over to your police, right? You can't just murder me!"

"What are you?"

"I- I'm a Faerie of Arcadia, a sub-Prince of the House of-"

"So not a human. And not an animal." She kept him pinned.

"No!" He growled. Blood the color of an oil slick on the highway began to fill his mouth. The pain made him forget his fear for a moment, and he bared his true face, something between a bug, a wax store mannequin, and a pug-dog. "We-we're a higher form of life! Far beyond anything this miserable pile of dung you call a planet has to offer! You will pay for this impertinence the moment you break the law that holds me!"

"You're a lot of things. A bully, a pest, a liar. But you're not human. And you're not an animal. In fact, as far as the laws of this land are concerned, you aren't real."

Alex lifted her boot to kick him onto his back, then pinned him again.

"Th-then you can't kill me!" He laughs. "You can't kill something that's not real! You've trapped yourself! You'll have to let me go!"

"You haven't been to our 'pile of dung' in some time have you?" Alex asked. She nodded to a strange white book-shaped object that sat unopened, upright, next to the television, next to a pair of white and black crescent-moon shaped objects studded with small white and black buttons.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Six hours later, a notification popped up on Alex's dorm room computer.

#short story #short fiction #faerie folk #fae folk #contracts #fairy tale #fantasy fiction #writing by op #my writing #it's me boy I'm the ps5 #establishing legal precedent #to smash in your brain #listen to me boyyyy #there's no law against killing fictions

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theemporium · 4 months ago

Note

So excited and congratulations on the milestone!! May I please have a violet fluff 🍸 prompt #19 with the one and only Quinn 🫣

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

19. “If the Gods choose only to give us daughters, then I will gladly have as many as you’re willing to give me."

“Do you think about the future a lot?”

Quinn let out a contemplative hum. “In what way?”

You shrugged in response, your eyes glued to the sky above you. It had been Quinn’s idea to take the truck out after dinner. It was your first time spending the summer with him and his family in Michigan and he seemed eager to show you every little thing he missed about the lakehouse during the regular season when he was back in Vancouver. And you had been eager to see it all.

But the night sky was something Quinn never shut up about. He kept insisting it would be one of the best sights you would see, that it was nothing words or a camera could do justice, that you just had to see it with your own eyes.

So, after dinner, he had all but dragged you out to the truck and drove to his favourite spot. He laid out a bunch of blankets and pillows into the bed of the truck, handed you one of his hoodies he picked up on his way out of the house and happily laid down beside you.

And he was right—the night sky in Michigan, away from the city and light pollution, was absolutely fucking breathtaking.

You weren’t even sure how long the two of you had been lying in the truck, the summer night heat warm and comforting with the light breeze in the air. You swore you could have stayed in that moment for the rest of your life.

It made you wonder if these summer nights under the Michigan sky would be a familiar part of your future.

“Just the future,” you said eventually, tearing your eyes away from the sky to look at him. “Your career. Your brothers’ careers. Your parents. Your life. Just…where you see yourself in, like, ten years from now.”

His brows furrowed together as he turned his head to look at you. “You didn’t include yourself.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You mentioned my family but you didn’t mention yourself,” Quinn pointed out. “You’re in my future too, along beside them.”

You couldn’t control the way your smile widened. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Quinn said, sounding so sure about his words as he lifted his arm and pulled you closer towards him. “In ten years, I would like to think we will be married by then.”

“Hm, I can see it so clearly,” you mused as you rested your cheek against his chest. “You would have tried to plan something super romantic because Jack convinced you you had to for the proposal. But it wouldn’t happen.”

“You seem so sure about that,” Quinn hummed.

“Yeah because I know you,” you snorted as you lifted your head a little to look up at him. “I love you but sometimes, you’re too impatient. Knowing you, you’ll end up proposing a week before you planned to in our kitchen or something.”

“Well now I’ll go out of my way to make sure you get the proposal you deserve,” Quinn huffed but you could see his lips twitching.

“Any proposal from you would be perfect,” you assured him, feeling oddly smug about the way his cheeks flushed in response.

“Cheesy,” Quinn murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t think I would want to get married in Vancouver, is that bad?”

“Not at all,” you said with a shake of your head. “This would be perfect. Married under the stars. It would be like a fairytale.”

“Michigan would be pretty nice,” Quinn commented, his voice a little dazed like he was imagining the whole thing playing out.

“We have plenty of time to plan it if you’re going to take ten years to propose,” you joked, laughing and squirming in his hold when he lightly pinched your side.

“Smartass,” he huffed out, grinning at you. “I said we would be married by then, have you locked down and everything.” You snorted before he continued. “Maybe by the ten year mark, we would be starting our own family.”

“Let me guess, you want three boys,” you mused.

Quinn smiled. “I wouldn’t be upset.”

“And if we only have daughters?” You asked.

“If the Gods choose only to give us daughters, then I will gladly have as many as you’re willing to give me,” Quinn responded, his words sweet and sincere and a little more serious as he lifted his head and pressed his lips against yours. “Our family will be perfect whether it’s three boys or three girls or three dogs.”

Your face softened. “I quite like the sound of this future.”

“I’m excited to live it with you,” he murmured in response, leaning down to kiss you once more under the night sky.

#cece's cocktail celebration #quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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lacroixwh0r3 · 1 year ago

Text

The First Taste

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Joel, your dad's best friend, for the first time after your dad begged you to join them at the lake to keep Sarah company. Both you and Joel become fascinated by each other the moment the two of you met.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON, heavy sexual tension, drug usage (weed only), petnames, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), fingering, voyerism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, swimming??, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): The First Taste by Fiona Apple

PART 2 PART 3

A/N: This takes place four years before Blow My Load, but can be read as a standalone.

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy lovies! <33

"Dad, I thought it was supposed to be a "boy's trip," and the last time I checked, I am not a boy." You point at your body as you tell your dad. For some reason, he is begging you to come to the lake with him and his friends the day before they leave. "Why won't you just tell me why you want me to go? And maybe I'll give you an answer."

You finally got him to crack.

Your dad let out a defeated sigh as he scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever bullshit your dad was about to say. "Well, you see, honey, one of the guys couldn't get a babysitter for his kid, and I offered you to keep her company." He winced.

And there it is. The thing he was holding back from you

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. You really couldn't believe this shit. "Are you serious, dad? I refuse to babysit some random kid because you offered me up without even asking me first!" You exclaimed at him. "I don't even know a damn thing about this kid."

"Look, I know it was wrong for me to do that, sweetheart, but I swear Sarah is a good kid. Most of the time she has her headphones in and minds her business." He tries to reason with you, almost pleading with you. You began to feel bad for blowing up on him like that, but it really did piss you off that you had to watch someone else's kid. "I'll even pay you."

This weekend, you planned on doing nothing but self-care. You wanted to do nothing but stay home, watch movies, get a mani and pedi, go get a massage, drink, and maybe even play with the new toy you just bought yourself at Spencers.

You feel yourself giving into your dad; it wasn't the money that made you say yes, but the fact that he always found a way to make you feel bad, even if he didn't mean to do it. "Ugh, fine!" You scoff as you turn to look away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see his body perk up.

Your dad lets out a sigh of relief, saying, "Thank you so much, sweetheart! You're such a lifesaver; you know that, right?" He slaps your shoulder playfully, causing you to shrug it off and narrow your eyes at him playfully as well.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. How old is your friend's daughter, anyway?" You asked him, unfazed by it all.

"I think she's around 14?" Your dad said cluelessly. "Not too bad, right? I'm sure that you can find something to talk about with her."

It wasn't that bad, but what the fuck would you, a 21-year-old, have in common with a 14–15-year-old girl?

"I guess. I'm gonna start getting my stuff all packed up," You tell him as you turn around to go up to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, and thanks again!" He exclaims to you as you make your way farther up the steps.

"Yup!" You yell it out dismissively.

As much as you hated the circumstances, you were happy you were finally able to get away for a little bit.

...

It was the next day, and you were tired as hell after only getting four hours of sleep. You had spent all night packing and stressing about what you were going to wear. It wasn't like you were trying to impress anyone, but this was your first time meeting your dad's friends, and you wanted to look decent.

You had left it up to your dad to pack your things into the car as you were too tired to do anything besides shower, put your clothes on, and lay back down for a little until it was time to go. As you lay face down on the bed, knocked out, you heard your dad knock on the door. "Hey, kiddo, are you ready to head out?" He asked you as he stood at the door.

You slowly sit up on your bed as you yawn and stretch your arms over your head. "Yeah, let me just get up and grab my purse and stuff."

"Got it." Your dad says this before turning around and making his way downstairs.

After moments of sitting on your bed, stairing into space, you got up, grabbed your purse, and began to leave your room. However, on your way to the door, you see the pouch that contained your weed and weed paraphernalia. You hesitantly swiped it from your dresser, dropped it into your bag, and went downstairs.

If the men got to have their fun, why couldn't you?

Once you get to the last step, you hear your dad saying bye to someone on the phone before turning to you. "My buddy, Joel, just got to the lake house, so we should start headin' out." He says this as he grabs his keys and motions for you to follow him to the door.

After making sure the security alarm was set and locking the door, the two of you were finally on your two-hour journey to the lake house.

...

You and your dad finally made it to the lake house. It was a three story house that sat on top of a hill, surrounded by nothing but trees.

You and your dad hop out of the car and start bringing your bags to the front door. All of a sudden, the moment you sat the last bag down and brought your fist up to knock at the door, it swung open, revealing a man who looked to be in his early 30s with short, dark, curly hair.

Beside him was a woman with long locs, smiling warmly at you. Meanwhile, the man looked at you with confusion, trying to piece together who you were. You looked familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to your face.

"Tommy!" Your dad said loudly behind you. You could hear the excitement in his voice as he greeted him. Tommy's eyes moved to look behind you at your dad, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh man, y'all come on in!" He opened the door wider as he and the unnamed woman moved out of the way to allow you to walk in first, followed by your dad. "I'll grab the rest of the bags out there." Tommy says.

Tommy brought the bags in as your dad greeted the lady. "Hey, Maria!" He asked her as he gave her a side hug. "I didn't know you were gonna be joining us this weekend as well."

So that was her name.

"I didn't think I was going to be joining either. Tommy invited me last minute, so I just decided to take some time off of work," She replies back.

They stood near the entrance as they began to get deeper into the conversation, talking about God knows what, leaving you standing there awkwardly as you watched them. You decided to take that moment to observe the room. Even though the house was spacious, it still had a cozy feel to it.

As you were in your own world, your dad gently slapped his hand on your shoulder unexpectedly. "And this young lady right here is my daughter." He smiles at the two as Maria and Tommy turn their attention to you.

"Nice to meet you, kid," He says as he offers his hand to shake yours, which you accept. You shake hands with him before dropping them to your side. Tommy then points to Maria. "This is my wife, Maria."

You shake hands with her as well while you tell them your name. "It's so great to meet you two!" You beam at the couple.

They begin to ask you a series of questions about yourself, such as what university you attended, what your major was, and so on, to which you gladly answer.

However, in the midst of your conversation, your words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. "And here comes my asshole brother, Joel, and my niece, Sarah," Tommy says to you, prompting both you and your dad to look behind you. You can hear Maria let out a loud laugh at Tommy's words.

Your eyes immediately focused on him as he got closer to you, not even paying attention to the fact that his daughter was right behind him as well.

The man named Joel had short, dark, curly hair like Tommy’s; the only difference is that he is a lot shorter, and the roots of his hair were slightly gray at his temples. Joel also had a patchy beard with a thick mustache. He has this rugged and mysterious look to him that completely enraptures you.

He and your dad greet each other, giving a quick bro hug and pulling away. Joel then turns to you, and you feel your hands quiver. His dark, dominant eyes intensify the intimidating aura that surrounds him, yet it still makes him even more interesting to you.

Holy hell, you think to yourself. This man is so fucking fine.

You continued to stare at Joel, saying absolutely nothing, until you realized that he was giving you a confused look as if he were waiting for something. Your eyes darted down, and you realized that he had his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you went to shake his hand.

"Joel," was all he said as the two of you shook hands before he let go and discreetly rubbed his hands into his shirt. You could feel yourself shrink with embarrassment as he did this. Not only did he not even give you a chance to introduce yourself, but he wiped his hands after shaking yours.

What a fucking jerk! Tommy was right; he is an asshole.

You quickly snapped out of your feelings when you realized that Sarah was now in front of you. She wore a pink crop top and jean shorts, while her curly hair was placed in a low ponytail.

She suddenly brings you in for a hug with a massive smile on her face, catching you off guard. Nonetheless, you still happily return the hug.

"I'm Sarah. It's nice to meet you!" Unlike Joel, Sarah was a lot more friendly with you. She had this radiant energy to her that made you wonder where she got it from because it definitely wasn't from Joel's grumpy ass. You tell her your name.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Sarah!" I return a smile back to her. She seems like the sweetest 14-year-old you've ever met. "I think we're gonna get along just fine this weekend."

"We sure are!"" She agrees.

"Sarah, sweetheart, how've you been?" Your dad asked her.

As your dad began to talk to Sarah, you decided to check Joel out while he listened to the conversation, occasionally putting in his two cents. Unlike the rest of the group, Joel wore a dark gray shirt, jeans, and some boots.

How is he not hot?

I mean, he is hot, but I meant temperature-wise, you think, causing yourself to let out a low chuckle.

You guess you said that out loud because Joel’s head, along with Maria's, Sarah's, and Tommy's, suddenly snapped over to you with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Your dad's voice slowly began to fade when he saw the mortified expression on Sarah's face.

"Wait, what happened?" Your dad asked cluelessly as he looked around the group. He was so in his own world that he didn't hear what you said. Thank-fucking-goodness. "Everyone just stopped talking all of a sudden."

"Nothing!" You quickly tell him as you give him a disengenious smile before looking at everyone else. Sarah looked embarrassed for you, as Tommy and Maria still looked shocked. You get a glimpse of Joel as you wince in embarrassment and close your eyes; he had this smug look on his face.

You gathered that Tommy obviously loves to fuck around with people because he let out a stifled laugh, causing his wife to slap his arm and tell him to shut up.

You just wanted to die right then and there. This is now the second time today you've embarrassed yourself in front of this sexy ass man.

Your dad, being the clueless person he is, continues on with whatever he is talking about, not even realizing that no one is paying attention to him. Maria interrupts your dad as she clears her throat to catch your attention. She had a sympathetic look on her face. "Sweetie, your room is on the second floor next to, uh, Joel's, if you wanna get settled in," She offered to you. "We're going to head out to the lake and start putting some things on the grill around 2 or so." You just nodded your head because you were too afraid to speak.

"Hey, Joel?" Tommy looked at his brother with a teasing look on his face. "Why don't you go show her to her room, yeah?" He nods his head in the direction of the staircase.

You wished that you could just punch Tommy across the face at this very moment.

"Umm yeah..." Joel agrees slowly as he gives Tommy a dirty look before glancing at you. "Follow me," You nodded your head and grabbed your purse and other bags. As you followed Joel, the group quietly picked up their conversation again.

Without saying a word to each other, you and Joel arrive in the room. He steps aside, allowing you to enter, and turns around to make his way down the hallway to go back downstairs, but you quickly stopped him before he could get any further. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened down there." You apologized to him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything."

Joel just turns around and gives you a small smirk. "Oh, darlin', I'm far from uncomfortable. I'm actually flattered...more than flattered as a matter of fact." He winks at you before departing down the hallway, leaving you shocked.

You were somewhat relieved that Joel wasn't disgusted by you, but it still didn't help with your embarrassment as much as you hoped it would.

You scanned the room, taking in the room that you were going to be spending your weekend sleeping in. The walls were painted a light gray. There was a queen-sized bed that looked really comfortable and had bedside tables on each side as well as a TV, which was mounted onto the wall opposite the bed. There was a door that led to a balcony. You could see an overview of the calm lake and the tall trees. It was a beautiful view.

...

It's been a while since you went downstairs with everyone. You were still so embarrassed by the incident this morning that you decided to spend most of your time scrolling through social media and catching up with your college friends. The only time you came out of the room was to go to the bathroom.

You eventually rolled out of bed and worked up the courage to join everyone.

After changing your clothes that you had on earlier and putting on your swim suit, you slipped on your oversized shirt, put on some waterproof mascara, and put on some lip gloss.

You made sure to grab your sunglasses, put on your flip-flops, and jogged down the steps.

Once you got down there, you realized that Maria was in the kitchen. You headed towards her, quickly greeting her. "Hi, Maria," You say while positioning yourself behind the chairs on the island. She was gathering something that she needed to put outside.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Maria happily greets you back with a smile as she turns her attention to you. "How're you feeling?" She asked you gingerly as she looked at you with sympathy. Her goal wasn't to embarrass you; she truly wanted to know if you were okay after earlier.

You felt yourself begin to get flustered. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking." You sheepishly replied. You avoided her eyes, beginning to feel awkward.

"Of course. They're out in the back; you should join them." She points to the sliding door. You just nodded your head and made your way to the door. Before you went out there, you stood there looking outside. You could see Joel's tall figure standing over the grill as he flipped the meat and sipped on his beer.

You felt yourself getting nervous just looking at him.

You then looked and saw your dad helping Joel take the food off the grill and start to place it on the table. Meanwhile, Sarah and Tommy sat at the table, talking to each other. Whatever Tommy had said made them let out loud laughs, causing Joel quickly turned around, let out a chuckle, and shook his head. He then went back to putting things on the rest of the food on the serving platter.

His smile is so gorgeous, it almost takes your breath away.

"Are you going out, sweetheart?" Maria asked behind you, startling you. You had forgotten that she was still here.

You turned to her as you began to stammer over your words and realized that her hands were full with plasticware and plates. "Do you need me to help you take those?" You asked her without even answering her question.

"I do actually," She just looked at you with a questionable look before speaking up again. "Can you just grab the forks and spoons from the top and place them on the table out there, please?" She asked. You grabbed the utensils before turning back around and opening the door.

They didn't notice you at first until Sarah caught sight of you and loudly called out your name as you got closer, causing Joel to look over at you as he closed the grill's top.

"Sarah!" You exclaimed dramatically. Once you reached the table, you sat the plasticware down and went over to sit next to her.

You noticed that her hair was wet and that she was wrapped in a towel. "What've you been up to, girlfriend?" You asked her as you sat down in the seat.

"Nothing much; I just took a quick dip in the lake, and now I am starving," Sarah whined out as she looked over at her dad, who was coming over with the food.

You can hear the sound of Joel's heavy feet approaching behind you and stopping at the free seat at the end of the table, which was next to you. He first put the food in the middle of the table, then plopped himself down. We all began to put things on our plates and begin eating.

Tommy grumbled something about starving, causing Sarah to make a joke about how he was always starving. In reply, Tommy stuck his tongue out at the young girl in a teasing manner.

As Joel ate, he was manspreading under the table. You could feel his hairy, bare leg graze against yours, making you move your leg away. Joel wiped his mouth with the napkin, took a sip of his beer, and looked at you with a blank stare, not saying anything.

You decided to speak up and compliment him on the food. "Joel, this is really good," You smile. Everyone hummed in agreement as they ate.

"Why thank you, darlin'?" Joel says, going back to eating.

...

After eating, we all sat there with our tummies full as we sat around talking about whatever came to mind. That was until Sarah ran into the house without saying a word.

"Oh goodness, that girl." He sat back as he watched his daughter running around the house through the sliding door before running back outside with a box of Uno cards.

"Who wants to play?" She asked the whole table as she ran to her seat and plopped down.

We all agreed. She began to shuffle the cards, dealt them out to everyone, and then set up the game. It first started with you, Joel, Maria, Tommy, then your dad, and lastly Sarah.

Sarah was the first one to get Uno, even though she had the most cards at one point. We all accused her of cheating, which she was quick to deny. No one at the table believed her, especially Tommy and Maria. She just rolled her eyes and helped your dad while he was stuck figuring out which cards to play next.

While the two silently argued about which card was the best, you looked over at Joel and saw that all his cards were showing. You looked around and noticed that no one was paying attention to his cards. Tommy and Maria were sitting there watching your dad and Sarah.

"You're bleedin', Joel," you whisper to him as you point to his card. His face scrunched up with confusion as to what you meant. He looked down at himself and saw no blood.

"What, sugar? I ain't bleedin' anywhere," He said as he tried to recall if he had maybe scraped himself anywhere, but it wasn't coming to him. You couldn't help, but laugh at his confusion.

"It means your cards are showing, Joel." You giggled at him as he chuckled a bit and put his cards up so that he wasn't "bleeding" anymore.

"That's so stupid, who taught you that?" You just shrugged your shoulders at his question and looked back over to see if your dad had finally picked up his card yet.

"Oh my gosh, this isn't rocket science, dad! Just pick a card already!" You exclaimed it, causing everyone to laugh.

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!" Your dad waved you off as he went back to silently arguing with Sarah about which card to choose.

The game got drawn out longer than it was supposed to because every other minute someone (usually Tommy) would start arguing about another person cheating. And in the end, Tommy lost the game.

We put the cards away as everyone except for Maria decided to hang out by the dock and take a swim. She said something about having to get on the phone with a client of hers, but she would come join us when she was done and would bring popsicles.

You and Sarah walked in front of your dad, Joel, and Tommy until you yelled out, "Beat you there!" to Sarah as you both haphazardly ran down the steps to get to the dock.

"You girls, be careful down those stairs now! Don't want y'all gettin' hurt," Joel yells out from behind. The two of you don't respond or slow down; you just keep giggling and running. Joel had to suppress a smile from appearing on his face. It brought him joy to hear how much fun Sarah was having with you.

Once you make it to the dock, Sarah flings off her towel and jumps into the lake with a squiel before she goes under water and floates back up. You quickly kick off your flip flops, throw your sunglasses down, and take off your shirt. Unlike Sarah, you didn't jump into the water, you sat down on the dock and scooched into the water.

Oh, come on! You should've jumped in!" She says this to you as she splashes you with water. You splashed her back.

"I'm too afraid, Sar-bear!" You yelled out to her, and she gasped. The men appeared from the concrete steps just as she did so. Joel dropped the towels in his arms before walking over in front of us, while your dad and Tommy moved to the other side of the dock with their beers and their folding chairs.

"Dad, can you believe that she's too afraid to jump into the water?" Sarah yells out to her dad.

He looked down at you from the dock with his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Really? It's not that scary, sweetheart," He tells you.

"Then how about you get in, Joel?" You say to him without even thinking.

"Yeah, come on, dad. Get in and show her how it's done!" Sarah yells out as she encourages her dad to get in.

You watched Joel as he took off his shoes and shirt, all while keeping his eyes on you. You couldn't help but suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip when he pulled off his shirt. You got a glimpse of his shirtless chest. Joel wasn't the most muscular man, but whatever his job was, it kept him fit, and you loved it. Your eyes quickly scanned over his neck, then his broad shoulders.

Those damn shoulders of his. You wished you could hold onto them as you rode on his co-

Your thoughts were abruptly shattered when Joel took a big leap into the lake, causing a splash of water to hit your face and go up your nose. You tried to make an attempt at turning your head, but it was too late. You coughed as you tried to clear the water from your lungs. As you do so, Joel comes up from beneath the water.

He gasped as he allowed the air back into his lungs and used his big hands to wipe his face. Once he noticed that you were coughing, he quickly swam over to you with a look of concern.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked you as you let out one last cough and nodded your head. He brought his hand up to stroke the side of your head and gave you this tender look before pulling away when he noticed that Sarah was coming over.

If it were just you and Joel on the lake, he would've probably pulled you into his body and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Even though he had just gotten into the lake, Joel decided to get out before he did something that he would regret.

"Alright, girls. I'm gonna get out now." He says more to Sarah than to you. Once again, you just nodded your head at him. You knew that if you spoke, you'd embarrass yourself again.

"Wha-Dad! You literally just got in." She tries to convince him, but he just shook his head and grabbed onto the rails. He pulls himself up with a grunt and walks onto the dock.

"I'll get back in in a little bit." He dismissed her as he went to get a towel.

Sarah began to say something to you as she swam around you, but you were too focused on Joel to listen to what she was saying. She was too busy talking to notice that you weren't listening. Your attention was stuck on Joel, and his wet shorts stuck to his surprisingly nice ass. He then turns around as he dries off. Your eyes drifted down and widening when you saw his bulge. You were taken aback by the sight.

Oh my god, you thought to yourself.

You looked back up at his face to realize that Joel was already staring at you and smirking while he wrapped the towl around his waist.

Oh fuck!

He obviously saw you staring at his cock because he was fucking smirking.

Joel walked over to have a seat with his brother and your dad. You diverted your attention back to Sarah, acting as if you knew what she was talking about. You just nodded your head a couple of times, and she believed it, but again, your mind drifted.

You were thinking about her dad; snap out of it for Christ's sake.

For the rest of your time at the lake, you refused to look at Joel. And just as promised, Maria finally joined you all about an hour later with the popsicles she said she would bring. Once we ate them, Maria convinced the other adults to have a swim in the lake, to which they all agreed after some groans and pressure from her and Sarah.

...

After spending most of the afternoon outside, everyone went off to do their own thing. Sarah decided to take a shower and then go to sleep while your dad, Tommy, and Maria opted to go out to a bar that a local had told them about, and Joel refused to go out tonight because he said that he was beat from the lake. As for you, you took a quick shower and decided to watch the sunset on the balcony that was connected to your room and smoke.

Before slipping onto the balcony, you grabbed a preroll and a lighter from the pouch, your headphones, and a water bottle from the bed.

When you first got here, you didn't notice that there was a door connected to the balcony that led to Joel's room. However, the sheer curtains were closed, so you could only assume that he was asleep, meaning it was safe for you to smoke without him seeing you. You sat down on the lounge chair, put your headphones on, turned on some music, and began your session.

After two hits of the preroll, you felt the effects of the weed. Your body began to relax, and your eyelids felt slightly heavy. As you continued smoking, you couldn't escape the thought of Joel. You know that he is your dad's friend, and you would never think to go after him, but you have to admit that he is an attractive older man. Just your type.

You barely spoke to him throughout the couple of hours you had been there, yet you could tell the type of man he was. He is very reserved, doesn't speak unless spoken to, and likes to observe. Joel is respectful, but he didn't take shit from anyone. It was very visible that he was protective of not only Sarah but also Tommy.

Everything about him drew you in more and more.

With a few more hits of your preroll, you see a figure standing in the corner of your eye just a few feet away from you, causing you to quickly pull off your headphones and flick the preroll from your fingers and off the balcony. You look over to see Joel watching you with his eyebrows frowned and his hands on his hips. Your eyes widen with shock.

"Shit! I mean, hey, Joel..." You smile up at him awkwardly, trying to seem as sober as possible. "What are you doing out here?" You asked him in a sickly sweet voice. He continues to stare at you before answering.

"I just came out here to check on you. Heard you out here, so I decided to see what you were up to." Joel grumbles as he switches his weight to his other foot.

You prayed that Joel didn't know you were out here smoking weed; your dad would kill you if he heard about you doing this. Little did you know that your attempt would be a complete failure. As soon as Joel walked outside, he could smell the smoke and aroma of weed. He could also see your bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, yknow, nothing much really, just out here enjoying the view and listening to music!" You say this while waving your hand, gesturing to the view in front of both of you. You visibly cringe after this sentence because, even though it was the truth, it wasn't the full truth. He seemed to buy it, so you relaxed a bit.

"Mm, you enjoyed yourself today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun today. Sarah definitely made it fun for me, she's amazing." You admitted to him, and it was true. His daughter was truly a joy to be around.

"Yeah," He laughs out as he looks out at the sunset, his handsome smile threatening to appear on his face. "She's amazing, for sure." He whispers. You can't help but smile at his words. It was refreshing to see that there was someone who was able to crack his hard exterior.

A silence falls over the two of you before he speaks up again. "Y'know, when we were walking back to the car after the lake, she talked about you the whole time. I couldn't shut up about how much cooler you are than Tommy and me." He scoffs as he rolls his eyes playfully and folds his arms to his chest. His confession made you laugh so hard that you couldn't stop, which caused him to laugh as well.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." You teasingly say it to him, causing him to shake his head.

"Yeah-fuckin'-right, darlin'. I can be cool, too."

"Mmhmm.." You reply back to him as you turn your head to look back at the view. However, Joel's eyes remained on you, but you didn't mind too much.

Once again, silence fell over you two. You wanted to look back at Joel, but you knew that if you looked at him in the eyes, your heart would beat out of your chest.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Joel?" You asked him without looking at him.

"What?" Joel asked.

Was he that engrossed in my face that he wasn't even paying attention, or were you not loud enough?

You suppress your laugh as you turn your head to look at him again. "I asked if you enjoyed yourself today." He quickly snaps out of his trance and looks away.

"Oh, yeah, it was enjoyable for the most part, sweetie," Joel sighs out. You said nothing else after this.

You didn't realize it until now, but you were starting to grow tired from the weed. You also wanted a snack.

"Well, I'm going to head back in, maybe fall asleep to a movie or something." You tell him as you grab your belongings, get up from the chair, and walk to the door.

"Alright," He says as he watches every step you take. "And one last thing, darlin'," You stop with your hand on the doorknob and look up at Joel as you wait to hear what he has to say. With a mix of your high and the nervousness you were feeling because of Joel, your heart was pounding out of your chest at this point.

"You don't gotta lie to me, sweet girl. You know that, right?" He says lowly as he motioned to his eyes.

Fuck!

Your body tenses up, and you freeze. You decided to play dumb, even though you were caught. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Joel," You say as you let out a nervous laugh. Your eyes shifted to the ground, avoiding eye contact with Joel like a guilty puppy.

"Oh, no need to play stupid with me, sweet girl; I won't tell your daddy." Something about the way he said these words made you want him so bad; it was almost like he was teasing you.

You felt your walls crumbling, no longer feeling the need to lie to him. "You swear, Joel?" You asked him as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

Joel wished that you would look at him with those pretty eyes while you were on your knees, pleading and begging for him to feed you his cock. In all honesty, he'd give you the world if you asked for it with that look. You made Joel feel something he hasn't felt for a woman in years, and he was willing to do just about anything to have you. However, he could tell you weren't ready for that yet, but he knew in due time he'd have you.

"You have my word, darlin'," He nods his head. "Just don't lie to me again," Joel tells you as he points a finger.

You frantically nod your head in agreement as you bite your lip. "I won't do it again, Joel."

All Joel could think about was how obedient you are, so eager to please him and do as he says. He could feel his cock getting hard in his shorts as he looked at your bare thighs and had these thoughts. Not once did you realize that Joel was checking you out.

Oh, how badly Joel wanted to grab your chin and kiss those lips of yours. He kept reminding himself that he needed to be patient.

"Good." He says before speaking up again. "You should go inside, darlin', maybe get some rest." Joel insisted as he made his way to the door and gave you one last look before walking inside, leaving you outside by yourself.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment as you think about your interaction with Joel. You weren't sure if it was just you thinking too much into the interaction, but you felt like there was some sexual tension between you and Joel.

Any time you're around him, nervousness takes over, and a sense of yearning aches deep in your bones.

You needed him badly.

"Don't," You say to yourself. "Don't fucking think about it." You say it lowly as you try to shake the thoughts out of your head.

Joel is off limits; he's your dad's best friend.

You realized how crazy you must look standing at the door thinking about Joel, so you went inside.

Once you entered the room, you noticed that it was a little too warm in there for your liking, so you decided to leave the balcony door cracked to get some fresh air.

You put your things away, got into bed, and watched a movie on the TV across the room.

...

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you did during the movie without even realizing it. You felt very discombobulated, so you sat in the dark for a few minutes. Your clothes felt disgusting on your body as you sweated through them, and your throat was dry.

You quickly got out of bed, slipped off your clothes, got back into bed, and took a sip of the water bottle that lay next to you. During this, you got a glimpse of the digital clock that sat on the bedside table. It read 12:48.

The house was quiet. You were sure that Maria, Tommy, and your dad were back from the bar by now and asleep. Sarah and Joel were probably sleeping as well.

You laid back down on the bed, pushing away the uncomfortable blanket, leaving your body bare. You should have gotten up to close the door because if Joel were to come to your balcony door, he'd surely get a glimpse of your naked body. However, you were still sleepy and a little high, so you lacked the motivation to get up.

It really didn't matter anyway; he's probably still sleeping.

You had laid restless in the bed, constantly flipping the pillows to get the cool side and changing positions, but you still couldn't sleep. You decided to lay on your stomach; it helped you fall asleep sometimes.

You knew one thing that would definitely make you fall asleep, but with a particular someone lingering in your thoughts, it felt wrong. It is completely wrong to have these thoughts about him.

He's way too old for you, and he's your dad's best friend.

Though you tried your best to resist these thoughts, you couldn't help yourself.

Fuck it, it's not like I'm gonna actually fuck him, you think to yourself.

You were suddenly taken back to earlier, when you first laid eyes on him. Those eyes and the curve of his nose. You wanted nothing more than to feel his beautiful nose rub against your clit while he ate you out.

Or when he shook your hands and you felt those thick, rough fingers against your smooth hands.

You were sure that Joel knew how to use them very well.

Subconsciously, your hips had bucked into the bed, trying to get friction onto your clit causing the headboard to hit against the wall ever-so-slightly.

"Shit!" You cursed out loud, hoping that Joel didn't hear. Your heart was pounding at the thought of being caught by him, but your pussy dripped with your wetness.

You waited a couple seconds until you took your hand from underneath the pillow and slowly moved it between the bed and your body, allowing your finger tips to graze against your pussy. You couldn't help but whimper at the feeling. Your arousal ran down your fingers, to your knuckles, and onto the bed.

What you didn't know was that Joel wasn't even in his room; he was sitting out on the balcony. He had been sitting out there for about an hour or so because he couldn't sleep, not with you on his mind, so he decided to sit out there and bore himself to death until he got some sleep. When he first came outside, he checked on you and saw that you were knocked out. The room was dark, and the only thing that brought some light to the room was the bright moonlight reflecting over the lake.

As Joel got up to check on you one last time before he went back to his room, he heard you let out a whimper. He slowly walked to your balcony door so that he wouldn't scare you in case you were having a nightmare, but that wasn't the case at all. Again, Joel heard you let out another noise.

First, you sharply gasped, then moaned out, "Oh, Fuck!"

Joel became more intrigued with whatever was going on in your room because it became very apparent that you weren't having a nightmare. In fact, it didn't even sound like you were sleeping anymore.

Like a thief in the night, Joel peered through the door that was half open. What he saw before him could've brought him to his knees.

You were lying down on your stomach, fully naked on the bed. He noticed that with your right hand, you were touching yourself. Joel wasn't hard before, but he's definitely hard now. He felt as his cock strained against the fabric of his shorts.

Joel knew it was wrong to watch you masturbate without knowing, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. It had been nearly two years since the last time he had been sexually active, and quite honestly, it was catching up to him at that very moment. He had been so busy with everything in his life that sex was the last thing on his mind until now.

As Joel watched you hump your hips into your fingers, you were imagining a shirtless Joel sat up on the bed, with you sitting in between his legs. Your legs would be wide open, propped up over his, as you allowed his calloused middle and ring finger to collect your arousal from between your folder and rub it into your clit. With his deep Texas accent, he would be whispering into your ear about how much of a good girl you are and how wet you were for him. Your head would be laid on his sexy, broad shoulders as your eyes rolled with pleasure. You imagined that as he played with your clit, his other hand would touch your breast and quickly tweak your nipples as they continued going up and firmly wrapping around your neck.

You were so caught up in your thoughts and pleasure that you hadn't realized that you were moaning out Joel's name.

"J-Joel, please," You quivered out quietly enough so that you weren't too loud, but loud enough for Joel to hear. "I'll be good, p-please, daddy." You followed up.

Even though you thought that Joel was in the next room over (which he wasn't) and there were other people in the house, you still continued to touch yourself as the headboard faintly knocked against the wall.

Yet you were so blissfully unaware of it all. So unaware of the fact that Joel was standing right outside the door, watching you rubbing yourself completely nude, and unaware that Joel had pulled his cock out while he watched and listened to you.

Joel didn't care that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't care that watching you, this freshly 21-year-old, masturbate without your knowledge was bad.

The sounds of your panting, moans, and dirty talk made him want to walk right into the room and give you the pleasure you needed.

Joel has always been a selfish lover when it came to the bedroom; he liked to be the one who was dominant and always took control. He could tell you needed someone like him to fulfill your desires—not some foolish 20-something year old, but a real man.

As you continued to grind against your fingers, Joel saw how your ass moved back and forth. He wanted to spank you for being such a naughty girl. Touching yourself without asking for his permission. He would remind you that only slutty, bad girls did that.

He jerked his cock at the same speed as your hips moved. "Oh my god, daddy!" You moaned into the pillow, causing it to be muffled. The thrusting of your hips had sped up. You were on the cusp of cumming, but that changed when you suddenly pulled your hands from between your legs and got up to change positions.

You were now lying on your back with your legs bent up to your chest as far as they could go. Using the hand you just used to grind up against, you bring your middle and ring fingers to your mouth. You began to suckle on them intensely, pretending they were Joel's fingers. You could taste yourself as you did so.

A minute later, you pop your fingers out of your mouth and bring them down to your pussy. As you sink your fingers inside yourself, you can feel the wetness, allowing you to slip deeper into your tight hole. You squirmed as you felt a little discomfort due to your fingers. You decided to slowly thrust your fingers in and out, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling. With your free hand, you brought it up to your mouth to muffle your soft whines.

Oh, my baby, she can barely take her own fingers, Joel thought as he watched you.

To Joel's surprise, you still didn't see him standing by the door, hastily jerking himself off at the sight of you. It wasn't like he was being discreet about it either. He was almost fully through the door at that point. Your eyes were closed as you fingered yourself.

Finally, you were able to adjust to your fingers. As you picked up the speed, Joel could hear the wet, slick sounds coming from your pussy all the way across the room. Hearing this only heightens the pleasure for him.

"Joel, I'm-oh my god-I'm gonna cum!" You moaned lowly.

Joel wanted to be the one to make you cry, but he knew he couldn't at that moment.

Your messy wetness had allowed your fingers to go deeper inside, causing you a certain spot. Your legs shuddered as your finger tips grazed the spot. In a 'come here' motion, you continued to hit the spot over and over again. "Fuck! That's it, baby. Keep going just like that." You purred out.

Joel convulsed at the way you said these words. He was ready to cum at any moment, but he wanted to cum with you.

With his hand still rapidly moving up and down his length, he finally heard your release.

"Yes! I'm cumming all over your fingers, Joel!" You moaned a little louder this time. Joel could hear you breathing hard as you continued to ramble about how good it felt.

Instantly, Joel was cumming. He withheld his groans and grunts as the hot cum hit the palm of his other hand. Instead, he was breathing hard through his nose, hoping to God that you couldn't hear him.

Finally, your orgasm began to die down. "Oh my god," You sighed out blissfully, as you pulled your finger from your pussy. Your legs moved from your chest and you dropped down on the bed. You were still trying to catch your breath. With his mind still cloudy from cumming so hard, when Joel saw you move your legs, he thought that you were going to get off the bed, causing him to panic and move away from the door so that you couldn't see him.

You could feel the cum webbing between your two fingers. You decided that you wanted a look, so you opened your eyes and brought your hand close to your face. You could see the bright moonlight illuminate your cum. You'd never come so hard. Not with any of your hookups, let alone when you masturbated.

You felt spent after that, but you needed to get up to clean yourself off. You decided to rest your eyes a bit before getting up, but without even realizing it, you had dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Less than five minutes later, Joel heard light snores coming from your room, so he decided that it was safe to look again. You were dead to the world. Joel saw your limp hand hanging off the bed—the same one you had used to fuck yourself with. He could see the wetness gleaming on your fingers. He wanted to come over them and suck your cum off of your fingers, but he stopped himself.

The post-nut clarity had hit Joel, and he realized that he must've looked like a creep with his cock out while he watched you sleep. So he closed your balcony door and headed back into the house to wash the cum from his hands.

Joel knew that he would have you one day; it didn't matter how long it took for him to get you. He would get you right where he wanted you eventually.

...

You woke up feeling like a brand new person that morning. Your limbs felt loose, and you felt like you could conquer the world.

You could feel the sun on your naked body as you rose out of bed to stretch. The sounds of people moving around let you know that everyone was awake.

You suddenly realized that the balcony door was now closed. You don't remember getting up to clean yourself, and you definitely don't remember ever getting up to close the door.

Realization had hit you hard, and your heart dropped.

Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

There was no way anyone could have come into your room because you had locked the bedroom door. However, Joel had access to the shared balcony.

He was the only one who could've closed that door.

Whatever, you were going to enjoy yourself this weekend and act like nothing happened.

=============================================

A/N: I had a lot of trouble writing this for some reason, but next one is going to be a lot better. I got so much planned already hehe

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

Note

Congratulations, I adore your story!!

Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

To Keep You Safe

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language

Word Count: 1042

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.

Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.

He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.

And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.

(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.

Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.

“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.

“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.

“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.

“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.

“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.

“(Y/N).”

“Tommy.”

“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”

(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.

“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”

Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.

Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.

“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.

“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.

“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.

“I will,” he assured her with a nod.

(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.

“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.

“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”

“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.

“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.

Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.

He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.

**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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krirebr · 2 months ago

Text

I'm Feeling Like I Never Should

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Summary: It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.

Warnings: Explicit language, anxiety, insults, bad parents All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri's Birthday Bonenanza!!! The prompts I used were seeking comfort (or sexy times) from an ex and “Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” which both screamed Ransom to me. 😂 Thank you for hosting such a fun event, Siri!! I hope you had a great birthday!

Thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has an endless supply of patience for talking through ideas with me and helping me whenever I'm stuck.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The noise from the party floated down the secluded back hallway, muted but still audible. You took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. You really hated these things. Too many people. Too much smugness. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t all just donate to charities in private. That’s what the internet was for. But no, you had to watch each other do it to prove how good you all were while eating canapes and drinking too much in designer gowns. You really hated these things.

And your parents knew that. Your mom, especially, knew exactly what rooms like this, full of distant acquaintances and strangers, did to you. Knew how hard forced mingling was for you. Knew the way it made your chest ache. And still, she’d insisted. And then she’d–

You wiped the stray tears from your face. It was pointless to get upset over things she’d always done, over a person who’d never change. You should know better by now.

The door at the far end of the hall opened and you reflexively looked over at the noise to find Ransom Drysdale standing in the doorway in a tux. Shit. Shit. He, of course, had seen you too and now he was striding over.

“Not fucking now, Ransom,” you whined, but of course he didn’t listen. He’d never fucking listened. Not when you were kids and knew him in passing. Not for the entire time you’d dated as adults. Why would he start now?

“Wow,” he said, gesturing to you with a crostini in his hand. “There’s a party going on out there and you’re playing wallflower in here? Color me shocked.”

“Yeah?” you said. “And what are you doing in here? Trying to find a caterer to pay to blow you?” No one could get your back up like him. He’d always brought the vile out in you.

He gave you a mean little smirk. “You rather I slipped you a fifty instead? Your mouth always was one of the best things about you.”

You felt your skin start to heat in embarrassment (and something else you had no interest in naming) as you growled, “Fuck off, Ransom. I’m sure this building has other hallways for you to lurk in. Please just leave this one to me.”

You looked down, waiting for him to leave, but he didn’t move. Instead, you felt his intense stare on you. When you finally looked back up, his gaze was softer than you expected. “Is it your mom again?” he asked.

You pushed yourself back into the wall, for lack of anywhere to hide. It was easy to forget when he was such an asshole, when all you did was trade barbs, how much he’d seen, how well he knew you. All you could do was shrug, with a quiet, “You know how she is.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Still wants a mini-me instead of an actual human daughter?”

You sighed. It was too much, too real, to have him here like this. You almost preferred it when he was insulting you. “I really just want to be alone right now, Ran. Please.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head. His voice was so sure, firm.

“Excuse me?” you bit out, the acid coming back.

“If I leave you alone, you’re just going to stand back here and spiral until you’ve made yourself completely fucking miserable. To the point where it’ll take you days to come out of it. That is not what you actually want.”

His certainty lit a fire inside of you. “I know,” you growled out, “that you think you know everything, but you aren’t actually the expert on me, Ransom.”

“Aren’t I?” he asked, with a hint of that smirk returning. It made you want to punch him in his beautiful face.

“Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you? I know it’s been a while, but I know you. Better than any of those assholes out there.” He threw an emphatic arm back towards the party. “Including your fucking parents. You can talk to me.”

“And say what, Ran? That she’s still dragging me to these things even though she knows what they do to me? That she’s decided that there’s not much to brag about in a single daughter to her society friends, so these fucking events have become matchmaking opportunities too? That she will never tire of reminding me just how much I’m not the person she wants me to be? It’s just the same old bullshit. It’s not your problem anymore. It barely was even when we were together.” You sagged back against the wall, all of your energy leeched out of you.

Ransom was quiet for a very long moment. You hoped that meant he might leave, finally seeing what a lost cause this all was. Instead, when he finally spoke, he said, “She always really hated me.”

“Yeah, Ran,” you sighed. “She hates a lot of people.”

“No,” he said, with a smile that still had a touch of meanness to it, but, as always, you could somehow tell that none of that meanness was directed at you, “what I’m trying to say is I bet it would fucking piss her off if you walked back into that party with me on your arm. Spent the whole night with me. Left with me, even. I bet she’d be so angry. I bet it’d ruin her whole fucking week.”

You burst into laughter. You couldn’t help it. No one could do petty like Ransom. You’d forgotten how fun that could be. “Yeah? That’s why you want to hang out with me? To piss off my mom?”

“No, that’s why you want to hang out with me. I want to hang out with you because you’re always the hottest person at these things.” And then he gave you the most shameless once-over you’d ever received.

“Oh my god,” you chuckled with an overly fond eye-roll, despite yourself. He was always just so Ransom. The things about him that pissed you off and drew you to him in equal measure never changed. You were sure they never would. “What about you? I’m sure you have lots of people to piss off. How are Richard and Linda?”

He gave you a bright smile. “Oh, just the absolute fucking worst. As ever.”

You laughed again. “Glad to hear we’re still in the same boat, at least.” You pushed yourself off the wall and took a step closer to him, feeling like you might finally be ready to venture back into the party. “What were you doing back here, anyway? Do you need to finish finding whatever it is you were looking for?”

Ransom glanced away from you for just a moment and then shrugged. “Nah. I was bored out of my mind out there and then saw your mom swanning around, in rare form even for her. Figured I’d probably find you back here.”

You touched his arm without thinking, warmth spreading through your chest. “Wait, you were looking for me?”

He shrugged again. “I know how much you hate these things. Thought you might need checking up on.”

All you could do was stare at him, all the best feelings from your time together rushing back over you. “You’re very surprising, Ransom,” you said, quietly.

He shook his head with a rueful grin. “No,” he said, “definitely not that. I’m just the same old asshole.” He offered you his arm. “Come on, let’s see if we can make that vein in your mom’s forehead throb.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly

#happy birthday siri 2024 #siri's birthday bonenanza 2024 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #i'm feeling like i never should #kris wrote something

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racinggirl · 9 months ago

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promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagines #lando x reader #lando x you

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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

Note

would benny be a girl dad or a boy dad?

either way I can see him getting teaching his child (let's say 5 year old) how to ride a bike because they want to be just like their dad but benny knows the dangers of a motorcycle and the heart attack it would give his wife (reader) so they just settled on a regular bike.

what about girl dad benny who's daughter has a pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front

hi! 😌 honestly, I don't know. I can imagine him as a girl dad and a boy dad equally, although I assume he didn't have a good father growing up, so being a boy dad could terrify him a little... anyway, dad!Benny is apparently something I really enjoy writing because I loved every moment of it 🥰 before someone points it out – yes, he's drinking beer & smoking cigarettes with the kid around and yes, his wife (the Reader) is the one responsible for cooking and cleaning around the house (she has a job, too) – it's the 70s, okay? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

The garage where Benny worked as a mechanic was closed every Sunday but the store where you worked part-time was open every day of the week and sometimes they were asking you to show up on the weekends – especially when one of your co-workers was sick – but you didn’t mind it that much since they were paying more for working on Sunday. Today they wanted you for only one six hour long shift anyway so you would handle that with no problem.

In the morning, you prepared breakfast for everybody and went upstairs to change into your work clothes and to put light makeup on. When you went downstairs, Benny and Rosie were sitting on the couch together and watching cartoons. Your five years old daughter was curled up and rested her head on Benny’s chest as they both laughed at something silly.

“I’m leavin’,” you announced but they didn’t even turn around to look at you. You sighed. “I’m leavin’,” you repeated as you leaned in to give Benny a kiss on the cheek. Then you gave one to your daughter. “Don’t let her watch TV for too long,” you furrowed your brows at your husband. “I’m gonna bring dinner with me but you can make sandwiches,” you reminded him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Benny mumbled.

“Be careful, mummy!” Rosie waved her hand at you and you waved back with a wide smile before leaving the house.

When the door behind you closed, Rosie moved even closer to her daddy as she sighed.

“Daddy?” She looked up.

“Hm?” Benny asked as he put his arm around her and caressed her back.

“But I want to watch cartoons all day long,” she pouted and Benny chuckled before looking down at her face.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but they don’t show ‘em all day long,” he pointed out.

“What are we gonna do then?” Rosie whined.

“Dunno,” Benny shrugged his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie’s eyes sparkled and Benny nodded – unsurely, though. “Can I colour your tattoos?” She made puppy eyes at him.

“Yeah,” Benny sighed but with a loving smile.

Rosie clapped her hands, forgetting the cartoon on the TV immediately. She kissed Benny’s cheek and scrunched her nose at the itchy feeling of his facial hair before she jumped out of the couch but then, she froze.

“Wait, do you go to work tomorrow, daddy?” She asked, concerned. Benny nodded at that. “Well, maybe then no colouring…”

“It’s fine,” Benny chuckled.

They had learnt already that one shower was not enough to get those marker pens out of his skin.

“I don’t mind it, baby,” he assured her and she smiled again, widely. Then she ran upstairs to her room for the set of marker pens that you had given her for her birthday.

Benny changed the channel on TV since Rosie wasn’t interested in watching cartoons anymore. He switched to some football game and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. You would usually scold him for starting so early but you weren’t home.

When he went back to the living room, Rosie was already taking out the marker pens out of the box. Benny sat down on the couch and opened the can of beer with a wink.

“Don’t tell mummy ‘bout it, huh?” He chuckled and Rosie pretended to zip her mouth. “Good girl,” he patted her head and focused on the game on TV.

Rosie sat next to him and took one of his arms to colour the tattoos. She was trying to do a good job with it and not to cross over the lines. She was so focused on that task that she stuck out her tongue a little and her brows furrowed.

“You know what tattoo is my favourite, daddy?” She asked suddenly.

Benny, who had been lost in the game, immediately focused on his daughter’s question instead.

“Which one, dollie?” He asked.

“The rose, of course!” Rosie giggled. “It’s for me!” She exclaimed proudly and picked up a pink marker pen to fill in her favourite tattoo with her favourite colour.

“Um…,” Benny looked at her, concerned, and her hand froze in the air. “Could you… Choose a different colour perhaps? I’ve told you already I don’t want no pink on me,” he reminded her and Rosie sighed.

She looked down and started to look for a different marker pen.

“Why don’t you like pink, daddy?” Rosie asked.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. But it’s for girls,” Benny explained as he took a sip of his beer. “Men don’t wear pink.”

“Elvis had a pink cadillac!” Rosie pointed out. “And you have a tattoo of a rose. It’s girly, too,” she added and picked up a green marker pen.

“Okay, alright,” Benny sighed, giving up. “Paint it pink, I don’t care,” he shrugged his arms.

“Really?” Rosie looked up with widened eyes and a big grin.

“Yeah. If someone says something, I’m gonna remind ‘em who’s the boss around,” he laughed and Rosie squealed out of happiness before changing the maker pen for the pink one again.

“You’re the best, daddy!” She hugged him before starting to colour the rose tattoo.

Benny smiled to himself and went back to watching the game on TV. Those words coming from his daughter meant more than anything else to him.

When the game was over, Benny was already covered in colourful drawings. Rosie not only had coloured his already existing tattoos but also added a few new ones – for example a ginger cat she really wanted to own. She had no idea you and Benny planned to adopt one for Christmas as a surprise.

“My second favourite tattoo is this one,” she pointed with her little finger at a heart with a ribbon on it. And on the ribbon there was your name. “The one for mummy.”

“Your favourites are my favourites, too,” Benny smiled at her and opened his arms. Rosie crawled upon his lap and hugged her daddy tight. “You hungry, baby?” He asked and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Nah,” Rosie shook her head and scrunched her nose. “Can we play outside?”

“Sure. What you wanna do?” Benny patted her back.

“I want you to show me on the motorbike,” Rosie looked up with a pleading look. Benny laughed at that.

“No way.”

“But daddy…” Rosie whined.

“Rose, your mother’s gonna kill me,” Benny told her.

“She won’t find out!” Rosie promised.

Benny contemplated it for a moment but eventually agreed with a sigh. Rosie left his lap and ran outside and Benny stood up and went to the garage. He opened the door first and saw Rosie already waiting on the driveway while she kept dancing around happily.

He glanced at his Harley with a hint of melancholy. It was not like he wasn’t driving it at all anymore but these days his motorbike rides were rare. Next to the Harley there was his car parked and that vehicle was simply more useful when you had a family and a kid.

His good, old Harley. Benny patted it lovingly. He was grateful to you that you had not wanted him to sell it. Even when you had been kinda broke and needed money for the house. You had told him it would be fine without selling it. You knew the importance of this motorbike for him. And you knew how much it would devastate your husband if he had to sell it.

“Come here,” Benny waved at Rosie and she ran up to him, excitedly. “You can sit on it,” he told her but her smile dropped.

“No, daddy! I want to ride it! And outside, not inside the garage!” Rosie insisted and Benny sighed.

“Do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Yeah! I’m your daughter!” Rosie pointed out with a grin. “And mummy’s, too! You’re both stubborn as a pair of mules!”

“Rosie…” Benny scolded her as he gave her an unpleasant look.

“What? That’s what you are like whenever you’re fighting!” Rosie rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Benny gave up already. “Move away now,” he told her and she took a few steps back to watch in awe as he jumped onto the motorbike and started it with an aggressive kick. He kept looking behind to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly jump ahead and get hurt.

Benny drove outside to stop on the driveway and beckoned Rosie over. She followed him, curiously.

“You have to hold me very, very tight, you hear me?” Benny explained as he was helping her to sit behind him. He already regretted his decision to agree to this madness.

“I hear you, daddy!” Rosie promised and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I’m not gonna drive fast and we’re only gonna be riding up and down the street once. Don’t ask for more,” Benny told her.

“Okay!” She exclaimed happily.

Benny took a deep breath in and left the driveway to enter the street – slowly and carefully. He ended up driving with one hand as he kept his other one on Rosie, just in case her grip turned out to be not strong enough.

“I love it already, daddy!” He heard her giggle and that sound was like honey being poured onto his heart.

When they made one round, she asked for another and then another and another. Benny just couldn’t say no.

You left the bus with a takeout dinner still warm in the bag you were carrying. The day was nice and sunny so you weren’t hurrying to go back home. Your walk was slow and steady as you admired the trees and the sky and the sound of children playing in the background.

After a while, you furrowed your brows at the sound that was oddly familiar. No, it could not be… It could not be the sound of the engine of Benny’s motorbike, could it?!

You picked up your pace and when you finally approached your street, you froze at the sight of Benny driving his motorbike with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he was laughing. Rosie was sitting behind him and giggling while her legs were swinging in the air. You got dizzy at the sight.

Yeah, Benny was driving very slow and he was keeping one of his hands on Rosie just in case… But still, it was dangerous.

“Benjamin Cross!” You yelled and they both froze at the sight of you as their eyes widened in fear. It was nearly funny how much they looked alike at the moment – a father and daughter indeed.

Benny stopped the engine immediately and you could see his face got a shade paler. He mumbled something to Rosie and she jumped out of the motorbike before running towards you to give you a hug.

“Mummy!” She greeted you with a smile. “I made daddy show me how to ride a bike!”

“I could see that,” you smiled fakely at her and then gave Benny a deadly look. He was slowly driving back towards the house and inside the opened garage.

You took Rosie by her hand and dragged her behind you as you followed your irresponsible husband.

“Don’t be angry, mummy!” Rosie started as she felt your annoyance. “We were careful,” she assured you. “And it was not like daddy wanted to! I had to convince him!”

You didn’t answer and just waited outside the house as Benny parked his motorbike and closed the garage door before joining you awkwardly. He was avoiding looking into your eyes.

“You been driving around with a little kid in the back, risking your lives, while the garage door was open all this time?” You asked him and he looked down.

You sighed and squeezed Rosie’s hand tighter before going inside the house. Benny put out his cigarette on the ground and followed you.

You let go of Rosie’s hand and went to the living room to be able to get inside the kitchen where you wanted to put the takeaway dinner but then you spotted a mess in the living room.

“What is that?!” You gasped at the sight of the marker pens scattered everywhere. And on the coffee table there were two empty cans of beer.

You turned around, even more angry than before. Both Benny and Rosie looked down.

“Rosie, put the marker pens inside the box and take them upstairs to your room where their place is,” you told your daughter. “And wash your hands before dinner.”

“Yes, mummy,” she sighed and rushed to do what she was told to.

To Benny, however, you didn’t speak a word. You just gave him a dirty look and went to the kitchen to unpack the dinner.

He followed you with the empty cans of beer and threw them inside the trashcan before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. They were dirty from the grease.

“You’re fucking irresponsible,” you scolded him, trying to keep your voice low.

“I am not, we were careful,” Benny tried to explain himself but you ignored him.

“And the beer… Jesus, Benny. I’ve been telling you not to drink before noon at least, yeah? You think I’m gonna tolerate you drinking that shit right after breakfast?” You shook your head.

“I don’t do that every day,” Benny reminded you and looked at you like a beaten dog.

You tried to keep an angry face on for a moment longer before finally cracking a smile and opening your arms to give him a hug.

“Benny, baby,” you kissed his cheek and caressed his hair as he wrapped his arms around you. “I nearly had a heart attack back there, seeing Rosie on that goddamn bike.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, but she kept convicin’ me and I wanted to make her happy,” he explained and you sighed. Then you smiled, noticing the colours on his tattoos.

“Just don’t do that again, please,” you pleaded as you moved away to cup his face and look into his pretty baby blue eyes. “If something happened to either of you… I’d go crazy, Benny.”

“I know,” Benny cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Rosie ran inside the kitchen that very moment and she hugged your waist.

“Mummy, don’t be angry at daddy, it’s my fault!” She tried to defend him. It was adorable. You caressed her hair.

“No, baby. Daddy’s an adult so it was his fault. But it’s okay now,” you assured her. “That won’t happen again, just so you know. No more riding a motorbike,” you told her and she pouted but didn’t try to fight you.

“Show me your hands, baby,” Benny looked down and Rosie showed him. They were still quite dirty from some marker pens and some grease. Benny chuckled at that and shook his head. “Come on, we gotta clean them better,” he picked her up to help her access the kitchen sink as she began to scrub her hands under the stream of warm water with the help of the dishwashing liquid and you focused on dividing dinner into portions.

On the next day you weren’t working and you allowed Rosie to skip kindergarten. When you were at home, there was no point in sending her there and you enjoyed spending time with your daughter. She was helping you to clean the house since you couldn’t do that on the previous day due to your shift at the store.

Around five, you were preparing the dinner with the help of Rosie while listening to the songs on the radio and singing along together when you heard Benny’s car parking on the driveway. You looked out of the window and waved at him. He waved back and Rosie squealed excitedly, leaving all the vegetables she was supposed to chop behind as she ran outside the house.

You shook your head with a chuckle and wiped your hands in your apron before walking outside as well to see Rosie jumping into her daddy’s arms. Benny hugged her and patted her back.

“I got somethin’ for ya, baby,” he told her. “Your own bike,” he added and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” You crossed your arms and approached them two. Rosie was excitedly clapping her hands and you put your hand on her shoulder. “You being serious, Benny?”

“Just wait and see,” Benny chuckled and opened the trunk of the car before taking something out of it.

That something was a small pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front that made you gasp an oh as your heart fluttered at the sight. Rosie squealed and began to jump around out of happiness.

“Thank you, daddy, thank you, daddy, thank you!” She was repeating over and over.

Benny’s face lit up at the sight of her happiness. He opened his arms and she gave him a big hug again.

“We gotta make sure it’s good for ya, come here,” he put his hand on Rosie’s shoulder to walk her up to the bike. “Stand here,” he pointed at the ground next to the bike to adjust the height of the bike’s saddle. “Yeah, perfect,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m tired today, so I’m gonna park it right in the garage and we can try it out some other day, okay?”

“Yeah! I can wait!” Rosie nodded and then she turned around to look at you. “Mummy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you angry that I have my own bike?” She bit on her lower lip and you chuckled before ruffling her hair.

“No, love. It’s just a bicycle and it’s very pretty. I’m very happy that you have it and that daddy will show you how to ride it, yeah?” You bopped her on the nose and her eyes sparkled. “Benny!” You shouted after him as he was inside the garage. “We’re going back inside. Dinner’s almost ready,” you told him and you took Rosie back inside.

You finished preparing everything and you put it inside the oven before letting Rosie go to her room to play for a while before the meat and vegetables would be ready. When she was upstairs, you joined Benny on the couch. He was watching TV as usual after work and you put your arm around him to play with his hair. He hummed at your touch while the muscles of his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you told him and took his hand into your free one. He lazily turned his head around to look at you. “The bike and everything… You’re such a good daddy,” you whispered.

“Yeah, who would have thought, huh?” He chuckled and looked down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you squeezed his hand. “But… It had to cost a lot, that bike,” you swallowed thickly.

You loved your life with Benny and your little family. You were happy but it was no secret that money was something you often struggled with.

“It’s fine,” Benny nodded. “I promise ya.”

“Well, okay then,” you sighed and lowered your head to put it on his shoulder. Benny caressed your back and kissed the top of your head. “I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You furrowed your brows.

“For everything,” Benny shrugged his arms. “For saying yes and I do, for givin’ me Rosie, for savin’ my life.”

“I didn’t save your life, Benny,” you caressed his chest gently. “You saved your life on your own when you made your decision to settle down.”

It was something you two would never agree on. Benny kept insisting you were his saviour and you wanted him to finally realise that he could be a good man on his own as well and not only because of your love and presence or because of Rosie’s existence.

But what mattered the most in the end was that you loved each other and you were happy.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #*benny #lilysfiction

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hier--soir · 1 year ago

Text

a lover's pinch | six

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: joel and rachel have dinner. a confession is made. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, JOEL POV, sexting/nudes, joel has bad restaurant etiquette lmao, descriptions of arousal, references to past smut, the guilt and shame that sometimes go so neatly hand in hand with wanting, miller daughter cameo, mild angst, discussion of a car accident. word count: 4.8k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: just a reminder that this is set within ALP5, when joel goes to have dinner w rachel. just a short little peek into my beloved professor’s mind, and some context between j & r. hope you like it x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part six of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five.

Sunday.

“Nina thinks it’ll rain tomorrow. Overcast too, probably.”

There’s a faint hum through the phone as she speaks. A vague buzz that crackles and pops in almost every beat of silence. Not for the first time, Joel wishes she would let him buy her a new phone.

A gust of wind whips against his face and he cringes, turning his back against the draft.

“Okay,” he replies. “That’s okay, right?”

“It’s fine,” she grumbles. “Wanted to take you to this bar, though. They do these tacos we love. Nina says it’s the best Mexican place in New York.”

“Now how many times do I have to tell you there’s no good Mexican food in New York?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Joel can practically hear her rolling her eyes. He chuckles.

“What time are you coming ‘round?” Ellie asks. “I’ll be in the studio for most of the day, but we normally get home around five. Could do dinner around eight?”

Joel hesitates, and then raises his voice to be heard over the rushing wind. “I was actually thinkin’ I’d come see your studio.”

A moment of humming, crackling silence.

“I’d love to see some of your work,” he continues, peering in through the window of the restaurant. He thinks he can see Rachel through the frosted glass – her mess of dark curls vaguely visible, tucked away somewhere in the corner of the space. He hears Ellie breathing through the phone as he looks. “And s’been too long since you showed your old man any of your paintings.”

“Joel,” she huffs, and it’s that smartass, pained tone that has him grinning wider than anything she’s said up until this point.

It’s few and far between lately – hearing that name coming from her mouth. Joel. Something that’s been intermittent for almost a decade, and has been steadily decreasing since she moved to New York five years ago.

Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad.

Joel for years, and then one day—Dad.

It was Summer; Ellie was eighteen and he was thirty-nine, and this word that he’d grown so accustomed to hearing suddenly felt like a fist squeezing around his heart. It became something new, something different. Because Joel knew that, for her, family had always meant mistrust. Had always meant loneliness. Knew that sometimes her childhood felt like a knife stuck in her throat, and on those days, she had to decide whether to leave it in and stem the blood flow, or pluck out the blade and watch everything turn red.

And then one day, years on, it seemed that she’d drawn that dagger enough times. The blood stopped, the mistrust fell away, and—Dad.

Dad to Sarah and now, finally, Dad to Ellie.

“Ellie,” he imitates her tone, well-versed in mirroring her attitude after so many years of practice.

A voice rears up directly behind him and Joel stiffens, glancing over his shoulder to watch a couple exit the restaurant. Coat collars dragged up to protect their necks, arms linked as they smile and start down the street. He imagines Rachel sitting inside, alone, and his smile falters. He knows he should go back in soon, but can’t quite bring himself to cut this short.

“Yeah, okay,” Ellie answers finally, and he can feel the weight that rests in those words.

The admission, but also everything that goes unsaid alongside it. A silent acknowledgement of years spent reading between the lines, trying to know each other; years of her locking her bedroom door, hiding her journals, her artbooks, her pencils. Anything to keep someone else from seeing the way she expresses herself – from understanding that she feels anything. And this yeah, okay – well, it’s as close to I love you as the two of them ever get.

Joel says, “I’ve been missin’ you, kiddo.”

And she says, “I know.”

More silence. More contemplation of how to respond, how to keep emotions level when he is not Joel in this moment, but Dad.

Plucking out the blade.

“Ten tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the address,” Ellie says after a while. “Don’t be late or I’m not showing you shit, old man.”

Heat blasts his face when he steps back inside the restaurant. He tugs his jacket off as he wanders his way toward their little corner table inside San Vecchio—old saint. A small Italian place that Rachel likes to visit whenever she’s the city, and has slowly but surely grown on him.

When he gets close enough to see the table his stomach drops, face twisting into something apologetic as he lowers himself into his chair.

“Shit,” Joel mutters, staring at their food. Brought out while he was on the phone, sitting untouched; she didn’t even pick up her fork in his absence. A shameful heat rises in his face. “I’m sorry, Rach.”

“Hon,” she just laughs him off. “It’s okay, it only just came out.”

He nods, grateful, and lets her pour him a generous glass of wine. Red. A bottle of the Carignan, please, he remembers her telling the waiter. Although, when he takes a sip, he can’t tell the difference between this and the twenty-dollar cabernet he buys once a fortnight from the grocer.

They press the lips of their glasses together and murmur soft calls of cheers and another conference done, the words all but swallowed up by the raucous sounds around them.

“How is she then?” she prompts, never able to tame her curiosity.

“Ellie?” Joel’s eyebrows jut up, and he sets his wine glass down. “Good, yeah, good. It was nice to hear her voice, I, uh, I’ve missed too many of that kid’s calls over the past few months.”

Rachel nods, and when she smiles his chest feels a little lighter, because it’s the type of smile that says it’s okay, everything is okay, you’re a good dad, you took the call. And she has always had that kind of soothing effect on him, since the day he met her all those years ago. There’s this compassion to her character; a warmth akin to that of a sister. Smarter than hell and kinder than she’s ever been given credit for.

“Are you seeing her while you’re in town?”

“Mhm, tomorrow.”

“Well, that will be lovely,” she beams and takes a sip of her wine. Carignan stains her mouth. “Is she still with Nina?”

“She is.”

“God, that must be, what, four years they’ve been together now? That’s great, Joel.”

“I’m happy for her,” he smiles, gripping his fork. “They’re renting out this art studio together at the moment – Nina’s an artist too, did I—?”

“Yeah, you told me.”

“Yeah, they’ve been using the space to work on some new stuff. Ellie was tellin’ me ‘bout this gallery downtown, how they’ve offered her some exhibit space. Gonna have a show down there in March.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Rachel’s eyebrows raise, top lip quirking into a soft smirk as she twirls her fork through a mess of red pasta. “Do you think they’ll get married? Follow in Sarah and Tim’s footsteps?”

Joel can’t help but laugh at the idea. He tries to imagine Ellie and Nina in a chapel, or on a beach, or anywhere, professing their love for one another with friends and family watching on. Tries to imagine Ellie, all tattoos, messy hair, and gangly arms, tucked into a suit or a dress. The image doesn’t come easily.

“I don’t really think they’re the type,” he admits, and Rachel laughs too then.

“No,” she agrees. “I guess not.”

She asks more questions about the girls, the way she always does. Asks about Sarah’s job at the primary school, if teaching is all she thought it would be.

And something like halfway through their meal, around a mouthful of food, Rachel says, “You know I’m glad we’re here, because I need to ask you something.”

Joel’s hands still, face going slack as he meets her eye. There’s something conniving in them. Something sly in the way she smiles, baring her teeth at him. It makes his stomach twist into a tight, burning knot. What does she know?

“Okay,” he says slowly, lowering his knife.

“So,” she hums. “At the conference yesterday…”

“Yeah?” he rasps, blunt nails digging into his thigh beneath the table.

“I couldn’t ask you about it because I didn’t want anyone to overhear us, but… did you see what Professor Neilson was wearing? That blazer?”

“Jesus,” he deflates.

“Oh, come on,” she sputters, and there’s lipstick stained on her front teeth and he finds himself smiling too, relaxing.

“You’re a filthy gossip, you know that?” he raises an eyebrow.

She grins back at him. Winks and says, “Don’t act like you don’t love it, Miller.”

So, for an hour they eat, and talk, and drink. Don’t stop until their cheeks are sore from smiling and their ribs are tight and aching from laughter.

With full bellies and rosy cheeks, they scrape their plates clean. Lips purse and pucker around final sips of wine, and then… and then Rachel reaches across the table and places her hand atop his.

And Joel has never noticed that she has sunspots across her knuckles. Never noticed that she wears a ring on her pinkie finger, one with a dark emerald stone in the middle. Never noticed the thin white scar beside the nail on her index. She squeezes his hand, the pad of a finger skimming his wrist, and he remembers how he held someone else’s wrist only hours before this. Felt her skin beneath his fingers – the frailty of the tendons and veins beneath it, swimming with life as his thumb pressed down.

Joel feels his eye twitch. Works to keep his face relaxed, calm. And when she leaves her hand there, he laughs a little. A choked, wary sound. Turns his hand over so his knuckles are against the table and his palm is against her palm and squeezes once in return. Rachel isn’t smiling anymore.

“You okay, Rach?”

“Do you…” she pauses, mouth twisting into a shy smile as she clears her throat. Joel feels something heavy settle in his stomach. A type of dread that curdles and burns like red sky at morning. “Do you remember when Sarah was in that car accident a few years back?”

Joel swallows. Her hand feels too warm against his, her palm tacky with sweat.

“We were… we were at work, and… and Tim called you and told you she was in the hospital—”

He almost cringes at the memory. Her husband’s name flashing across his phone screen during a lecture. Stomach churning and why is Tim calling me, heart racingand Tim never calls. Remembers hearing those panicky breaths down the line and thinking Texas and Maine had never felt further apart than in that moment.

“You drove me to the airport,” he nods. His knuckles feel tight – he wants to pull his hand back and crack them. Wants to feel the joints pop beneath his skin, let the tension slip away like a sigh.

“You were so distraught,” Rachel sighs. “I’d never seen you like that. So uncomposed, so… chaotic.”

Joel huffs out an awkward laugh and tries to pull his hand back, but she squeezes harder. Keeps it in place beneath her own.

“What’s this all about?” his eyebrows furrow, face pinching into a sort of scowl. He can feel it, he can always feel it when his face does this. So unpleasant, so unwelcoming, and he knows it. Just never figured out how to stop it from happening.

“We were in the car,” she continues, and her eyes are so earnest now. So wide, the whites shining, her lashes darkened and fanned out around them in a way he’s never seen before. She’s wearing makeup. “And you didn’t even have a bag packed, you just wanted to get to your girl. Needed to see her with your own eyes, make sure she was okay.”

His jaw feels tight inside his head; teeth clenched painfully, digging into the gums around his molars as the memory plays in his mind.

Tim’s voice wavering, crying, she was unconscious when they pulled her out.

His hand is numb beneath Rachel’s. She’s fine, he reminds himself. Sarah’s fine, that was years ago.

“I think I knew then,” she says quietly.

“Knew what?” Joel tries to keep his voice level. Ignoring the odd feeling that twists in his chest and has his heart racing faster, so much faster than normal, faster than it has ever raced for Rachel.

“That I loved you.”

It’s almost dreamlike, the way everything seems to blur and fade around them after she says it. Or perhaps nightmarish is the right word. A sharp pain sparks between his ribs and he feels his body stiffen and then loosen all at once. Face, shoulders, hand beneath hers – everything softens. Fuck. His mouth tastes like sandpaper, tongue resting fat and gravelly against the roof of it as she stares at him.

When he doesn’t say a word, she says, “I’d always known you were so kind, so generous to the people around you. But to see the way you love? It’s… shit, Joel, I just knew.”

He’s convinced his throat is tightening.

“And I held it in all of these years, and I’m sorry for that. I was just never sure of how you felt, and you never tried anything with me, never hinted at any feelings. But after the conference yesterday...”

“The conference?” he whispers. He pictures that bench outside NYU. Remembers the nasty wind, an empty champagne flute on the ground, the side of his body going hot where it pressed against hers.

“Walking around that hall together,” Rachel smiles. “You kept holding your arm out for me to hold, and I thought, god, maybe this is it. Maybe you actually feel the same.”

Joel imagines that this must be what people describe as critical velocity. Everything that once was smooth turns turbulent. Every second, every minute, that he’s allowed himself to careen forward, wanton and reckless, on the deliciously destructive course he’s set for himself – all of it just for someone close to him to step directly into his line of fire.

And his silence is so painfully telling. He knows immediately when it’s been too long, too much quiet, too many seconds of nothing said, of no reassurances offered. The muscle in her jaw ticks, and a vertical line appears between pinched eyebrows. Confusion, surprise, hurt. Her hand pulls back, and he tucks his in his lap quickly.

“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, shit.”

Joel is suddenly certain that he’s going to be sick. His hands shake beneath the table, a violent tap tap tap where they’re clasped against the inside of his thigh.

“Rachel—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Please, don’t apol—”

“I shouldn’t have said—”

“Rachel,” Joel’s voice raises, just a little, just enough to make her pause, enough for conversation at the table beside them to halt for a second. “If anythin’, I should be the one apologisin’.”

She laughs; a sad, quiet thing. Shakes her head at him.

“I guess I… somewhere in my head, I thought you knew,” Rachel says quietly. “Thought you….” The unspoken words hang in the air between them. Thought you felt the same.

And it hurts. His skin prickles at the sound of her voice; laced with pain, with rejection. Your fault, he thinks. That pain is your fault.

“Is there someone else?” she asks then, and her voice is so feeble. So small, so un-Rachel that it makes his chest feel tight. Your fault.

Joel sighs, cringes, fumbles for the right words. The words to explain something that he himself doesn’t even fully understand. Words that will make her feel better, that will put her at ease. Put him at ease.

“It’s not….” he trails off, half-prepared to lie. But then he meets her gaze. Sees the tears that have settled on her waterline and knows he can’t. Wants to hate her for asking, wants to beg her to take back the question. But in the end he just admits quietly, “I suppose there is.”

She sniffles, and when she speaks again, it almost sounds like a question.

“You never mentioned anyone.”

“I know,” Joel nods. “I’m sorry, I think I just… it’s complicated, and it… it’s new.”

“New,” she repeats softly. “And you never… you never thought of me that way.” This time it isn’t posed like a question. There is nothing open ended about it. Instead it’s resigned; final.

The corners of her mouth are downturned, and her lower lip wobbles, a movement so miniscule that he could have missed it if his eyes weren’t trained on her face. Trying painfully to understand this situation that feels as if it has crept up on him in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Joel finds himself saying again, and he thinks his eyes must be wide, unblinking, because they’re dry, and he feels panicked.

In his mind all he can think of is every cup of coffee in her office, every borrowed book, every sly joke in the corridor at work. Comforting smiles offered at conferences, snarky notes passed back and forth during faculty meetings. His friend. One of the truest, longest, most persevering ones in his life. One so dear to his heart. The idea of all of that being no more seems almost too painful to contemplate in the middle of a restaurant, with your fault thundering in his chest.

Rachel waves a hand. Feigns nonchalance and offers a watery smile.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” she says. He doesn’t miss the waver in her voice, nor the harsh splash of crimson humiliation that stains the skin of her face. “I am. Really.”

Except he doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know what there is to be happy for. Can only watch her face. Can only sit, and stare like a fool at the way the skin beneath her eyes tightens as she draws back tears.

“I’m—” Rachel swallows. Sucks in a huge breath and flattens her palms against the table. Her napkin, stained with soft blots of red and brown, is pressed beneath the fingers of her left hand. The one with the sunspots and the ring and the scar. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to use the restroom—”

“Rach,” he tries, hand reaching across the table for—for what? Joel isn’t sure. What is there to do? To say? “What can I do?”

“It’s okay,” she stands, holds a hand out to silence him. Steps out from the behind table and squeezes past him. Her fingers brush against his arm as she goes. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just need a second to freshen up.”

Joel watches her weave through the restaurant, shifting around tables, until her back disappears through a door at the far end of the room.

There’s a minute of painful quiet. A sort of buzzing in his ears that won’t go away. For a moment all he’s aware of is the look of disdain coming from the woman on the table to his left, and the sharp pain in his chest, and then the sounds of the restaurant come rushing back in. Cutlery scraping against plates, conversation, laughter, the sound of a bell ringing. And something buzzing, really truly buzzing this time. Something against his leg.

Joel pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries not to wince when he sees her name on the screen.

Are you enjoying your dinner?

The glance he spares over his shoulder is short, searching, looking to see if she’s coming back yet. Don’t make this worse than it already is.

Yeah, the restaurant is nice.

What are you doing?

Well my bags are packed, and I just tucked myself into bed

Something tightens in his stomach, and he knows what she’s doing, knows this game so well. The way she always manages to creep beneath his skin. Knows exactly what to say, to do, to have him hanging on her every word.

His fingers hover over the screen, contemplating a response.

Is that right? he types out, and then grimaces, backspacing quickly.

Want some company? he types next.

“Christ,” Joel mutters under his breath, erasing that too.

Embarrassment itches across his body. And then guilt, like a tidal wave chaser rushing to cool his inflamed skin, as he notices Rachel walking back toward him. You fucking asshole.

He straightens in his seat, tucking his phone out of sight as she hovers beside the table, eyes darting between him and her empty chair. She doesn’t sit down again.

“I think,” she takes a deep breath. “I think I should probably go. Early flight to catch, you know? I need to get some rest.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

He can feel his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded, ridiculous, as his brain scavenges for something to say. Never the right words, never when he needs them. Not for her, and not for Rachel.

Rachel reaches for her purse, and he holds out a hand. “Hey, let me… I’ll cover this.”

She pauses, nods. “Thanks.”

“Course,” he says gruffly. She pulls her coat from the back of her chair, wraps it around herself and does the buttons up slowly. Her mascara is smudged. “Hey, Rach, can we… should we talk about this some more? I don’t want to—”

“Not tonight,” she interrupts sharply. “Please, Joel, I’m sorry, just…. not tonight.”

—lose you.

“Sure, okay.” His throat is tight, your fault lodged heavy against his Adam’s apple. “You need help to get a taxi?”

“I’m fine,” she places a hand lightly on his shoulder, and presses her thumb against the skin beneath his collarbone. “Get home safe, okay? We can talk in Maine.”

“In Maine,” he repeats, and the words split and sour inside his mouth. “Okay.”

He doesn’t watch her leave. Doesn’t want to have to see her retreating from him. Doesn’t want to think about if this will be the last time they get to do this.

The waiter returns and he pays the bill, hastily jotting down a generous tip, and offers the women at the table on his left a tight-lipped smile before standing up.

When he finally makes his way outside, he finds a tax idling by the curb, lights on. The driver notices Joel staring; rolls down the window and raises his eyebrows. Where to?

Joel only shakes his head a little, leans his back against the dank, cold brick wall behind him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before opening his phone, and sends two words.

Show me.

And then, when she doesn’t respond for a moment, he sends another message. Insistent now. Desperate, and even more desperate not to let it show.

I know you want to show me, sweetheart.

And when she does show him, it takes all of his might not to let this guilt consume him. Takes everything not to ruminate on how quickly he can shift from I’m sorry to Show me.

Because her skin.

So much skin.

Soft, smooth; shrouded in a robe that covers more than he’d like, and he knows how it tastes. Knows how it feels. Could press his fingers, his lips, his nose, to every part of it that he’s touched, in the exact same places, from memory alone.

It’s cold outside – windy, the beginnings of tomorrow’s storm twisting through the air. He feels it snake across his neck, curl beneath the lip of his collar, as he takes in the curve of her breast, the stiff point of her nipple, peeking out from behind white fabric. His cock stiffens in his pants.

He gazes at the softest part of her stomach, the thatch of curls that cover her mound, and wants to press his palms against the plush of her thighs. Wants to lay himself atop her, feel that skin against his again, hear her whimper and moan beneath the broad weight of him as he slips inside her. Wants to snatch her finger from her mouth and glide it inside his own. With her slick and her skin against his tongue, he’d sink his teeth in and inhale that warmth, that beating, pulsating force that he’s found himself so intoxicated by.

And to think, only hours ago, he was doing just that. Lowering himself to the ground in a public bathroom and drinking her down. Feeling the muscles in her thighs pull tight and then loose against the sides of his head. Anything to satisfy the craving that only she seems to inspire in him.

Resolute, persistent – a probing, prodding thing that nips at his heels and thrusts him forward at a double time pace.

A hunger that follows him down the nights and down the days.

A hunger that can only ever be sated like the taking of a sacrament – on his knees, devotion in his eyes.

Jesus.

Are you wet?

You know I am.

Are you touching yourself?

Joel’s jaw tightens. He holds his breath and waits. Can’t quite tell what would be worse; knowing that she’s touching herself, alone, thinking about him, or that she isn’t, that she’s waiting for him. He can feel his cock leaking against his thigh.

No.

He exhales heavily, and the faintest hint of a groan slips out with it. Fuck, pull yourself together.

Joel’s fingers float over the keyboard, and for a moment he thinks of Rachel.

Thinks that if he could only bring himself to look up, to look away from her, he might be able to see Rachel still. The back of her coat, the dark scrawl of her hair, disappearing into the night. Joel thinks of the tears in her eyes, taunting him, threatening to spill spill spill, to streak down rosy cheeks and wet the hollow of her throat. Feels something throb and crack in his chest – a painful, resounding ache that hurts so much like fear, like loss.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

And wouldn’t that be so much easier? If he were to look away, to chase his friend down the street and tell her that he was wrong, that he wants her, that it makes sense for them to be together. Wouldn’t it be easier if that were true?

But he doesn’t stop looking at her. He thinks of Pothos, of Himeros, and stares at the soft curve of her stomach, the indent of her belly button. Looks at the way her lower lip rests below her finger and pictures it swollen, slick with a medley of her spit and his. Even notices a small mark, nestled in the crevice between her hip and the top of her thigh. A fading remnant of where his teeth had once pinched – like a tangible little footprint, whispering that he was there.

Longing and desire flame between the cracks of his ribs; a bright white heat that curls itself around your fault until he manages to shake the thought.

What was it that Kaminsky said? There was no mythology: Odysseus hanged himself. Homer drank to death and stank of mud.

And perhaps he was right; for there is no witness to this. No being over his shoulder, God or mortal, to lay their eyes upon this moment and understand that all he has ever known of love is deprivation. That fondest, blindest, weakest part of his being that has always yearned for, or perhaps grieved over, this love that once seemed so intangible and now, at last, maybe he has been deemed worthy of.

Alone so long, living in a body grown accustomed to such quiet. Familiar with no touch other than that of his own rough palms. And now… the intensity of it shakes within him. The urge to sink his teeth in like a bad dog and hold, hold, hold, to consume and be consumed, and never yield to anyone who wants to take this away from him.

No, there is no looking away from that, from her. Joel feels the noose tighten around his neck the longer he stares – a dog on the leash of its own longing, that need only sharpening with every second that dares to pass.

And Joel knows that nothing has ever been easy. Considers the idea that maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for him. And perhaps he doesn’t want easy, doesn’t want simple. No – Joel was always drawn to the flame.

Good.

Dinner finished early. Where are you?

And that flame welcomes him now in kind. The arms of a lover spread open for embrace; the address of her hotel sent directly to his phone.

Joel looks up and makes eye contact with the taxi driver again. Light still on.

Where to?

**the Kaminsky mentioned in this is Ilya Kaminsky, and the quote is from Dancing in Odessa.

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction

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