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ohproserpine · 10 months ago

Text

iii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder

The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.

"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.

After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.

"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."

"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.

"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"

"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"

"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.

"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.

"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?"

"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”

"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."

"Oh, come on—"

"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"

Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."

Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"

"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.

"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.

"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."

Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.

The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.

“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”

"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"

Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.

Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"

Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.

"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"

"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.

"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.

"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her.

With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.

"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.

Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"

In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.

"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.

"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!

"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."

"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"

Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.

"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."

"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."

A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.

In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.

Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.

"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"

Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.

"You—"

"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"

The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.

Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."

He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."

With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.

"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."

"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"

Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."

Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.

'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.

Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.

"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"

"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."

"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."

Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."

"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"

The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."

A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."

"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"

"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."

As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.

"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"

"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."

"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."

With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.

"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.

Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"

Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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sooniebby · 3 months ago

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ఌ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

W.C › 5.6k

Warnings › Chapter 1. Male omegas have a bit of a strange anatomy. Tried to explain it well. In any case, male omegas have pussies.

Plot › You go through a Pseudo heat and learn more about what your parents truly did to your body

Kinks › use of pussy, dirty talk, cumming untouched

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮:

𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨 & 𝘼𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙨

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞

“Do they hate me?”

“Mhm? Who is they?”

“You know.”

“I don’t, (Name).”

“Yes you do. But mom actually likes you.”

“This again?”

“Yukina is gone. Now I’m her target. Why can’t you see that?”

“It’s nonsense, that’s why. No mother could ever hate her child. No parent would ever hate their children. Familial love is one that can’t be replaced.”

“…Naoki would understand. But you… you…”

“Naoki? Seriously? Have you taken your suppressants?”

“Naoki says I shouldn’t take it! No one else takes it. You don’t even take it. My scent is sweet, it’s not sour like yours. It’s fine—”

“(Name), think for a moment. You being an omega is already enough on the family. Would it hurt you to just try and make our parents proud? Can’t you just do this one thing for them? For us?”

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞

“Will he be okay? Has he even gone through a heat before? Is he a late bloomer?”

Miya sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she glanced over at Watanabe. You were barricaded in your bedroom—the smell of heat spilling in from underneath the door. Watanabe was by the kitchen, his hands grasped tightly at the wooden chair Miya usually used when she wanted to cook without standing.

She could already see the chipped wood forming beneath his palms. The sound of the wood breaking slowly.

She’d complain about that another time. It was a shock Watanabe was even lucid enough to not bust the door down and mate you. This sight of Watanabe was interesting. His cool bad boy facade was long gone, replaced by an anxious alpha.

You’d think Watanabe had mated you ages ago.

“Mhm. I don’t know. He’s never had a heat before because of…” Her voice trailed off, her lips pursing together. Did he know? Would it be safe to tell him? Would you even want her to tell him?

“Because of?” Watanabe muttered, finally looking over at Miya. She could see his eyes were blown, unfocused. They looked to be struggling to not narrow in at your bedroom door.

Miya didn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet. The whole journey here she wanted to get you away from him. But she could tell just from his soured scent that he wasn’t focused on fucking you. He was genuinely scared right now.

“He presented late, that’s all.” It wasn’t a total lie.

A strangled moan left your bedroom and Miya could see in seconds Watanabe’s gaze zero in on your door. His grip tightened on the chair and she heard the wood crack. Slowly his palms bleed red as he grit his teeth, closing his eyes as he began to whisper something to himself.

Miya inched over to the door, ready to defend your safety if need be. She didn’t care that she only reached his chest, stomach really. She’d fight to the death for you if she had to.

A knock on the door caught her attention. “Huh? Who…?”

“My mom.” Watanabe suddenly whispered, moving his hand away from the chair. The chair was totally destroyed, coated in his blood. His hands had pricks and splinters as he plucked out the large ones and dropped them by the trash as he stiffly walks to the front door.

“When did you even call your mom?” Miya asked, wondering what his mother could possibly do in a situation like this.

“Texted.” He bluntly said, pulling the front door open.

A chubby woman with greying brown hair pulled into a neat bun was shown, dressed in a nurse garment. Ah, that’s why. Her lips were pursed as she narrowed at Watanabe’s bleeding hands. She pulled out a first aid kit from her bag and stepped inside, handing it over to Watanabe.

Ms. Watanabe glanced around the room before sniffing the air, a frown pulling on her lips as she noticed Miya by the door. “Ah, are you Tanaka’s alpha?” She asked, walking over to Miya.

Miya hummed, needing to get used to the title. “Ah.. Yes. Furukawa Miya.”

“Watanabe Hitomi. I’m a doctor that specializes in omegas healthcare. Ah, ignore the nurse garments, today was my day off, I just put whatever on.” She laughed to herself, smiling brightly.

“Mhm. Then… can you check on (Name)? He’s never had a heat before.”

“Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure I had permission.”

“Permission?”

“Yes. Alphas are so territorial! Even with betas like me,” she giggled. “Riki, you haven’t mated Tanaka yet, yes?”

Watanabe only grunted, busy bandaging his hands.

“I’ll be back, Furukawa-San.”

Miya bowed her head. “Thank you, Watanabe-San.”

“Ah, call me Hitomi. I have a feeling we’ll be like family soon.” Hitomi grinned, opening the bedroom door and stepping inside.

Hitomi couldn’t help her gasp as she slammed the door behind herself quickly, hoping none of your scent had slipped out. She pulled out a small packet of pills and a water bottle as she stepped over to your bed.

And there you were, nude burying your face into a sweater that was seeped in Miya’s citrus scent. You whined at the sight of Hitomi, too horny to care about your nudity. Hitomi’s beta scent was refreshing. Minty like any other beta. But it was nice. Miya’s scent was doing nothing for you.

But there was something in Hitomi’s scent that caught your attention, no matter how fuzzy it was.

Ume?

Riki? Does she know him? Mhm, Ume…

“Tanaka-San, I’m sorry this is how we meet. I’m Watanabe Hitomi, Riki’s mother. He wanted me to check on you because it’s your first ever heat, yes?”

You only whined at the mention of Riki’s name. Why wasn’t he here with you right now? Did he not want you? Were you not enough?

A cool hand against your neck caused you to flinch, your eyes opening again to look at Hitomi. She smiled softly, sitting down on the bed as she rest the water bottle on the night stand.

“It’s okay, Omega. Breathe. Your Alpha loves you.” She whispered, her voice motherly. “But he can’t be here. It’s your first ever heat, it’s a dangerous time for you, Pup. He could accidentally hurt you.”

You whined, feeling your fist tighten their grip on Miya’s sweater. Hurt you? Riki would never. He could never hurt you. Just what was this lady talking about?

Hitomi chuckled. “Well you can growl so I don’t need to check that.”

Growl? You didn’t even notice you were making any noise beside whimpering.

“I have something to help with the pain, Pup. It’s a heat suppressant. Have you taken any other suppressants? One that wasn’t only for heats?”

Shame creeped up on you as you looked away, biting your lip. Hitomi watched as you slowly nod. She didn’t say anything for a moment—as if waiting for you to elaborate. You slowly reached over and pulled open your night stand’s drawer.

“Is it in here?” She asked, looking over as she reached inside and pulled out the empty packets. You watched as her calm eyes began to widen in horror as she read the name. “…L…Limited X…?! Tanaka-San, are you serious?!”

She calmed down when you responded with a whimper, curling up into yourself further in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Pup. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Hitomi leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but purr.

Doctors aren’t supposed to be this loving but you would ignore it in the fact she was your alpha’s mother. Wasn’t she practically your mother now?

“Miya said you were a late bloomer… Was that a lie? Did you present?” She took your whine as a yes. “When did you start taking Limited X?”

A grunt left your throat as you parted your lips, “…nine…”

“Nine…? When.. When did you present?!”

“Nine…”

Hitomi pulled away. You saw from the corner of your eye her panicked expression as she whispered something herself. Was it that bad? Your situation couldn’t have been that rare. She let out a sigh before turning back over to you, a small smile on her lips.

“Your parents are awful, Pup. But it’s okay now. I got you.” She whispered, her voice shaky as she reached over and gently brushed your cheek. Her hand trailed down to your neck as she touched your scent gland. A broken gasp left her lips at the tough skin her fingers grazed.

“Mhm..?” You whined

“Your scent gland isn’t even…” Her look of surprise was soon replaced with fury. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, patting your back as she stood up. “I’m sorry, Pup. I can’t let you take the suppressants. You need to let the heat run its course. Is there anything you want before I go? I’ll come back to visit you in a day or two.”

“Riki… I want Riki…”

“I’m sorry, but he can’t spend it with you. It’s for your safety, baby.”

“Please… Please… Want him…”

Hitomi pursed her lips as she glanced over at the door. “Okay. For a minute.” She left the room, leaving you alone. Your hand found the fluidity to toss Miya’s sweater across the room, wanting the citrus scent far away from your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt a cool hand gently touch your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. A low purr left your throat when your eyes met Riki’s. There he was.

Well, he was a bit far from you.

You hum and raise an eyebrow, reaching over to grab his hand and pull him closer. But he quickly resisted, pulling his hand away. The sound that leaves you is almost like that of a kicked puppy as you look at him in shock.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you were too far gone in your heat to speak now.

“Sorry… Sorry, I can’t get too close. It’s hard enough being here.” Riki muttered, his eyes looking at everything but you. You noticed his tense posture, back straight entirely with his fists clenched at his sides. The bandages wrapped around his fists catch your attention as you whimper, wondering how he got hurt in such a short amount of time.

Did Miya fight him??? Oh god, you hoped that they would get close not fight.

A strangled grunt leaving Riki’s chest made you look up at him, seeing his jaw set tight. Was your scent affecting him this badly?

“Ah, (Name), I can’t stay in here much longer.” Riki groaned, reaching down and pulling off his shirt. Your eyes widen as your legs clamp together, an eager smirk pulling on your lips. Neither can you, you felt as if you would burst if he just continued to stand there.

But whatever you thought was going to happened was ignored when he tossed the shirt at your face. Any disappointment was drowned out when you sniffed the shirt, sighing in relief at having the Japanese apricots fill your nostrils.

“Why didn’t she tell me you were naked….”

Your eyes peek open to see Riki moving away, the sound of his pants falling onto the ground causing you to purr in appreciation at the sight of his ass. He also tossed his pants at you. It hit your square in the face but you didn’t care, eager to just bury your nose in his scent.

“Riki…” You mewled, slick coating the bedsheets beneath you.

“Shh. If you say my name again I’ll cum.” He said bluntly, his hand gripping at his boxers before pulling them off. You couldn’t help the slight squeal that left you as he tossed the boxers to you. You forgot all about his pants and shirt as you bit at his boxers, purring at the fabric in your hands.

Ah, it was right against his cock.

You thought he was now coming to join you in bed but you whined as you watched him slip on some clothes. What?! What the fuck?! He changed into a plain old t-shirt and sweatpants. Where did he even get that?!

You felt like throwing a tantrum.

Here you were, pliant, soaking wet, practically begging for him. And he was only nice enough to give you his boxers?!

Riki finally turned around, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me those eyes. I’m following my mom’s instructions. I’ll visit you again tomorrow.” He walked over to you with his fingers pinching his nose. A slight giggle left your lips at the sight as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips before quickly pulling away and sprinting to the door.

“Bye!” He yelled, closing the door behind him.

He was lucky he’s cute…

You glanced down at the boxers still in your hand and sighed. This will have to do for tonight.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Aren’t they cute?”

You kneel down, peering into the small pond. The koi fish swirl around each other as you poke your finger in the water. They disburse away from your small ripple, finding safety near the other side. A slight giggle leaves your lips.

“They’re funny.”

“Funny? Mhm, I don’t know. I think you’re more funny looking.”

A gasp leaves you as you turn over to face Naoki, pouting at the laugher that begins to escape him. He falls back onto his butt while you cross your arms together and fane a look of disappointment at his teasing.

“Meanie. The girls at my school say I’m cute. And that I smell sweet!”

“Do they? What did you bribe them with?”

“B..Bri…be..? What does that mean?”

Naoki only chuckled, reaching over to pull you close with him on the grass. “Ask your teacher. But you do smell sweet, (Name). My little pudding.”

“Well…! You smell like vanilla!”

“Vanilla? That’s too sweet for an alpha like me.”

“Don’t care. You’re sweet. Sweet alphas are better than smelly alphas like Daichi.”

“Really? Then I hope you get with an alpha with the sweetest scent there is.”

“Ew! I don’t like alphas. Only you and Miya. Yuck!”

Naoki laughed. You couldn’t remember his face. It hurt so much to only remember his heart shaped smile. Why couldn’t you remember his eyes? His nose? The only person to love you and you can’t even remember him properly?

“(Name), c’mon, drink this!”

A groan left your throat as your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. You looked to your left and saw Miya holding a glass of water. She smiled and reached down, wiping at your face before helping you sit up.

“Did you sleep well? You had a big smile on your face before I woke you up.” She asked, sitting down on the bed. You hummed absentmindedly, eager to quench your thirst.

“How long has it been?”

“A week.”

“Week?! Heats only last three days…”

“Yeah will you haven’t exactly gone through a heat before. Anyway, Hitomi-San came to visit you everyday to make sure you didn’t die.”

“Die?!”

Miya hummed. “You were sometimes so cold during the night or really hot. She would sometimes stay the night to make sure you didn’t stop breathing too.”

“Crap… I don’t remember anything that happened…”

“Well you didn’t do anything embarrassing if you’re worried about that.” Miya said, taking the empty glass from you. Her lip slightly twitched as she smirked. “Ah, wait, no that’s not true… you did embarrass yourself when Watanabe came.”

You froze, looking over at Miya with a look of fear. Miya smirked and began to laugh, enjoying your panicked expression.

“What?! What did I do?”

“It was so funny… Hitomi-San was cleaning the slick off your body when Watanabe came into the room to give you fresh clothes with his scent. You practically shoved Hitomi-San off the bed to launch yourself at Watanabe. I should’ve recorded it!!”

“Is Hitomi-San okay?!”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Watanabe wasn’t, you made him fall and knock his head against your desk! Then you started crying as if you killed him because he was knocked out for a second. Anyway he had to get stitches on the back of his head.”

You stared at Miya with your mouth agape, physically imagining the event in your head. You were so glad you couldn’t remember anything. It was already bringing you shame and embarrassment at the fact you literally attacked Riki just cause of your stupid heat.

Not to mention shoving away the woman who was helping you live… Gosh, you wanted to curl up and die.

Miya had finally stopped laughing and pulled out her phone, showing you a picture she must’ve took of that night. Sure enough, there you are, naked as the day you were born. Luckily enough Miya had cropped it to where it was only the upper half of your body.

You were straddling Riki, holding his face in your hands as you looked to be in a mid cry. There was a small amount of blood on the floor from what you could tell so he really did get hurt. Miya swiped, showing a short video that was Riki waking up, looking absolutely disoriented before narrowing in on you. Immediately a blush appeared on his face and he practically bucked you off of him.

Your cries were heard in the background as you were flung off camera. Video Miya yelled something about being careful while Hitomi had moved over to you. Riki moved to stood up but soon collapsed back onto the ground, earning a shrill scream from what you could only assume was yourself. The video soon ended with Miya accidentally turning the camera on your bare butt as you once again shoved Hitomi away to get to Riki.

That was…

“Oh my god.” You whispered, wanting to end it all right then and there while Miya laughed her ass off.

“I’ve never seen you act so animal like!” Miya laughed, wiping away the stray tears from her face. “It was nice. Felt like the first time you were truly yourself. Even if it was while you were butt naked, dripping slick all over the carpet.”

“Miya!!”

“What? It’s a normal bodily function. Don’t get embarrassed.” She patted you on the back and stood up, stretching. “Anyway, Hitomi-San and Watanabe will be here in a few hours. Take a shower… a long one.”

With that, she left your room, leaving it open as Ume sprinted inside. Ume purred as she jumped onto your bed and immediately got comfortable, curling into herself. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing Ume must’ve been upset to not have access to your room for such a long time.

She hated closed doors. Ume practically owned the place.

You rubbed at your neck, groaning as you stretched your sore body. Your body sputtered for a moment as your fingers gently rubbed against the lower center of your neck. It… was a bit softer?

It was still sold and rough but there was a slight softness that wasn’t there before.

It wasn’t too late for you…?

You could be mated?

You’d have to ask Hitomi. But you couldn’t help the slight giddy smile on your lips. You could be Riki’s if it really was softening… A slight glob of slick soaked the bedsheets beneath you. You groaned, rolling your eyes. This was going to have to take some getting used to.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Miya fiddled with her phone, her eyes flickering around as she closed the apartment door behind her. Her phone began to ring—startling her out of her thoughts as she quickly answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey. How are things there?” She whispered, walking to lean over the railing. Her dyed purple hair was pulled back into a small ponytail as the wind blew her bangs upward.

The voice on the other line as hushed and quiet.

“Terrible. He’s back.”

“Which one?”

“Obviously the eldest. He had a wedding ring on his finger. I think he’s married now.”

“Married…? He didn’t tell (Name)? Does he even have a mating mark?”

“That type of alpha would never let anyone mark him. Anyway, he talked to me as if we’re friends. The nerve.”

“Shit. Did he say anything weird?”

“Besides the fact he was not so subtly making fun of me for still living at mom’s place, no. He did insult me being a mangaka, I don’t remember telling him that. Did (Name) tell him?”

“Really, Yuzuru? (Name) doesn’t even talk to his mom unless she calls. He’s not talking to Daichi.”

“Watch your mouth. I’m still the oldest, little shit. I don’t have to do this spying shit for you.”

“Then say goodbye to your precious beta reader!”

“Wait! Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I still haven’t seen Naoki. I… huh?”

“Mhm? What’s wrong?”

“Uh… Daichi just came back with a woman… an omega I think.”

“Omega? No way in hell… those alpha elitist would never mate with an omega…” Miya waited for her brother to continue speaking but she soon heard the sound of a woman talking before the phone abruptly cut off.

She cursed, ready to call Yuzuru back when she saw Hitomi and Watanabe walk up the stairs to the complex. She’d have to call him back later. With a huff, she put her phone away and grinned, waving at Hitomi.

Hitomi smiled, her eyes closing into crescent moons. “Morning, Miya-Chan! I brought breakfast for you and Tanaka. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did! (Name)-Kun is doing great thanks to your help. He just woke up a few minutes ago.” Miya reached over and took the plastic bag away from Hitomi, opening the apartment door to let them inside. She rolled her eyes at Watanabe’s lack of greeting.

She could tell he was fidgety. His eyes quickly narrowing in on your bedroom door, practically waiting for you to come out so he could see if you were truly okay.

Hitomi pulled out a MedKit from her bag, going straight to your room. She didn’t knock, just pushed the door open before shutting it behind her.

Just your luck, you were putting on your underwear when she came in. You shrieked, reaching to cover your nude body from her eyes.

“Calm down, Pup. I’ve seen everything by now.” She said honestly, resting the MedKit on your nightstand as she pulled out what looked to be a thermometer and some pills. “Come here once you’re dressed.”

You slipped on a baggy t-shirt and shorts, wondering if you should bring up the whole… shoving incident. “Uhm… If… uh.. there.. was anything weird I did… while… y’know… in heat… I uhm…”

Hitomi glanced over at you. “You mean giving my son a concussion and having him bleed out on the floor?”

Your breathing halted, your eyes widening at her words. Well when she puts it that way…

Her gaze was harsh on you before a gummy smile pulled on her lips. “It’s okay, Pup. You aren’t the craziest patient I’ve had to dealt with. You were tame. Now c’mere.”

You walked over to where she was by your desk and watched as she held up the thermometer, motioning for you to pry your lips apart.

“Besides,” she said, slipping the thermometer into your mouth. “You look cute while crying. You cared so much for my Riki. I think if Miya hadn’t held you back, you would’ve followed us to the hospital.”

“Followed…?” You muttered, taking the thermometer out of your mouth to once it beeped. Hitomi took it from you and hummed. A good temperature you’d assume.

“Yes. You wouldn’t even let me touch Riki at first. Took Riki waking back up and telling you to calm down for you to finally release him.”

“I didn’t know omegas could be… territorial.”

“Everyone is territorial. Especially for someone they love. Omegas can be scary when they want to. You almost bit me.” Hitomi said nonchalantly.

“Bit?!”

“It’s fine. Like I said, you were like a kitten compared to other patients I’ve had.” She opened the bottle of pills and poured out two capsules, handing them over to you. “You seem fine. But you didn’t go through a full heat. It was just a pre-heat. Your full heat will be in two months.”

“Only a pre-heat…? But it was intense.”

“Mhm. It was. Your body was only getting you ready. You are severely underdeveloped,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I advise you to not have any penetrative sex until your hole… has grown.”

“Grown?”

“Yes. I checked it. It’s too small for an omega. Your cock should also become small as well.”

“What? Wait? I thought male omegas could have dicks?”

“Who told you that? Male omegas are born with dicks but they lose them during their first heat. Then a vagina begins to form and your dick will become a clit. Your hole is there, just too small to be called a vagina at the moment.”

“You weren’t talking about my butt hole..?”

“No.” Hitomi frowned. “Did no one teach you about male omegas? I know they’re rare but they should still teach you all about these things. You need to know your body…” Her lips pursed as if she was in thought before looking over at the door.

You glanced over, wondering if she saw something.

“Ah. Have Riki show you where your hole is. I’m sure you don’t want me touching it.” She said, putting away her materials. “You can also have him help you stretch it. It’ll help with the process.”

“S..Stretch it..?”

“Yes. Finger you. You can always finger yourself but at least let him show you where it is.” With that, she grabbed her MedKit and left the room, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

Vagina…? Clit...? Fingering?!

You felt lightheaded. All this time, your body was underdeveloped. Your genitalia was a lie this entire time! Your cock was going to turn into a fucking clit!!!

“(Name)? Your scent soured.”

Your body jumped as the door was harshly pushed up, a tense Riki standing in the doorway. His eyes roamed your body—looking for any damage before pausing at your face. He tilted his head, walking over to you as he began to sniff you.

“What? Did my mom tell you bad news?” He asked, his hand reaching up, as if to touch your face but he stopped himself and placed it on your desk. You couldn’t help the slight whimper at that.

“No… No bad news. Just that—well—I’ll be growing a vagina!”

“Huh? You already have one. I saw it when we were in the classroom.”

“Hah?! You saw it?!”

“Mhm. It’s so tiny, I was wondering why it looked like that but I’ve never been with a male omega before.” Riki said nonchalantly, his posture relaxing now that he realized there was nothing wrong. “You’ve never felt it?”

You blushed. “Well, I don’t really masturbate touching myself down there.. just my cock.”

Riki tilted his head as a smirk pulled on his lips. “Mhm? You’ll have to learn the other way soon, your little cock is turning into a clit.” He laughed.

The urge to punch him the face was strong. He felt just like the Riki you met at the sushi restaurant. It was going to take some getting used to with Riki’s personality. It was like he could switch between a sadist and timid puppy.

“Uhm. Your mom.. said that you could help.”

“Help? You want me to touch your pussy?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked at everything but him. “Don’t call it that!”

“Why can’t I? Is it not a pussy?” Riki grinned as he moved closer, his nose teasing your neck as he leaned down. Your breathing hitched as you subconsciously tilted your head, giving him easy access to your scent gland. “I was sad that I’ll have to wait so long to properly fuck you…”

His hand grasped your crotch, earning a stuttered gasp from you as your body tensed. Your hand gripped the desk behind you for stability as he harshly fondled you. “But fingering you until you get a proper pussy sounds hot. I’ll be making a pussy just for me to touch. For me to fuck. For me to knot whenever I please.”

“Riki…” you gasped. The thought was already intoxicating. Any fear you had about this new body part growing was long gone at the thought of Riki truly molding you into something just for him. You were only disappointed that you’d have to wait so long to get what your body so desperately craves.

Only two month… You can last two months…

“Do you like that? The thought of your body changing itself just from my touch?” He whispered, his hand gripping your cock through your shorts. Your body arched against the desk as you feel your legs part to give Riki easier access.

“Nngh… That’ll… That’ll make me good for Alpha.” You manage to whine, looking up at him with watery eyes. Riki’s eyes widen before he chuckled, pressing a kiss on your neck.

“You’re already a good omega for me, (Name). But I won’t lie and say you getting a pretty pussy won’t make me happy. I can already imagine sinking my fingers inside, stretching you wide before I stuff you with my knot. Would you like that, Omega? My knot stretching you, ruining you for me and only me?”

A strangled cry left your throat as the thought clouded your mind and your hands gripped the desk, your toes curling. Your body felt as if it was spasming until you felt a growing wetness in your shorts.

Riki released your crotch as he glanced down, a laugh leaving his lips. “You came untouched. Did I excite you that much?”

“Shut up.” You weakly whine, wanting to curl up into a ball and die.

“Ahem.”

You and Riki’s body froze as there was a slight knock on the door. There stood Miya, her face unimpressed.

“We are still here, by the way. Maybe close the door if you’re going to start having sex.” She said, “Also there’s breakfast, (Name)… come get it after you take a shower… again.”

This was it. You were going to die of embarrassment.

Riki looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You could tell he must’ve realized his mother heard his dirty talking. Hopefully they didn’t hear everything…

“Uh… We can talk about the whole fingering thing later.” You whispered.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

In front of him, he stood tall, overpowering. His scent was musky—drowning out any other scent in the room. Brown eyes flickered around the living room before settling on a framed picture on the wall near the TV.

You, so young and cute, a wide smile while Miya hugged you tightly against her chest. It was an older picture, around the age of thirteen. Yuzuru was standing behind the both of you, aged eighteen, a small slight smile on his lips. His large circular glasses taking up half of his face.

Daichi looked over Yuzuru now, sitting on the couch across of him. Glasses long gone and smile replaced a tight frown. It was a shame, Daichi thought to himself. Yuzuru was supposedly an omega but looked nothing like it.

He took another look at Yuzuru, wondering how he gained so much weight. Yuzuru wasn’t the stick thin omega he was back in high school. He was fuller, his mother must be over feeding him.

Yuzuru kissed his teeth together, catching Daichi’s attention. “If you’re done scrutinizing me, why are you here?”

Mrs. Furukawa gently patted Yuzuru’s lap, giving him a tight smile. “What Yuzu was saying.. Is what made you want to visit us? It’s been forever.”

Daichi grinned, opening his coat and pulling out an envelope. “It’s nothing special.” He said. “Yuzuru is almost in his late twenties and my colleagues mentioned something about a blind date for omegas to find an alpha. I’m sure… it would be helpful for your case.”

A pin could be dropped as Yuzuru’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his fingers dug into the armchair of the couch. He looked ready to blow, jump across this stupid coffee table and show Daichi what he was made of. But his mother grabbed his arm as she grabbed the envelope from Daichi.

“Is that?” She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.

“Ah. Yes… You have (Name)’s address, yes? I want to talk to him.”

“Why would I willingly give you his address?” Yuzuru muttered.

“Well… It’s been ages since I’ve seen my little brother.. I wanted to check up on him.”

“You can call him.” Yuzuru whispered.

Daichi hummed. “I guess I could. I suppose I wanted to get a better look at you, Yuzuru. Since you seem to be so interested in me these days.”

Yuzuru froze, looking away. He noticed? What the fuck?

With the tension tight and heavy, Daichi left without another word.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were gently drying your hair when you grabbed your phone off the night stand. There was texts and emails that you didn’t care too much about responding to except one from a number you didn’t recognize.

It was just a picture that they sent.

You clicked on the picture and felt the color drain from your face.

It wasn’t just one picture. It was two.

One picture of an ultrasound.

And another of a wedding.

Daichi and a woman you’ve seen before.

But she was an omega… Why would someone like Daichi marry her?

But that wasn’t the most important thing you cared about. No, you cared more about who she was. Who she was before supposedly becoming Daichi’s wife, his mate.

Naoki’s ex girlfriend.

Sorry for the wait! I just recently moved to my college dorms, forgot to write lol. Hopefully it won’t take too long for chapter 3, there will be actual smut in that one, trust.. ask to be added to the tag list for riki’s story. Some people don’t show up when I try to tag them tho, sorry about that :/ also there’s a limit smh

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @lanoslamp @sweetheart4you @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @remdayz @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @chososlittlestuttyboy @terapung @gay4letti @lixamplanet @oreoqueen @1account2blogs @hnazwan @blaxvoid @theorye @yanrandom @berrycolaa @darlinqvi @diamondnightsky23 @yourn0tmydad @https-tan-com @kiekole @cinder-angel @yuzuukix @sugar-p0p @anime-meme-sanctuary @caffineandoranges @barbatos-mybeloved @gaynesspersonified @sheepame @snowtiger00 @kgeyamaa @teoluvsyou @chweuphoria @sooobiinn @hope0o0 @yoon-zino @mef0rg0r @gojosdumpydump @me-when-life

Translations:

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞ — brother, why didn’t you protect me?

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞ — why? It’s painful, Naoki

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

1K notes · View notes

loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

Text

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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

You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

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punkshort · 2 months ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 8: Line in the Sand

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: For your last few days on the island, you and Joel spend as much time together as possible. Glenn announces the winner of the land at dinner on the last day and new secrets come to light about Joel's past.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mentions and discussions of prior violence against reader and OC, descriptions of healing wounds, reader has long-ish hair, fluff, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), shower sex, unprotected piv sex, possessive behavior, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), alcohol consumption, verbal altercation with the woman we all love to hate

WC: 10.1K

Series Masterlist

It's starting. It's just the beginning. Soon, you'll see.

You'll see the kind of man he really is. And then you'll want nothing to do with him.

He told Glenn to come up to the room while you both scrambled to get decent, his heart thudding wildly in his chest but not because of Glenn and what he anticipated to be a very difficult conversation. No, he was terrified because when you heard what he was capable of, you would never look at him the same again.

You slipped your hand into his when you left his bedroom, your free hand fidgeting nervously with your hair, trying to conceal the brutal marks left on your face when a loud knock came at the door.

Joel let you go and motioned towards the couch before taking a deep breath and jogging lightly up the three steps from the sunken living room to answer the door.

Glenn's face was unreadable when Joel first laid eyes on him. He looked tired and worn out, but it was impossible to tell much else. His usual jovial spirit was long gone and replaced with a stony expression when he solemnly nodded to Joel in greeting before stepping into the foyer and sliding his shoes off.

"Got someplace where we can talk?" he asked.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, ushering him towards the living room where you sat waiting and anxiously fiddling with the edge of a soft white blanket. Glenn locked eyes with you, his gaze sweeping around your face, clocking the bruise under your eye and the nasty gash on your lip but also the terrified look in your face, swollen from your tears and injuries alike.

"Jesus, honey," Glenn breathed, shaking his head and dropping his chin. He pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back up at you. "Do you need anything? You need a doc? I got someone who'll make house calls within the hour."

You shook your head and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'm okay. Looks worse than it feels by now."

Joel stepped past Glenn to join you on the couch, placing a protective hand on your leg before motioning for Glenn to have a seat across from you, bracing himself for what was to come.

Glenn settled into the couch with the deep groan of a man who had been up all night. Joel could see more in his face now that he had help from the sunlight. Glenn was tired, sure, but he was also... scared?

"Well, no use in beating around the bush," Glenn began, brushing his palms on his khaki shorts. "Been a long night for everyone."

Joel nodded and you dropped your gaze to the floor. Here we go.

Glenn's eyes darted to Joel's hand, the one placed on your leg, the one that sported red scrapes on the knuckles like a badge of honor. He didn't flinch. Didn't try to hide it. Joel stood by what he did, regardless of how deranged he felt doing it.

Then, Glenn's voice cut through the fog settling around Joel's brain, the one readying all his excuses and arguments.

"I'm sorry."

Joel blinked and stared at Glenn, waiting for him to finish his thought, but it never came. So, Joel did it for him.

"Sorry for... takin' back the land?"

He felt you stiffen beside him and then your eyes were burning holes into the side of his head.

Glenn scoffed and shook his head.

"I ain't taking back the land, Joel. Christ."

Your eyes were now bouncing back and forth between them both, remaining silent while trying to keep up. Joel couldn't blame you because he himself was having trouble and you knew even less than him.

"Are you - y'mean -"

Glenn gave him a look of disbelief and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees while Joel began to rub nervous circles over your knee with the pad of his thumb.

"Joel, I didn't come here to go back on my word. The spot's yours. Hell, it was yours less than a week in. Knew it from the first night you were here. At dinner. Remember?"

He pointed a finger at you both, gaze sliding back and forth at your dumbstruck faces.

"You're different now, Joel. Different from the man I knew, and I mean that in the best way," Glenn continued, giving you a pointed look. Your cheeks warmed at the implication you had anything to do with it and you focused on your hands fidgeting in your lap. "And you said you'd hire locals for construction and design. That means a lot to me. This place means a lot to me. I want to see it thrive, I don't want to see someone take that land and make it just another source of revenue." Glenn scratched at the stubble on his jaw when he paused for a moment, his eyes still bouncing between you both. "I believe you'll treat this land and its people with respect. That's why you're gettin' the spot, Joel."

Joel nodded, glancing quickly at you before looking back at Glenn. "Thank you. Then, uh, what're you sorry for?"

Glenn's eyes dropped to his hands, fingers laced together tightly between his knees. His jaw tensed and brow furrowed when he finally said, "I'm sorry for what my boy did."

You looked at Joel, waiting for him to reply, but he just sat back and put his arm around your shoulders, deferring to you.

Clearing your throat, you met Glenn's eye and gave him a soft smile.

"Thank you. I don't think he meant to take it as far as he did-"

"No need to make excuses for him, honey," Glenn said sadly. "He's been struggling with substance abuse for some time. Combined with his short temper and... well... he's been difficult to deal with the past few years. Been giving him chance after chance to prove himself but I'm afraid this time is unforgivable."

You fell silent and looked to Joel again. He tightened his fingers around your shoulder and shifted a bit in his seat.

"'M sorry, too," he said, his tone somber. "Shouldn'tve done what I did. Came home from the boat last night and saw her," Joel nodded to you, eyes locking with yours before continuing, "and I just lost it. Shoulda called you or somethin' first."

Glenn shook his head and waved Joel off.

"I'm not looking for an apology. He deserved to be put in his place. Never in my life thought he'd do something like this to a woman, made me and Mary sick to our stomachs."

Joel ticked his jaw to the side before awkwardly asking, "He outta the hospital?"

You whipped your head in Joel's direction, eyes widened with shock.

"Yeah. Cops came to speak to him around five this morning. Don't worry, he didn't say a word 'bout you."

"Wouldn't blame either of you if you did," Joel countered, flexing and stretching the fingers on his right hand.

"Was sorta hoping we leave the cops out of the whole situation, for both our sakes," Glenn explained, guilt lacing his voice as he sidestepped the obvious request: please don't call the cops on my son.

Once again, Joel deferred to you. You were still reeling from the fact Joel put Brooks in the fucking hospital, and now both men were looking for you to make the ultimate decision.

"It- it's fine," you stammered, "I don't want either of you to get in trouble," you added, looking at Joel now.

Both men appeared visibly relieved.

"I appreciate that more than you know," Glenn told you, drawing your gaze off Joel. "I promise you, he'll be dealt with. Mary and I had a tough conversation this morning but we've both agreed to leave the business solely with Trevor and focus on getting Brooks the help he needs."

"That's probably for the best," Joel replied.

Glenn gave you each a sad smile before taking a deep breath and standing with a groan.

"I'll get outta your hair now. Been a long night for everyone, but I'm still hoping I'll see you Friday night for dinner. Not much time left now to enjoy the island and I'd like to announce my decision to the group."

Joel stood while you remained curled up on the couch.

"'Course. Well, dependin' on how she feels," he said, glancing down at you. You gave him a small smile in agreement before he stepped forward to walk Glenn to the door. You could hear the two men talking quietly in the foyer, something about Mary finding a good rehab facility on a neighboring island, but your head was beginning to pound from a combination of what you just learned and the bruise under your eye to really pay much attention.

"Are you okay?" Joel asked the moment the door clicked shut behind Glenn. You looked up to see him crossing the room with a concerned look on his face. "That was a lot. I-I'm sorry, I could tell you were overwhelmed-"

"Why didn't you tell me about the land?"

He stopped a few feet away from you and looked over his shoulder where your phone and purse remained on the dining room table.

"I did. I texted you last night, but," he turned back around, guilt flashing across his face. "Couldn't tell you in person after what happened. Thought I lost it and didn't wanna upset you."

"Oh," you said softly, blinking slowly a few times before standing. "You... he had to go to the hospital?"

Joel chewed his lower lip nervously and nodded, fingers fidgeting at his sides while he tried to read your expression. He wanted to go to you. He wanted to pull you close and explain everything, but he was terrified of scaring you off. Now that he had a taste of you, he knew deep down if he lost you, he would never recover.

Now you'll understand the type of man he is. The type of man that stops at nothing to get what he wants. The type of man who hurts people if he has to, regardless of who they are.

But then, to his surprise, you closed the gap between you and wrapped your arms around him, wordlessly burying your face against his chest. He immediately responded, exhaling loudly and cocooning you in his arms. A few strands of your hair fluttered when he pressed his mouth against the top of your head and closed his eyes.

It was bliss, having you tucked into him. Your perfect, soft body pressed against his made him wonder why the hell he resisted you for so long. You didn't run when you learned what he was capable of, maybe you wouldn't run if you learned the rest.

"It's almost noon," you mumbled, pulling your head back to gaze up at him. "What do you want to do today?"

He grinned and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"Anything you want."

The Holi Festival was a colorful and beautiful celebration of love and good over evil. You learned this very quickly when you were strolling the streets hand in hand after lunch, drawn to the noise and music in the center of the little town.

You let out a squeal of excitement and squeezed Joel's hand when you turned the corner and saw the festival in full swing. Rich scents of sweet and savory foods filled the air and vibrant colors of powder paint were tossed around, coating everybody and everything in vivid bright pinks, yellows, greens and blues. It took your breath away. Never in your life had you ever seen something so unique and beautiful. Smiling faces filled the town square with buckets of colorful powder scattered around. Hands dipped into jars and bowls, scooping up the paint to brush against loved one's faces, decorating everybody in the most beautiful colors.

You tried to hang back and just observe, but the Indo-Fijians were such a lovely people that they ushered you over, excited to include you even if you didn't fully understand the meaning behind the festival. Initially, you expected Joel to pull you back, to say you should keep walking, but shockingly he was just as intrigued as you. A sweet young woman named Lia brought you over to a covered area where her family had set up chairs and tables filled with plates and food and a small speaker blaring Indian music.

"May I?" she asked, pointing to the powders on the curb. You grinned and looked up at Joel, practically bouncing from excitement. And how could he say no? After what you had been through, anything that made you smile that much was worth it.

You nodded and dropped his hand so you could sit down and let Lia apply the paints as she saw fit. Initially, you thought the colors were random, that it was more of an aesthetic thing, but she paused and contemplated her choices, her dark brown eyes shifting back and forth between you and Joel before smiling and scooping up a handful of red paint and smearing it carefully over your face, avoiding your injuries and not asking any questions.

"What does the red symbolize?" you asked when you stood to look at your reflection in a small hand mirror. She only laughed and said, "You'll see."

She applied a lime green paint to Joel's cheeks, telling him the same thing when he asked the meaning, then offered you each a plate of food. You declined, explaining you just ate, and thanked her for her hospitality before venturing back out onto the street. Live music was starting two blocks down and an area was being cleared for dancing. You both found a bench just outside of the main area to sit together and enjoy the festivities, commenting on the outfits, the music, the dancing, the overall beauty of the festival with your legs slung across his lap until the sun began to dip below the trees and the children were ushered home to bed.

"We oughta get outta here before the real fun starts," Joel joked, standing from the bench and holding out his hand. You took it and let him help you up, then walked slowly back in the general direction of your hotel.

"I'm so happy you won the land," you told him, hand wrapping around his bicep and head tilting to rest against his arm. "These people and this island are so lovely. I can see why Glenn cares about it so much."

"Was thinkin' of offerin' that artist you liked a job," Joel said, "if they want to, I could commission 'em to paint for the hotel. Everythin' from the lobby to the rooms."

"Really?" you said excitedly. He nodded and grinned, pleased he could make you so happy.

You stopped in the middle of the street and turned to stretch up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips gently against his.

"Careful," he murmured, yet made no move to pull away, the taste of your lips so sweet and still coated in sugar from the pastry-type dessert he bought from a street vendor.

"It doesn't hurt so much now," you told him, looking up at him through your lashes. Joel swallowed tightly, his eyes roaming all over your face, still painted bright red. He brought a hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb gliding slowly over your cheek, swiping through the paint and leaving a trail up towards your ear, up where his hand got lost in your hair and his mouth hungrily found yours again. People in a nearby cafe were laughing and across the street, two dogs were barking at one another while their owners tried to break them apart but as far as either one of you were concerned, you were completely alone.

Joel leaned into the kiss, fingers threading through your hair, clutching you to him as he struggled to be gentle. He had to be careful with you. You were still fragile, despite what you might say. But god, did he want you. Every single thing about you drove him wild. Your taste, your smell, your laugh, the little crease between your eyebrows when you were worried, the strands of hair that were too short to tuck behind your ear and frequently dangled in front of your eyes. Your entire presence cocooned around him to the point where it drove him insane.

"We should celebrate," you panted, tipping your head back to break the kiss. He dragged in deep breaths, fighting for air and staring down into your lust filled eyes, no doubt mirroring his own. "You got what you came here for."

"Then let's celebrate," he mumbled, brain wrapped in a rosy haze, drunk from your kiss alone.

He leaned in again, uncaring of any pedestrians passing by and doing a double take at your very public display of affection, but you giggled and dodged him, making his lips curve up into a playful smile right before he pressed a kiss behind your ear.

"W-what do you want to do to celebrate?" you asked, eyes sliding closed, body melting into his hold as he continued to kiss your neck. "Do you want to get a drink somewhere, or - shit," you moaned softly when his hands pulled your hips against his to feel his erection through his jeans. "Or maybe we can find that place that has fire dancers."

"I wanna go back to the room," he whispered in your ear, "and I wanna take a shower."

"Okay," you breathed, eyelids fluttering as you continued to fall under his spell.

"And I want you to shower with me."

"Yes, that's a great idea," you breathlessly agreed, breaking away and swiveling around in his arms to practically drag him the remaining few blocks to your hotel.

You felt like you were floating.

Soap mixed with red and green circled the drain. Steam swirled around you, the warmth from the shower making your sticky skin even hotter. You felt boneless, mouth agape and fingers shaky from the way Joel knelt before you, licking and sucking ruthlessly at your center. Knowing he wouldn't be able to kiss you the way he really wanted, he was taking out all his frustration right between your legs, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were weak. So weak in every possible way for him that if you had a choice, you would succumb and slink to the shower floor. But his broad shoulders hoisted you up, his big hands gripped your hip and thigh, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall.

Rivulets of water dripped down your neck, arms, and stomach, leaving trails down your overly sensitive skin, making you shudder and gasp. The build up was too intense that it was ruining you and he hadn't even fucked you yet. The walk back to the hotel was interrupted when Joel couldn't wait a second longer and he tugged you into a narrow alley. He dragged his mouth as lightly as he could over yours while his hand found its way between your legs, two fingers rubbing firm circles over the damp fabric of your panties until neither of you could stand it any longer. He tugged your underwear to the side and sunk both fingers inside you, his body blocking you from being seen by anyone who might have caught a glimpse from the street.

Your fingers clutched desperately at his shirt, one of the shirts you had picked out for him on your first day on the island, and you whimpered against his lips or throat, anywhere you could find to try and stabilize yourself while he tore you apart. His name fell from your lips over and over, your face scrunched up in concentration and jaw clenched tightly until your climax washed over you and every muscle relaxed, every word dying on your tongue until you nearly collapsed.

The ache between your legs was soothed, but it only served to make Joel hungrier and more desperate.

You figured that out when he rushed you into the shower, pushing you up against the glass wall and falling to his knees before the water was even warm. Streaks of green dripped down his face and stained his beard while his tongue swirled and sucked at your clit with a deep groan, which was the same position you found yourself ten minutes later on the brink of your second orgasm that threatened to destroy you from the inside out.

And you were almost there, teetering on the edge when his eyes flashed open and locked onto yours. He looked different, then. Like he was finally letting down those walls and showing you everything. You saw a myriad of emotions behind his eyes: longing and lust mixing with adoration and warmth. It sent you careening into your next orgasm, shouting his name so loud your throat fucking hurt, your voice bouncing and echoing inside the glass walls.

He pulled away looking pleased, mouth and beard all shiny and slick, eyes never leaving yours as you struggled to come back to earth.

Carefully, he set you down on wobbly legs, giving you a smug smirk before angling his face towards the luxurious rainfall shower head. He rinsed off the rest of the green paint before wetting a washcloth and turning back to you. With all the care in the world, he tipped your chin up, his thumb pressing gently into the soft flesh between your jaw while he worked on cleaning your face next. You gazed up at him with a soft, stupid expression, but you couldn't help yourself. You'd never felt more relaxed and at peace in your life, and it was all because of him.

Him. This man you once deemed haughty, conceited, rude, and brash you now viewed with so much affection that it would have rattled you if he gave you a chance to come up for air.

Joel ushered you forward, rinsing your hair and warming you up under the steady stream of water before squirting some citrusy smelling shampoo in his palm and gently combing it through your hair. You sighed and tipped your head back, body betraying your still very desperate need for him. His thick fingers gingerly rinsing the soap from your hair was so relaxing, you thought you might fall asleep standing up. That is, until you felt his cock, still hanging hard and heavy between his legs, nudge against your hip and your eyelids snapped open.

"We don't gotta," he assured you, voice deep and soft behind you. "Been a long day."

You snaked your hand behind you and wrapped your fist around him. He hissed and his fingers in your hair faltered for a moment as you slowly stroked him up and down.

"I want it," you begged, voice still raw. His cock twitched in your palm and you heard his breath stutter before he leaned down to press a wet kiss against the crook of your neck.

"You sure?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, working your hand a little faster. The glass had steamed up but you could still see his reflection, his brows pinched and jaw hung open, allowing himself to enjoy your hand on him for just another moment more before gripping your shoulder and walking you towards the wall. He took both your wrists, shushing your whine when you were forced to let him go, and placed your open palms against the glass.

A thrill of excitement shot through you when he knocked your ankle to the side with his foot. You immediately widened your stance and arched your back, anticipating exactly what he wanted.

"So pretty," he murmured behind you, his palm sliding down your shoulder, over your back and wrapping around your hip. You tried to peer at him in the reflection of the glass but your own nervous exhale was clouding your limited view.

You jumped a little when the tip of his cock slid through your folds, coating himself in your arousal. He chuckled before leaning down and biting playfully at your earlobe.

"Sensitive?"

You nodded and closed your eyes when he notched himself at your entrance. And somehow, your cunt still ached for him despite the two orgasms he already gave you in the past hour.

You lifted yourself onto the tips of your toes and gasped when he pushed inside, the stretch burning yet it still felt so fucking good. You moaned and pressed your wet forehead to the foggy glass wall, relishing in the way he filled you so perfectly when he sunk the rest of the way inside you.

"Fuck, so tight," Joel groaned into your hair. "So tight, 'n so fuckin' good," he added, voice a little shaky when he first dragged his hips back just to slam them into you again. He set a steady pace right away, his need for you way too fucking high after watching you come on his fingers and tongue.

"Oh, god," you whimpered, fingers clawing fruitlessly against the slippery wall as he fucked you, knocking your cheek and shoulders into the glass over and over and over again with each impossibly deep thrust.

"You're the most beautiful fuckin' thing," he growled in your ear, the fast puffs of exhale leaving his pursed lips sending goosebumps over your skin. "Drive me crazy, you got no idea. No idea how bad I want this, want you."

You whined and squirmed in his grasp, cock reaching a place so deep inside you that it had your mind going blank and your vision going blurry with tears.

"Yeah, you like that, huh?" he rasped, teeth scraping delicately over your skin, hands roaming freely over your body, claiming every inch of you as his. "Take it so fuckin' good, baby, shit," he ground his molars together, pounding into you harder now while your fingers curled into tight fists against the steamy glass. "That's my girl, so good f'me. So fuckin' good f'me," he rambled like a mad man, unable to stop himself now from selfishly chasing his high when he was so close. But he wasn't that selfish. He needed to make sure you came, too.

He snaked his arms around your front, one hand finding your nipple, pinching and rolling it between two fingers while his other dropped past your waist to rub tight circles over your clit. You cried out, face twisting as you did your best to give him what he wanted, but you were so sensitive that the pleasure bordered on pain.

"Tell me what you need," he demanded, sensing the tension in your muscles. When you struggled to answer, he slowed his hips and your eyes flew open.

"Don't stop."

"Then talk to me," he pleaded, "tell me-"

"Say it again," you groaned, pushing your ass back.

"Say what?" he panted, grinding his hips against you.

"Say..." you cursed under your breath, eyelids fluttering when the finger he had over your clit added the slightest bit more pressure. "Say... I'm your girl," you told him, embarrassment flooding your cheeks the moment you asked.

He grinned and descended upon your neck, sucking and biting at the tender spot behind your ear so when he lifted his mouth and whispered, "You're my girl," there was no way you could miss it over the splashing of water against the tile and glass. Almost as if it were a command, your muscles stiffened and you moaned softly, too tired and too spent to offer much else as your orgasm slowly rolled through you, clenching down around his aching cock, practically milking him with each pulse and flutter of your cunt.

"Fuck, that's it," he muttered, pulling back so he could watch himself disappear inside you over and over. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! You- you like that? Hm? That's all it took?"

He could feel the liquid heat pooling low in his belly and creeping up his spine, seconds away from his own release.

"Shit, baby, y'know you're mine. All - fuckin' - mine," he grunted, punctuating each word with a harsh snap of his hips. Your body was so soft now that he made you come for a third time, so tired and pliant, but still eager to give him what he needed. "My girl... all mine... my girl..." he muttered over and over when his grip on your ribs suddenly tightened and he spilled inside you with a deep groan, hips jolting into you haphazardly as he emptied himself into your waiting pussy, thrusting upwards until he felt his spend leak out of you and back down his shaft.

"Fuck, baby," he gasped, breath shaky and uneven against the back of your head. His vision was a little wobbly but he blinked it away. He could feel you were beginning to slip, all your strength having been sapped, and if he wasn't so exhausted himself, he might have felt a flash of pride.

"Ah," he grunted softly when he slipped out of your wet clutch, and sure enough your hips immediately dropped and your legs trembled so he tightened his hold around your middle and pulled you up, pressing your back against his chest.

"I gotcha, c'mon," he murmured, leading you to the opposite side of the shower where a built in bench sat with only a few toiletries on top. You slumped down, resting your cheek against the cool tile wall and wrapping your arms around yourself while he found a fresh washcloth and soaked it under the spray of the shower so he could clean you up.

"You're cold," he remarked when he noticed your goosebumps. Your tired, glazed over eyes found his but you didn't respond, so he scooped you up by your underarms and held you against him under the warm water until you came alive again.

"You did so good," he praised, closing his eyes as the water cascaded down both your bodies.

"'M s'tired," you mumbled, and he nodded before shutting off the water and leading you to the glass door. He grabbed a pristine white robe and wrapped it around your shoulders, cinching the tie tight before getting one for himself and helping you to his bed.

"What'dya need? I got water right here," he told you, pointing to the bottle of cold water on the nightstand. Your nightstand.

"Nothing. Just you," you said sleepily, reaching feeble little arms out underneath the covers for him. He grinned and shed his robe before climbing into bed and curling around you, tugging you close and keeping you warm.

"You got me," he said when your eyelids began to droop and your body melted into his. Only when your breathing slowed and he was fairly confident you were on the brink of sleep did he softly add, "You've always had me," then nuzzled his face against the back of your neck and closed his eyes.

Only a few more days! I know you're just overjoyed to leave paradise and come back home to me

You grinned at your text from Celine, Joel's heavy arm still draped protectively around your waist and snoring softly next to you in the morning light.

I miss you so much!! But I'll miss this place, too. I have sooooo much to tell you

You watched as the three little dots appeared and disappeared a few times before her next text appeared.

Tell me now!! You slept with him, didn't you?

You chewed on your lip and glanced quickly at Joel, confirming he was still asleep before answering.

Maybe

YOU SLUT!

You stifled a giggle but Joel felt the muscles in your stomach jump. You dropped your phone to your chest when he inhaled deeply and stretched a bit under the covers. When you determined he was still fast asleep, you lifted your phone back up to answer, only to find another text from Celine waiting for you.

What does this mean then? Is he paying you more? He fucking better

You knew she didn't mean it, but her text was like a punch in the gut. You didn't want money for sleeping with him. What you really wanted was him, but you had no idea what the past few days meant to him. And you definitely didn't know how to ask him if your relationship would continue after you left the island.

Based on your previous conversations, he didn't seem like a 'relationship guy', so that left two options: him saying no, or him offering to keep you employed as a sugar baby. Both made your stomach churn.

Suddenly, the thought of him paying you for anything made you feel sick. You signed a contract and he was very generous: three months of rent and utilities plus twenty grand, not to mention whatever tip money he had given you that was still buried and unopened in the bottom of your bag. But in that moment, lying next to him in bed surrounded by his warmth and a dull soreness between your legs, you realized you didn't want a single cent. You only wanted one thing and you were terrified he couldn't, or wouldn't, give it to you.

He's paying me way more than he should - I gtg but I'll let you know when I'm on my way home <3

Love you! Enjoy the last piece of paradise for me!

"You're up early," he mumbled with his eyes still closed. His voice was so gravelly and thick with sleep that it had you wilting in a mere moment.

You should have known right then and there that you were in too deep, that you stood a very real chance at getting hurt, but you were too wrapped up in the little bubble you found yourselves in to see it.

"It's actually not that early," you teased, turning on your side to face him, his hands sliding around your waist and then lower to cup your ass. He kept his eyes closed but the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk. Fuck, he looked so good in the morning, all bare chested with tangled, messy hair. You didn't stand a chance. "It's just past nine," you added, tugging your lower lip between your teeth to try and tamper the huge, dopey grin that threatened to stretch across your face.

Joel hummed and cracked an eyelid open to peer at you.

"I got a call at ten."

"Okay," you whispered, eyes drifting over his face, eager to memorize every little detail in the soft morning light. He grinned and opened his eyes all the way, looking at you like he was studying you in the exact same way.

"We have almost an hour," you said suggestively, then giggled when he barked out an incredulous laugh.

"Christ, you're insatiable," he chuckled before rolling onto his back and dragging a palm roughly over his face.

"I never said that! You're assuming something dirty when I was simply pointing out a fact."

"Oh, s'that it?" Joel asked, dropping his hand to his chest so he could look at you with a crooked smile.

"Mhmm," you hummed before resting the side of your head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his middle. He was so warm and it felt so nice to just lay with him, his hand soothingly drifting up and down your back while your finger traced invisible circles over his bare chest. Your thoughts inevitably wandered back to your brief conversation with Celine, wondering how you could bring up the elephant in the room.

Did he really expect this to end in a few short days? Was he just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time? You had nothing to compare it to, you had no idea what a typical sugar daddy relationship was like.

When you really thought about it, there wasn't much you truly knew about Joel. He never told you about his family, friends or exes. In fact, the only personal relationship you did know about was the one he had with Tammy.

Well, it was a start.

You cleared your throat nervously and he could immediately tell something was off.

"Somethin' on your mind?" he asked, offering you an opening.

It was now or never.

"Can I ask you something?" you began timidly. His fingers drifting aimlessly over your skin paused and he took a moment before answering.

"Sure," he replied slowly. Hesitantly.

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his eye, so you focused on tracing a small, old scar on his chest.

"Why did you... what made you... and Tammy..."

You cringed when you heard how stupid you sounded but he just sighed and resumed his soft strokes over your arm.

"Why was I fuckin' her?"

"Yeah," you confirmed sheepishly, bracing yourself for yet another non-answer.

"You ain't gonna like it," he warned, and at that you had to lift your chin to look at him.

"Why?"

His eyes dropped to meet your gaze and you could see him struggling to respond.

"I told you. I ain't a good man," he told you quietly, his tone laced with guilt.

This was it. You were finally going to find out what had been holding Joel back all this time. You swallowed and wordlessly urged him to continue.

"Y'know what the LHW Awards are?"

You shook your head and his eyes drifted to the ceiling.

"Every year, hotels 'round the world get nominated for these awards. There's different categories, it's very competitive and they ain't easy to win," he continued. "Two years ago, I got my first nomination: best hotel in North America."

Joel paused as you tried to piece together how this related to Tammy. Then he added, "Scott was also nominated, same category," and the gears in your head began to turn.

"You didn't win," you said matter-of-factly. Joel shook his head.

"No, I didn't."

"But Scott did."

"Yes."

You took a deep breath, finally connecting the dots.

"So you were pissed..." you began.

"And I fucked his wife."

"Oh," you replied, surprised at his bluntness.

"Told you," he reminded you. "It was stupid, I was angry and knew she always had a thing for me. It was only supposed to be one time, but..." he trailed off, still avoiding your eye. "I don't know. Was a lot easier bein' with someone when it was convenient, someone who had their all their cards on the table and I didn't have to worry 'bout takin' advantage of me for my money. Not when she had so much to lose."

"Oh," you said again, unable to come up with anything else to say. And you tried, you really did, not to draw a comparison between your relationship with Joel and his relationship with Tammy, but it was hard not to notice the similarities. A relationship of convenience, a contract in place to protect his wealth... but what you had together was different. Right? There was no possible way he cared for Tammy as affectionately the way he did with you.

"What're you thinkin'?" he asked, and you swore he sounded a little nervous.

"Did... did you love her?"

"No," he said immediately, "never been in love, remember?"

"Right," you whispered, vaguely remembering that day in the pool. Ain't sure it's in the cards for me. You rubbed your eyes and slipped out of his hold, sitting up in bed with the sheet loosely covering your upper body. "Did she love you?"

Joel hesitated and you tore your gaze away from your tangled fingers to look at his shame filled face.

"Maybe. She never said but I had a feelin'."

You nodded and let your eyes drift towards the glass doors facing the ocean, watching as small waves crashed on the shore.

"Is that why you broke things off?" you asked bravely, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

Feeling bad for Tammy was definitely not something you expected to feel, but now having learned more about her relationship with Joel, her actions began to make a little more sense. She was hurt.

"I broke it off 'cause I was tryin' to protect her," Joel explained when he saw the look on your face. "I knew I couldn't give her what she wanted and I didn't wanna lead her on."

"Yeah, I get it," you told him. You felt uneasy but you pushed it away, vowing to deal with it another time. The important thing was Joel opened up to you. He told you something he very clearly didn't plan on sharing, something that he carried with great guilt and shame. Maybe now that he got it off his chest, he would stop thinking he was such a bad man and let you in. You reached for his hand and he looked up at you in surprise.

"I understand," you told him, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

"You think any less of me now?" he asked sarcastically with a smirk, but you could see the truth behind his eyes. He tried to pass it off as a joke, but he needed to hear you say it.

"No," you whispered, leaning down to press a tender kiss against his lips. He hummed under his breath and stole one more kiss before you straightened back up. "Thank you for being honest with me."

He grinned and stared down at your fingers still interlaced with his, wondering if this time might actually be different.

Despite the lingering apprehension that clung to you after Joel's confession, the last few days spent on the island were nothing short of perfect. So much so that it had you foolishly forgetting your arrangement together.

Joel did have to work during the days, but he found pockets of time between meetings to find you by the pool if you weren't out spending time with Zoe. And it was hardly your fault, really, for allowing yourself to lean into those fantasies when Joel's hands or lips always found your skin whenever he was around.

In the evenings, he took you to restaurants. Now that Glenn's decision was made, Joel had plenty of time for you. He even took you to a restaurant that had fire dancers perform on the beach, remembering you had mentioned wanting to see them days prior.

And once dinner was over, he always took you back to his bed. The only reason you stepped foot into your old room was to grab some clothes or a book. Some nights he fucked you, some nights he just held you close while you tried not to think about your trip coming to an end. If it weighed heavily on Joel's mind, he didn't show it. He remained laser focused on his goal right up until the end.

"What are you so nervous for?" you asked him as you leaned over one of the two sinks in his bathroom to apply your makeup. It was the night Glenn planned on announcing Joel as his pick, and his nerves were showing. His fidgeting in the mirror over the second sink was distracting. "He told you the land is yours."

"Yeah but until I got a contract, it ain't real," he told you, grumbling when he realized the buttons on his linen shirt were mismatched and he had to start over.

You put the last of your makeup into your bag and turned to him with a sigh, slapping his hands away so you could redo his buttons for him.

"You and your contracts," you teased, gaze focused on his shirt so you didn't have to look him in the eye when you made the first real reference to your arrangement in over a week.

Either Joel wasn't thinking about it the way you were or it went right over his head because he just tugged you closer with a seductive smile and murmured, "Can y'blame me? You woulda left the first week if I didn't have you sign that piece of paper."

Okay, so maybe you needed to leave stronger hints.

"How do you know?" you countered, still slowly buttoning his shirt.

Joel chuckled. "You didn't like me all that much when we got here."

You grinned and shrugged before lightly replying, "That's not true. I liked you," then nervously cleared your throat before adding, "Maybe not as much as I do now, but I liked you."

"Yeah? Y'liked me enough to stay here a whole month without me promisin' you twenty grand?" he asked playfully, still smirking to himself in the mirror as he fixed a few stray pieces of hair and you finished your work on his buttons.

"Yes."

When he heard the serious tone in your voice, his hands fell to his sides and his eyes dropped to meet yours, the smile slowly fading from his face when he confirmed you weren't joking.

You held your breath as the implication of what you said settled in. You could see him struggling with what to say and you fought the urge to fill the silence with your own nervous babbling. Instead, you watched him scan your face for any sign of insincerity, only to find none.

"Darlin'-"

Your heart plummeted when you both heard his phone chirp loudly on the white quartz countertop, ending the moment when he reached for it to announce your car was waiting downstairs.

But just when you thought you lost your chance and you began to gather a few things to shove into your purse, Joel stopped you with a gentle pinch to your chin.

"We'll talk 'bout this later, okay?"

You gave him a little smile and nodded before he released you to tuck in his shirt, walking out of the bathroom.

It wasn't a surprise that it was all you were thinking about the entire evening. You made sure to only have one drink, just enough to calm your nerves but keep your mind clear.

"Your lip looks really good. You can hardly tell anything happened," Zoe said quietly from the chair next to you at the long dinner table set up on the patio. Glenn and Mary had decided to host dinner at their house for everyone's last night on the island and it was the perfect night to be outside, the weather was gorgeous.

"Thanks. I got pretty creative with makeup," you joked, looking away from the empty chair at the other end of the table that no doubt was meant for Brooks, who had not shown up for dinner. You couldn't be sure if it was by choice or if he was still bedridden from whatever Joel did to him, but either way you were relieved not to have to face him again.

"I still have so much to pack," Zoe groaned, pushing around some scallops on her plate. "I'm gonna be up all night. What about you?"

"Yeah, same," you admitted, "I haven't even started yet."

"Guess that's the beauty of flying private... we can afford to be a little late!" she giggled, and you laughed with her, grateful for the brief distraction.

After dinner was cleared and dessert was about to be served, Glenn stood with a warm smile and tapped the side of his wine glass with a spoon, pulling everyone's attention within seconds.

"Oh, shit, here we go," Zoe muttered on your right side while Joel's hand found yours on the left, his thumb nervously fiddling with your ring.

"Mary and I wanted to thank each and every one of you for spending the last month on our little island," Glenn began, glancing lovingly down at his wife. "It's been wonderful getting to know all of you better, and we've loved sharing this slice of paradise with you."

His gaze drifted around the table, looking everyone in the eye before taking a deep breath.

"But this place is more than just paradise to us. This place is home. We love it here, we love the people and the culture and it's always been our top priority to make sure anybody who buys a plot of land here is the right fit." Glenn linked his fingers together to emphasize his point before continuing.

"We think of the locals here as our family, and it's no secret how important family is to us. So, when we made our decision on who should get this last piece of land, me and Mary took into consideration who would represent these core values of family and community. And I'll tell you all, it was not an easy decision," Glenn said with a soft laugh. "You all are wonderful people and I know any one of you would do wonderful things with this land, but unfortunately we can't fit five resorts into that plot."

A ripple of nervous laughter swept through the group. Joel squeezed your hand, his eyes still glued to Glenn standing at the head of the table. Then Glenn's gaze landed on Joel and he smiled while raising his glass.

"Joel... spot's all yours, buddy."

The table erupted into polite applause and Joel instantly turned to cup your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, then stood. He rounded the table to shake Glenn's hand and give Mary a hug while Zoe excitedly pinched your side.

"You better invite me to your wedding, I'm already dying for an excuse to come back here."

"Huh?" you asked, sounded delirious with all the commotion. By that point, everyone was standing to congratulate Joel and exchange polite words with Glenn and Mary, thanking them for their consideration and hospitality.

"Didn't you say you'd get married at the new hotel?" Zoe asked, tilting your head to the side. Then you remembered what you had said on the yacht and jokingly knocked the heel of your hand against your head.

"Yeah, duh. Of course you'll be invited, sorry, I think I forgot for a second," you laughed. Then you noticed Tammy down the table and you froze. She and Lynne were clearly pissed off, whispering angrily to one another with their faces all flushed and their perfectly manicured nails pointing in your direction and you frowned.

"What the hell's their problem?"

Zoe swiveled around then shrugged before turning back to you.

"Probably jealous Joel won."

Then Mary came bustling over to give you a hug, pulling your attention away from the other women and telling you she was so excited to spend more time together before lowering her voice and tearfully apologizing for her son's behavior.

"We sent him over to a facility this morning," she told you, her fingers wrapping around your wrists. You could see the despair in her eye and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. At the end of the day, she was a mother worried for her son and for that, you couldn't fault her.

"I really hope he gets the help he needs," you told her sincerely.

"He went willingly. It took some convincing, but he came around and agreed he needed to get some help. I don't know where we went wrong..." she began, but you quickly shook your head.

"Oh, it's not your fault," you told her. "Everyone makes their own decisions and you just do the best you can to support the ones you love."

Mary smiled shakily at you and blinked back her tears.

"You'll make a wonderful mother one day, dear," she said. You laughed nervously and shook your head.

"Maybe in a few years," you told her.

One of the caterers gently tapped Mary's elbow, diverting her attention from you with an apologetic smile. You turned back to Zoe and glanced down at her empty glass.

What the hell. Two drinks wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, you were celebrating.

"Want to pop inside real quick and raid the bar?" you asked her with a wink. She giggled and nodded before trotting after you.

"I know they have caterers, but I always thought I'd make a good bartender," you joked, sliding behind the wet bar attached to their dining room. "What can I get you, Miss?" you asked, giving yourself a fake accent as you pretended to polish an already spotless glass. Zoe laughed and hopped up onto a barstool.

"How about a mojito?"

Your hands paused on the glass and you narrowed your eyes at her, knowing full well she was messing with you and not expecting you to muddle mint and lime.

"Try again."

She tipped her head back and laughed louder this time, covering up the sharp rap of expensive high heels echoing off the marble floors, heading your way.

"Umm... do you have any white wine?"

You glanced down at the mini fridge and grinned.

"That I can do."

You pulled out a bottle and studied the label, having no idea if it was expensive or not but it was already opened so you figured it was fair game. Right when you popped the cork, Lynne and Tammy rounded the corner looking like they were on a mission.

"You!"

You and Zoe exchanged confused looks before turning back to the two women.

"Me?" you asked, pointing at your chest even though it was fairly obvious.

"Yes," Tammy hissed, coming closer to lean over the bar. Zoe scowled when Lynne squeezed her way in, encroaching on her personal space in the process.

"This is bullshit," Tammy snapped. "They only picked Joel because of Brooks and what he did. You probably encouraged it, didn't you? Tried to make something happen so Glenn would feel guilty and give Joel the land!"

You were so shocked, you lost your voice for a moment, only remembering to look at Zoe in disbelief.

"How the hell did you know about that?" Zoe argued, a good question that hadn't even occurred to you yet.

"Oh, please," Lynne said, waving her off as if she were an annoying fly. "We were right there in the restaurant, remember? The wait staff heard what happened and told us before you had even gotten into the car."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" you exclaimed, your brain finally catching up. "I certainly didn't ask for him to shove my face into the sink, what kind of fucked up question is that?"

Tammy snorted and crossed her arms. "I wouldn't put it past you. I wouldn't put it past either of you."

"Excuse me?" Zoe asked, standing up.

"Not you," Tammy said with a roll of her eyes. "Her and Joel."

You frowned, confused, until you remembered how Joel ending things with her and then it started to make sense.

"Listen," you said calmly, "I know you might still need some closure or something-"

"W-what?" Tammy sputtered, anxiously looking between you and the other women. It was clear she didn't think they knew, and maybe Lynne didn't, so you changed course.

"We can talk about what happened in private, if you prefer-"

"I have nothing to say to you," she spat. "Both of you are fucked in the head, you know that? Misleading poor Glenn like this, pretending like Joel is this sweet, caring family man. You know damn well if I tell Glenn the truth about Joel's daughter and brother, he never would get that land."

Tammy kept talking but all you could hear was a high pitched ringing in your ears. Brother? Daughter? Joel has a fucking daughter? Not once did Joel ever allude anything about his family when he was with you, but somehow Tammy knew?

"Shut the hell up!" you finally yelled. Surprisingly, Tammy's mouth clamped shut. "You think you're any better? Pretending to have this perfect marriage with your college sweetheart when two weeks ago you were trying to get my fiancé to fuck you in the bathroom of an art gallery?"

Lynne gasped and Zoe cackled into the palm of her hand while Tammy remained frozen.

"You could run out there right now and tell Glenn whatever it is you think you know, but if you do that, I'll be sure to tell Scott everything I know," you seethed, gripping the edge of the bar so tightly your fingers were beginning to hurt. "Would it be worth it? Hm? Because if Joel doesn't get that land, guess what? He'll be just fine. But you won't," you said, voice dropping to a threatening level. "Your marriage would be over. You'd have fucking nothing. So why don't you think real hard about what you want to say next."

Tammy's mouth opened and closed, her eyes darting around the room anxiously. It was clear you had her cornered. She finally scoffed and fixed a piece of hair before backing away from the bar.

"You're a bitch," she said lowly before turning on her heel to leave.

"Better than being a washed up old hag," Zoe called after her as Lynne hurriedly joined her side, disappearing down the hallway. Zoe turned back to you and burst out laughing.

"Maybe we need a couple shots instead," she said, shaking her head in shock. "I didn't know Joel had a daughter. How old is she?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Can we talk about it another time?" you asked weakly, leaning against the bar and hanging your head between your shoulders. It felt like you had just went twelve rounds and you were exhausted. Why wouldn't Joel tell you he had a daughter? Or a brother? And what the hell happened?

"Of course, yeah," Zoe said, quickly standing up to rub your back. "Want me to go get Joel?"

"Uh, no, that's okay," you said, rubbing your temples aggressively. "I think I'm getting a migraine, I'll find Joel myself so we can leave."

"God, I'm sorry. What a couple of bitches," Zoe said, wrapping an arm around you so she could lead you back outside. "You kicked ass, though. I'm proud of you, girl."

You laughed weakly as you both stepped through the glass doors, scanning the crowd of guests. "Thanks. And thanks for jumping in, too."

"No problem. Been waiting for my chance to knock that one down a peg," she said, giving you a kiss on your cheek when Joel spotted you and began to make his way over. "Hope you can at least celebrate," she added with a wink before disappearing to find Zachary.

"Hey," Joel said breathlessly with a huge smile. "Everythin' alright? Where'd you go?"

"Uh, actually I'm getting a bad headache," you told him, wincing when your fingertips pressed against your temple.

"Shit, alright, lemme say good night and we can go."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and gave you a quick kiss, cursing your body for still having a reaction to him when you knew you should be mad.

After you had each said your good byes, which were mercifully quick, Joel led you to the car with one hand placed lightly on your lower back and the other clutching his phone.

"I gotta make a quick call," he told you once you were settled in and on your way back to the hotel. You nodded and gazed out the window while Joel spoke to someone, presumably his lawyer, about drawing up a contract for the land. All the while, his free hand held yours, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your knuckles while he spoke, the excitement in his voice palpable.

You decided by the time you got back to the hotel, you would give him one chance to come clean. You swore to yourself you wouldn't hold it against him, that you wouldn't care how or why Tammy would know something so personal about him, just as long as he told you the truth.

He took you to his bedroom, like usual, and brought you water with some extra strength Tylenol. You stared at the two little pills sitting on your nightstand while he washed up in the bathroom. It was undeniable how happy he made you now, and with that came a great risk of getting hurt if he wasn't honest with you.

"Need anythin' else? I can call the front desk for whatever you want," Joel said when he exited the bathroom. You shook your head and slipped underneath the covers, blankly staring at the ceiling while he took off his watch and plugged in his phone. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest as you mentally psyched yourself up to ask him the question that had been on your mind for the past hour.

"Joel?"

His hand, which hovered over the switch on his lamp, pulled back when he turned to face you.

"Yeah?"

"When you told me you thought you weren't a good man," you began, fingers twisting the sheets nervously, "did you say that because of what you told me about you and Tammy, or is there... anything else?"

He paused and you closed your eyes, waiting for his answer.

Please. Please don't lie.

"No, that was it."

Tears immediately burned behind your eyes, like they were just lying in wait, knowing he would disappoint you.

"Are you sure?" you asked quietly. He cleared his throat and turned off his light before sliding between the sheets.

"Yep."

You nodded in the darkness and turned onto your side, away from him.

"Okay."

Meaning of Holi Festival Colors

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caramelloss · 14 days ago

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"you are my witch"

lilia calderu x reader • pure smut • 3.2k w/c

summary: you've been friends with lilia calderu for years. drunken from the poison of wine, you confess your love for the woman. although reluctant to admit her feelings, because she harbors a secret you don't know, you learn that lilia feels the same way. years of yearning come to an end, and you find yourself falling into your desires, unable to control what has been kept away for so long.

taglist: @setsuna1415 @honeypiperpizza123 @valarmorghuli @allseingeye @im-a-carnivorous-plant @worstendingever @ramblininsomnia @wandamaximoff-simp @mrsines @onlyv4use @kenzie-floops @screamsin-gay @numenamortenia @valkyrierain @babythere @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @astrophilliaxx @giona45-5 @evilregal2002 @crescendoofstars @yourbasicqueerie @primalnight @darkangelchronicles @sapphic-girlss @thegoddamnfeels @doctormaviatorres @i-hate-most-insects @brisgayshit97 @iheartmilfzzsposts @redrouge7e7as @novavala @finnza @wandringlightsaber @romanoffsho @kingpreciouswrld @emilyprentitss @elobv10 @wandasreallover @kaypastore38 @thegayassbit-ch @marinalunaestrella @gryffindor-forlife @lorrainemylove @anais-casablanca @girlwithissuesworld @ofgoldandbraid @justgaygirlthings @beachhausu @deathly777 @confuseuniverse @eepyvampy @whyilovewomen @r-3-becca @roksana6448 @bugcolector @etw12 @heartsfromelle @zyguard118 @thelesbianapollokid4 @opossum-in-disguise @snoopyaah @amberwhale @marisacoulterswife @ionlylikefictionalpeople @derry-n @evie-101 @ganyulover123

author's note: so first i'd like to just THANK all of you for blowing up my post asking for who'd like to be tagged, because the taglist isn't even done, i can't fit them all in the blog. also, i tagged you if you liked or reblogged the tag ask post, because i bolded i would tag those who liked or reblogged. second; i'm sorry this isn't a longer fic. it was originally planned to be, but i don't want to use my idea i came up with in a one chapter fic, i'd like it to be used in a longer more meaningful one. i really hope you enjoy this. if you have any positive, negative, or general feedback, please let me know! i want to become the best author i can be for you guys. also, i'd love to receive any asks for fanfiction or one shots! i'm currently focused on my big multi character x reader fic, but im 100% open to and willing to write for your requests.

content includes: fingering, oral stimulation, biting, praise, hair pulling, pet name usage

you noticed the difference in her eyes like it was bolded in bright red ink. her smile fell, like an angel to descend from heaven. 'this is it' you thought, 'she’ll hate me.' you turned away in shame, your heart dropped. words flooded out, stupid, careless words. "i love you, lilia."

you couldn't bear to look, you feared the disagreement would show on her face. your body tenses, and you scrunch the bridge of your nose with your fingers. you expect her to tell you to get out, or leave.. but you hear nothing.

but you feel, oh, you feel.

you feel her behind you, closer than when you had muttered those stupid, damning words. her fingers gently traced your neck, and you closed your eyes, the yearning in your soul up to its brink of expression. each breath you take is shaky, is heavy. you tilt your head aside, desperate to feel her warmth on your skin forever.

you open your eyes when you feel her breath on your neck. she must've noticed your body's reaction, because she paused, and remained still. lilia traces her fingers down your body, to your hips. she stops here, her lips close to your ears, as her body presses into your back.

you lean into her, your head slightly leaning back, at the pure and utter pleasure you feel being so close to her. her lips part, and with such composure, yet so little solidity, she delivers a line that would come to send shivers down your spine. "i have loved you since i saw you the first time, long ago. i am consumed and rattled by you at every waking second.." her hands pull you in, and you hum at the gesture. your eyes are closed, not because you hate this, or don't want to be there, but because the way you long for her in this moment now is too painful for you to bear. a lump forms in your throat when you feel her wet cheek graze your neck. she was in tears, and you needed to console her; but how? how should you console her now? you did not have much time to think. her lips, warm, soft, and gentle, were on your neck. the kiss she blessed your skin with felt like one that existed prior to the world, and forever past the present. it was torture, it was devastation, when she pulled away. it hurt, it was brutal.. so brutal, your lips parted, and you gasped quietly. your hand reached back for her head, and you enveloped your fingers in the curly, silver locks of her hair. you held her head close to yours, as her thumbs rubbed gently upon your hips. her voice broke as she completed her confession, and your heart broke with it; you'd do anything to protect her, to keep her from harm. "i'm a witch, y/n.. how could you ever love a witch?"

your eyes opened, and you stopped breathing, for just a moment. you were sure you'd heard wrong. with a furrowed brow, and a worrisome expression, you broke away from her touch, from her hold. you turned to her, and your head tilted to the side, as tears began to form in your waterline. the sight of her, so weak, so doubtful of herself, so ashamed.. your heart shattered like a broken mirror.

her face was lined with streaks of wet. she had cried for this, she suffered for it. she couldn't even look at you, her eyes were avert.

your hands raced to cup her cheeks, and you gently wipe away her tears. her lips part, in astonishment, followed by her eyes meeting your gaze. finally, you saw those beautiful eyes again. your heart skipped a thousand beats at the sight of those irises. you smile, and your face softens. "lilia.." you whisper, your forehead pressed against hers now, "i've loved you since the sun rose opposite the moon. i've chased you in all of my wildest dreams. i've loved you in every moment and i would not stop because of what you are or are not." at your notation, her lips fold into a smile. she grabs your wrists softly, holding them. once more you spoke, "you are my witch, my little piece of divinity. you are mine, and my heart is yours." you watch as her eyes move from your eyes to your lips, and you wish for nothing but her to kiss you.

after all these years, of being her "friend", you have never wanted anything more than for her to kiss you. it's like an insatiable hunger you cannot destroy.

lilia bites her lip, and she grabs your chin with her pointer finger and her thumb. you start to breath heavy, and your heart begins to race. she brings your face to hers, so close that your lips graze against one another’s. you ache for her, you long for her. you need to taste her, to merge your body, your soul, your heart, with hers. you need her to kiss you.

and she does. her lips mesh with yours in perfect harmony, like the melody of heaven’s sea. your mind is adrift, clouded. you cannot form a thought, you do not desire to form a thought. her unaccompanied hand caresses the small of your back, and you pull her closer with the hands you hold on her face.

she slips her tongue along your bottom lip, and you moan softly into the kiss. her grip on your chin releases, and she holds your jaw instead. she guides you through the long, heart-felt kisses. her lips control your body, your mind.

warmth builds between your thighs, and your head is still covered by nothing but a blanket of emptiness. lilia is the first to pull away, her lack of oxygen in her lungs being the culprit. you curse the living necessity of air.

you yourself breathe heavy, panting almost. lilia’s lipstick is smudged, and you smirk at the notion that you've just kissed this marvel of a woman. she notices your cocky smile, and a single eyebrow lifts. she now wore a smirk herself.

“you're looking at me like you've just seen me naked, y/n.” you chuckle when she says this. “while i wouldn't be opposed to that, i'm just a little satisfied with the fact that in the midst of kissing me, you forgot about your lipstick.”

her smirk faded and her lips parted again, she pop looked offended, but you could tell it was just her beautiful sense of sarcasm.

“fix it for me?” she asked this with a lower tone and a wink, and you felt your core throb at the sound of her voice. she wanted you to kiss her again.

you ran your tongue across your bottom lip, and you couldn't help your smile. her hands guided your face close, and you pushed a curl behind her ear. she grew desperate, unable to wait. her lips caught yours, and you shut your eyes at the contact. in your head you pictured her eyes, beautiful and brown, like the rock embedded and shaded on the side of a mountain. your grip on her hair tightened as she pushed you back softly, making sure not to break the kiss. her lips were soft, so soft it felt like the comfort a pillow brings in the hour of sleep. you moan as your lower back makes contact with her counter, and your head leans back, which breaks the embrace.

the wetness between your thighs grows, and you figure your underwear must be utterly ruined. lilia's fingers stroked your hair, and she shook her head slightly, a whisper following shortly. "let me taste you.. every inch of you.." you bite your lip, and hold her gaze, nodding hesitantly; even though you don't feel hesitant on your answer at all. her smirk returns, and her hands descend, down from your hair to your neck. she drags them further down, past your shoulders. she stops at where the unbuttoned cardigan opens, pushing the material off of your arms and body. her warmth intoxicates you when her skin brushes against yours. she plants hot kisses on your upper arms, which are exposed because of the camisole top you wore.

her hands found the straps to your shirt, and she pulled them down slowly, kissing the empty place they used to cover. you tense, and your eyes shut as your lips purse together while you try to conceal the soft hum of pleasure you make.

lilia's fingers pull away the top, leaving you completely naked and exposed from your waist up. she smiles at the sight, her hands cupping your breasts. you feel the slick between your legs, it seems the inner part of your thighs had gotten soaked by extension.

her thumbs grazed over your nipples, and the sensation was enough to drive you wild. you pulled her head into the curve of your neck, your lips parted as soft moans escaped. she chuckles and her lips start to kiss your neck.

your knees go weak, simply from the ecstasy her lips brings you. her thumbs lose the feel of your sensitive buds, and she begins to creep down your throat. she leaves sloppy kisses down your collarbone, and down to your nipples. her eyes close as she takes one into her mouth, suckling on the sweet spot. your eyes fall back, and you inhale, biting down onto your lip to stop yourself from being loud. her fingers play with your lone nipple, and you feel as though you will not be able to take much more of this before becoming pathetic for her.

the witch releases your areola from her mouth and takes in the other, her tongue lapping around the bundle of nerves. her hands trace the curves of your body. they pause when she's reached your hips, and she digs her nails into your skin. the pain blends with the pleasure beautifully, and it's as if they are interchangeable.

you breathe heavily, your stomach twitching when she starts to drag her lips down your stomach. your pussy was so wet that she could smell the scent of arousal from your waistline. her fingers pulled up the black skirt you wore, and it revealed your soaked nude panties. she chuckled, looking up at you with eyes that were darkened and overwhelmed with lust. she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, which made you roll your eyes.

“you're so wet, darling. i could just devour you.” you gently pull her hair, forcing her head back a little. she smirks, and you pout. “please, i need you” you say, pleading for her tongue, for her fingers, for her to be the one to shape you into a mess of a woman.

she winks, bringing her mouth to your inner thigh. she leaves kisses along your skin, and it seems as though she’s teasing you. her eyes stay locked onto yours with each touch of her lips, she wants to see your face as she tortures you.

your hands release her hair, and grab onto the counter behind you, your nails scratch the surface with each new touch. her eyes look so dark, and it turns you on even more.

but your view of them is gone as she bites into your other thigh. her teeth are sharp, and your jaw drops, you whimper. her teeth release, and she kisses the bite mark. you open your eyes to see it, to see the mark she had left. it was dark red, and your expression changed, you felt your core throb uncontrollably, and you grabbed her head by her hair, guiding her to your cunt. your eyes pleaded with her.

lilia opened her mouth and licked the wet slick on your panties, all while looking you dead in the eyes. the touch was faint, but it was all your body needed to jerk up. it was so cruel, the way she left you needy and desperate for her. you couldn't think beyond her tongue on your clit, or her fingers buried in your warm folds.

she bit the material of your under garment, pulling it slowly down your legs. her eyes were stolen away by the sight of you completely naked and in front of her, soaked, ruined. you were such a slut for her. you wonder if she would tease you about how soiled you got for her later down the line.

the witch sighed, and her lips kissed the very inside of your thighs, right beside where you writhed for her. you thought you might faint.

using your hand, you rubbed her cheek, shaking your head at the sight of her, down on her knees, ready to please you.

she turned her face, kissing your gentle fingers. you smiled, and you took a deep breath as she brought her face as close as possible to your core. her eyes were focused on your face, you could tell she wanted to watch your face as she ate you out. so typical of her.

her face buried between your legs, her tongue circling your clit. your hands shot behind you to the counter once more, desperate to hold yourself up. your eyes closed, and your back arched. the moan that echoed through the room was inevitable. she took her time, finding the nerves that were more sensitive and paying more attention to them. you thought she must've found you stupid to be so wet and needy for her.

her tongue sped up, and she took your clit into her mouth, suckling the bud. you couldn't control the way your hips bucked, or the way your knees fell wobbly and weak. her hands grabbed your hips to stabilize her, and she pulled her mouth away in a flash.

you were worrisome, you thought maybe you'd messed up, or maybe she'd realized she didn't want you like this. it was almost heartbreaking to feel her pull away.

she had never stopped looking at you, though. you of course couldn't tell because your eyes had closed before out of the extremity of what you were feeling.

she looked serious, determined, but her eyes were still as dark as before. you blush at the sight of her face covered in your taste, your slick. her mouth opened, and you heard every word with such a heavy impact. “do not close your eyes again. i want to see your eyes, your face, at every moment. do you understand?”

your heart starts to race again, there was just something so inexplicable about the way her words made you feel. you nod your head, scared that if you spoke your words would be jumbled. she didn't accept it though, her voice changed, from demanding to mischievous. “you understand..? what do you understand, dear? how does it make you feel..? tell me how i make you feel.”

you bite your lip, looking up at the ceiling. maybe you were throwing up a prayer that you wouldn't mess up, or maybe you were just trying to prepare yourself for what she wanted from you. her right hand slipped from your hip, and you didn't notice, so fixated on her request. you went to start speaking, but as you did, you felt her fingers inside of you.

your head leaned back, and you closed your eyes. a hushed “fuck!”, was followed by a loud humming. she smirked, “what did i say about closing your eyes, baby?”

you forced them open, forced them to lock their gaze down onto her own. you wanted to make her happy. you needed to please her just as badly as you needed her to make you cum.

“i'm sorry, darling—” as you began again, her fingers started to pump inside of your pussy, and your mouth lay agape. she didn't stop, even as you took a moment to continue, and you took a deep breath.

“you want me to look— oh, fuck.. god.” it was like she went faster with each word you spoke. you took note of her devilish grin, thinking that you'd someday get your revenge. “you want me to look at you, you want to see me when— shit!” your body flinches as she curls her digits inside you, her speed still gradually increasing. “come on, princess, you're doing so good” she whispered this against your clit, right before sucking it into her mouth again.

you bit your lip and your hands pulled her by the hair, just giving you something to hold onto. “when i cum for you, when i'm just a puddle for you.. you want to see me when i take your fingers!”

the words came out shaky, spaced between your moans and whimpers. her fingers started to go as fast as they could, and lilia lapped her tongue around your wet clit, stimulating every single part of your cunt. she was still looking at you. you held her gaze as you started to tremble, your body shaking as it came to the brink of an orgasm.

you finished your thought, giving her what she asked of you. “it makes me feel like abandoning everything for you, to have you like this, every second, every moment.”

her eyes closed, and you watched her remain between your thighs. your body hit a climax, and your hips bucked up, your back arching. you yelled for her, her name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you bit your lip to muffle any further sounds as she fucked you through your orgasm.

when you had came, your white fluid casing over her fingers, she pulled her mouth away from your clitoris.

you, with your head still fuzzy, had managed to pull her back up to you by her hair. her lips were so wet because of you. you immediately pull her in to kiss you, tasting yourself on her tongue and lips. she pulled away, breaking the contact. her teeth captured your bottom lip and you sighed when she pulled it back.

lilia’s lips started kissing your neck, and she brought them to your ear, whispering hushedly, “clean your pretty little mess, my love.”

you whimper, and you open your lips, as she slips her two cum-covered fingers inside of your mouth. you suck off your fluid, and the growing wetness between your legs returns.

the older witch laughs, kissing your neck again. her lips find yours once more, and she kisses you like there is no other action in this world. her tongue invades your mouth, as she tastes the sweetness that remains.

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peachysunrize · 3 months ago

Text

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 4.9k+

Warnings: fluff & Angst! English isn’t my first language<3

A/n: hello beauties!! Here’s the 2nd chap of our summer romance!!! A bit of a build up and messy Aemy because why not? The next chapters will be longer but this one no and I’m so sorry I was dealing with a writer’s block this week but I managed to get this one out!!! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated<3

Taglist: if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please fill this form with your username!!

Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 2: under the Weirwood tree

“Aemond!”

Aegon bangs on the library door like a fucking toddler, making Aemond sigh and groan as he continues to slam his fist on the wooden door.

“What?” He says with a jab in his tone, his fingers toying with the edge of the page he was reading a few seconds ago, “Open the fucking door already, or you’ll break it down, idiot.”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to your older brother,” Aegon kisses his teeth as he pushes the door open, an unbelievably large smile on his face. He strides towards Aemond’s desk with a mug of black coffee in his hand, walking with a skip in his steps, “especially now that you will spend your summer with us! How lovely—“

“Shut up already and give me my coffee,” Aemond grumbles, reaching for the mug but Aegon pulls it back, keeping it out of his reach.

“Tsk, tsk, absolutely not!” Aegon says, faking a frown as he looks at his younger brother, “You’re being so rude for someone who wears glasses with one prosthetic eye—“

“For fuck sake,” Aemond groans, grabbing the glasses before he takes them off, pinching the bridge of his nose, “why must you always be so insufferable?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Aegon shrugs, plopping down on the seat in front of Aemond’s desk, “it’s my responsibility to make sure you are entertained and not bored to death with these—“ he scrunches his face as he fiddles with his younger brother’s book, “what the fuck is this? Are you reading a history book in High Valyrian? You’re insane.”

“When was the last time you read a book?” Aemond looks at his older brother with a smug expression, “At least between the two of us someone is using his brain.”

“No wonder Alys left you—“

They both freeze, not a single sound can be heard in the room as Aegon very very slowly looks at Aemond, gulping when he sees his younger brother’s good eye glaring daggers at him.

“Shit—I’m, fucking shit, I’m so so sorry—“ he tries to get up and hug Aemond but all he receives is being pushed back on his seat with a defeated sigh from the younger Targaryen.

“Don’t talk for a moment, I want to enjoy my coffee in silence,” Aemond shakes his head before he brings the hot mug to his lips, taking a gentle sip from it, “did you make this?” He asks, his good eye wide and surprised as he looks at Aegon.

“No, why?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispers as he takes a huge gulp from the coffee, humming as the hot steaming liquid hits his tongue, “you could never make a cup of coffee like this.”

“You have Hel’s bestie to thank for that,” Aegon shrugs, “besides, I hate coffee, can never understand how you drink this stuff.”

“Of course, only horrible cocktails can keep you on your toes,” Aemond scoffs, finishing his coffee with a hum of pleasure, fighting back a smile when he hears you have made his coffee, “how did she know how I like my coffee?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Aegon leans back, his eyes never leaving Aemond, “how are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” Aemond asks, confused and surprised by his brother’s question.

Their relationship is… quite complicated. They love each other, but at the same time, they want to strangle and knock the breath out of the other’s lungs. They wish to be able to have civil conversations, but in Aemond’s head, Aegon always says something that makes him see red.

“We haven’t talked much ever since… you know,” Aegon sighs, running a hand through his tangled hair, “I understand though, not that I understand it as if I have experienced it or ever for that, I’ll probably never do because I mean who would want to leave someone like me—“

“I get it,” Aemond raises his hand to stop his brother, “you try to be sympathetic, I appreciate that, but you suck at it,” he says, standing up to put the book back in its place, waking Vhagar up with a few head scratches before he makes his way toward the door, Aegon following behind.

“Yeah, not my thing,” Aegon shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts, walking side by side with his brother, entering the buzzing kitchen together, “well, good morning ladies and you kid!” Daeron fakes a cry when Aegon pats his back roughly, making him choke on his tea.

“Leave him alone,” Hel announces, walking towards the kitchen island with two big plates filled with waffles and ice cream, “he’s had a rough night.”

“Why?” Aemond asks before spotting you behind Helaena, walking with a plate of fresh fruits, “hi.”

“Good morning, Lil nerd! How did you sleep last night?” You ask him, giving him a quick hug, sitting on your chair next to him, “Hopefully not stuck in the library like the past week?”

“No,” chuckles, taking his seat, “I actually went to bed, I had to put away a few things Alys sent back from the house.”

“Oh, did she contact you?” You ask hesitantly, plopping a small grape into your mouth as Helaena cuts the waffles for everyone, “you don’t have to answer, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” he shakes his head, reaching to take an apple from your plate, “she didn’t contact me, well, she kind of did but it was just a note in the boxes she sent.”

“She’s such a bitch.”

“Helaena!” You laugh out loud, throwing your head back when Aegon says her name in shock — one thing Hel’s family doesn’t know about her is how fiercely protective she is of her loved ones, even if it’s mostly in secret.

“Sister—“

“Sorry, sorry!” She sits down with a soft laugh, “she gets on my nerves, you know? I can’t control it.”

“We know, babe,” you pass her the fruit plate, bringing a bite of waffle to your mouth after you say, “Don’t think about it anymore, we’re trying to get your brother to move on!”

“Yeah!” Aegon tries to join the conversation but soon gets distracted, “damn girl, how can you eat a whole ass plate of berries and grapes this early in the morning?”

“It’s near noon, dumbass,” Daeron scoffs, leaving the kitchen with a hot cup of tea.

“She loves to have fruit for breakfast, especially sweet oranges and tangerines!” Helaena exclaims.

“Not sure when it started but it’s now a part of my morning routine,” you shrug, handing Aemond a few strawberries to put on his waffles, “and what about you? How do you manage to have Gin Tonic with your breakfast?”

“I haven’t had any since I arrived here!” He whines, pouting as he stands up and steals a few grapes from your hand, “fuck off you know my cocktails are the best.”

“I’m not boosting your ego until you give me a good Sex on the beach.”

“Atta girl!” He high-fives you before making his way towards the refrigerator to grab a snack for himself even though he’s had breakfast with you.

“Morning, darlings,” Alicent walks in, her auburn curls moving with each step as she stands between you and Aemond, reaching to pull Aemond in for a half hug with a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Morning, Mum,” he replies, rubbing her forearm with one hand, giving her a rare smile he only gives her and Helaena occasionally.

“How are you? Are you feeling better?” She asks her son, putting her hand lovingly on your shoulder, “I hope you’re settling in nicely.”

“I am, I have you and others to thank for that,” Aemond answers, glancing at you, giving a quick smile before he looks back at his mother, “Well, no thanks to Aegon who’s been up my ass since I came here—“

“I was nothing but nice to you, little shit—“

“Stop—“ Alicent tries to end their banter, but to no one’s surprise, she is not successful.

“Should I thank you for that?” Aemond cranes his neck to look at his older brother whose jaw is on the floor, the sandwich is frozen mid-air close to his lips, “because that’s the least you have done.”

“As if I didn’t help you carry that huge fucking vanity mirror upstairs—“

“You just held one corner of it, you child—“

“Stop, just fucking stop!” Alicent yells, making everyone gasp when she swears, “What now?”

“You swore,” Helaena says, grinning at her mother.

“It’s not my first time, I’m not a kid—“

“But you always tell us to mind our language,” Aegon matches Helaena’s grin, walking to stand beside you, “unless…”

“Leave her alone, please,” Aemond stands up and kisses Alicent’s forehead, “she’s been hanging with Criston for far too long, I’m afraid.”

“Hush you!” Alicent slaps his arm playfully, “How have you been, truly? Is there anything me or all of us can do for you?”

“I’m okay, Mum,” he tries to budge, to not let anyone see through the facade he’s been holding up since Alys sent his things to him, or what in particular has been sent, “don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry, darling? You haven’t talked to anyone about it! You are ignoring your grandfather’s calls—“

“I could care fucking less about what he has to say!” His voice booms through the room, shocking everyone to their core.

You had realized how short his temper had become ever since the incident, but to raise his voice at his mother was not something you would see coming. Maybe he is hurting more than anyone — even himself who says it’s okay, it’s alright, I’m fine — ever imagined.

“I apologize,” and with that he leaves the kitchen, stealing Helaena’s cup of tea on his way as he enters the TV room, finding Daeron wandering through the channels, stopping only when a headline catches his attention.

Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance spotted with a new lover!

Hello and good morning to our lovely audience! I’m Simon Strong and we are here with the newest celebrity gossip of Westeros! It wasn’t long ago when we heard the news of our very infamous couple’s break up, and now, only a month gone, Alys Rivers, Aemond Targaryen’s ex-fiance was spotted being too friendly with a colleague of hers!

But that is not the only news we have for you!

A few days ago Miss Rivers had done an interview with our reporter, she said and I quote; “Being with a man who can’t stand up against others who hurt you is a bad choice. I waited and watched him treat me as if I meant nothing to him, and it is something Targaryens are most famous for — their money and huge egos!”

The sound of a loud crash makes Daeron jump, and he sees the hot tea run down Aemond’s wounded hand — he breaks the cup in his fist and drops the remaining on the floor.

“Aemond, shit—“ Daeron jumps over the back of the couch, grabbing Aemond’s hand as he examines his bloodied palm. The cuts aren’t deep but many little open and bleeding wounds cover his skin.

Aemond’s head is foggy, he can’t think or function at that. Alys moving on was something he was ready to deal with, he knew she must have been cheating on him during their relationship, but to say such hurtful words to the press made him question everything.

What was the point of their relationship if all Alys wanted to do was ruin him and his reputation? Surely after being dismissed by his father at the council alongside Aegon, his reputation became nonexistent.

Alys was everything to Aemond, she was his light, the only glimmer of hope in his darkest moments. She was the only person who would curse this world with him and keep him safe in their bubble of joy.

Apparently, it was only Aemond who felt that unconditional love.

With a heavy heart, he pulls his hand out of Daeron’s grasp, and with heavy steps, he walks upstairs to his room, ignoring the calls of his name as he did on his wedding day.

No words have been spoken between Alys and him for the past month, absolutely none, except for the note she sent with that cursed box. To see her being so happy and doing interviews about their relationship makes him see red, but somewhere beneath this blinding rage, Alys’ words poke at his open wounds, having him bleeding from the gaping holes worse than before.

He pushes his bedroom door open, standing in the doorway for a second to gather his thoughts; the thoughts he has been burying deep down so he wouldn’t have to deal with them for a long time.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his fingers shaking with an unknowing fear. He knows everyone must have seen the news, his father, his grandfather, his sister, and her children.

The humiliation is inevitable now, thanks to his ex, even though he tried his best not to get caught in the whirlwind of the questions the media threw at him. Nothing can be changed now, not his public image, not his personal life, and certainly not how his family perceives him.

He runs his hand over his face, exhaling shakily as he repeats the words he heard on the news; being with a man who can’t stand up against those who hurt you is a bad choice. And all his life, through the years he stayed by her side, she did not need to ask him to stand up for her because he was already beating the guys to the pulp, getting into fights for her, but when it came to him she never reciprocated.

He remembers how he caught her texting one of his father’s employers on his twenty-first birthday, and he was so naive and stupid to let go of it when she said she just wanted to apply for a job to get closer to him, to Aemond, and he so easily believed her honey-coated words.

The sound of his phone ringing brings him out of his thoughts, making him sigh in exhaustion as he reaches into his pocket to pull it out, his grip tightening when he sees his grandfather’s name on the screen. He has probably seen the news and is ready to blame Aemond for the mess like he always does.

“Morning—“

“How could you not see this coming?” Otto’s voice is loud enough for him to distance the phone from his ear, closing his eye as he listens to his grandfather’s yells, “We worked so hard to keep your relationship out of the public eye, but now thanks to your idiocy the world knows about how you treated her!”

“No one knows anything about our relationship,” he replies, his tone cool and collected but he knows deep down he is one single moment away from breaking, “her words are nothing but lies—“

“Lies or not, you threw your reputation away because of a woman who was nothing before meeting you! Now it’s not just you who will pay the price, it’s your family, it’s our company!” Otto says, his words cutting Aemond like a knife being twisted in his ribcage, and what hurts the most about it is that Otto is not wrong.

Aemond introduced Alys to their company, and to his friends, got her a job, and made her famous, hell he even paid for the last year of her law school! He was an idiot for believing she was there for him, but what else could he do?

He was in love.

“I could care less about Viserys’ appearance and company! She left me, I can’t control what she says, I can’t control what she fucking does!” Aemond yells back, his patience finally being ripped away, “My reputation was shattered the moment you let Viserys’ daughter get her hands on our lives. She set the cameras up when Alys left the church because no one knew when the wedding would take place and you turned a fucking blind eye to it!”

“You need to sort out the mess you created by letting that witch take advantage of your generosity,” Otto groans in annoyance, “not generosity, no, your idiocy, your childishness and immaturity. You were a fucking child when you started seeing her! The scandal we had to cover — when the twenty years old younger son of Viserys Targaryen kissed a twenty-eight years old woman in King’s Landing — spread like fucking fire in Westeros and all our stocks’ worth dropped—“

“My fiance left me!” Aemond’s voice finally breaks when he looks up and sees you entering his room with a worried expression, his eye glistening with tears, “She left me on our wedding day! How cruel can you be? I spent days away from the streets to protect your precious status and reputation, I isolated myself for weeks because I didn’t have the strength to stand up and walk outside! Did you even think about how I felt? Did you, Otto, or all you could care about was Rhaenyra’s next move? How will the world see us now?”

You sit next to him on the bed in silence, and for once, he hate your presence, he hates the way you look at him with worried eyes and open ears, ready to take his pain away, trying to be his friend.

“I do not have time to deal with your childish tantrums, either you will accept that you are ruining this family and help me clear up your mess, or we will have a fucking problem—“

“Listen, Otto, I won’t do anything about this. You’re a fucking asshole for kissing Viserys’ ass for so long that you have forgotten how horribly he is treating us. All you care about is to make him look better, so no, I won’t take responsibility for something I haven’t done!” He hangs up, throwing the phone on the bed before he groans in disbelief, hiding his face in his hands, “what do you want?”

You look at him, confusion is evident on your face as he asks you the question in a very serious tone. He knows he shouldn’t be treating you, out of everyone like this, but at this moment he can’t help but let his anger consume him.

“I thought I should check up on you,” you respond quietly, looking at him with a sympathetic smile, “I saw the news.”

“Who hasn’t,” he scoffs, shaking his in annoyance, looking down at his bruised and bloody hand before he meets your gaze, “that’s very sweet of you.”

“Maybe I can be of help somehow if you tell me what you need—“

“I don’t need help,” he glares at you before huffing out his breath, his nails digging into his wounds as he fists his hand.

“Let me see your hand,” you try to reach out and grab his wrist gently but he pulls back harshly, startling you with his attitude, “Aemond, please—“

“What do you gain from this?” He asks suddenly, “What do you achieve by being nice to me? I don’t get it, you have everything you need; money, friends, a good job, I can’t give you anything.”

“You are my friend, I want to help you because you’re going through something so so hurtful and I don’t wish to see you so upset—“

“Pity,” he chuckles sarcastically, standing up to pace his room, “so you pity me! How very generous of you to come here with an excuse to check up on me while all you feel for me is fucking pity!”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head desperately, standing up to reach and take his hand in yours but he puts a good distance between the two of you, his glare never faltering, “I understand your pain and despair! I’ve been through the same situation. I know how much you must be doubting yourself, how you think all of this is your fault—“

“You have no idea what I’m feeling. You, the self-centered childhood friend of my sister who has seen so little of how I’ve been treated, think you know me,” Aemond raises his voice, his tone cuts deep into your bones and he sees it, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and how you shake your head in disbelief.

“I’ve been there with you all of your life, Little nerd. I watched you grow up, and I don’t pity you because I understand you, and because you’re my friend,” you sniff, wiping the single tear that falls on your cheek, “you should be upset about everything, hell you should be so fucking mad, but to say I pity you? I could never even think about upsetting you, let alone showing some fake sympathy to gain what? I want you to be happy—“

Aemond looks at you for a long minute, his hands balled into fists on his side as he tries to keep his breathing under control, his mind reeling with regret and anger; at himself, at Otto, at everyone but you. And yet, he treated you worse than others.

He leaves you alone in his room, marching downstairs to the library without glancing at anyone, especially Alicent who calls his name pleadingly. Aemond locks himself in there with Vhagar who jogged alongside him to the room, huffing and barking happily while he sits on the couch near the window, letting his tears stream down his cheek.

He doesn’t go out of the room for lunch and isolates himself from the outer world, letting himself get distracted by his books and Vhagar who happily cuddles him with her huge body while he reads.

After a few hours near the sunset, he hears a soft voice telling him that everyone’s going outside to the backyard near the Weirwood tree, spending the nice afternoon outdoors.

He doesn't respond, just grunts, and goes back to reading, even though he knows he should stand up and follow you there, beg for forgiveness, and apologize to you, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Not when he feels so ashamed of how horrible he has treated you.

After much thinking, he decides to get up and take a walk with Vhagar towards where you said you’d be. He grabs Vhagar’s favorite ball and claps for her to follow him. The pair walks outside the house, the fresh evening wind blows over their heads, and Aemond feels he can finally breathe.

Vhagar happily wiggles her tail as he spots the group sitting on the grass with Aegon telling a shitty hilarious story while drinking beer together, sharing a laughter or two. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre, Aegon & Helaena’s Golden Retrievers, are playing together, running and jumping on each other under the sunlight.

He spots you lying on the grass, resting your back on Helaena’s chest while the two of you listen to Aegon and Daeron’s bantering, giggling, and sharing a can of beer — you look so happy, and that makes Aemond stop dead in his tracks, having him second guessing whether he should be approaching you and others after how he talked to you.

“Oi, why are you so late?” Aegon asks, bending down to grab and throw a can of beer at him, “You almost missed the sunset.”

“I didn’t know if I wanted to come and tolerate your stupid jokes,” Aemond catches the beer, throwing Vhagar’s ball for her to catch before his good eye finds yours, but he looks away immediately, too ashamed and disgusted by his earlier behavior to even look at you.

“Ignore him,” Helaena says to her older brother then looks at Aemond, patting the place next to her for him to sit, “Come on, join us.”

“Fine,” he whispers, catching you giving him a small encouraging smile. Vhagar runs back with her ball caught between her teeth, dropping it before she makes herself comfortable on top of you, resting her head on your stomach.

“Hello, my old lady,” you coo at her, scratching behind her ears and back, chuckling at how happily she starts waggling her tail, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“So!” Aegon claps his hand to gain everyone’s attention, “I was talking before our gracious pirate interrupted me—“

“I haven’t used my eyepatch since I moved out,” Aemond grunts, thanking you quietly when handed him your beer so he doesn’t need to open his.

“Whatever, it still doesn’t change the fact that you look like a fucking pirate even with your prosthetic eye!”

“Leave him alone!” Daeron whines, “Please just continue whatever you were telling us.”

“Alright, so…”

Aemond doesn’t listen to what Aegon has to say, his eye trails from Vhagar’s sleepy face to yours, smiling and laughing at Aegon’s story. He can’t bring himself to think about how bad his words must have hurt, especially since he made you cry.

You turn around, meeting his gaze, reaching to grab the beer from his hand, giving him a reassuring smile in return, mouthing a silent ‘later’ so he knows you two will talk and you won’t be left in the dark.

“Shut up now, wanna watch the sunset without your annoying voice,” Daeron pulls his brother down to sit next to him, their backs resting against the Weirwood tree as everyone looks at the orange and pink hue of the sky, the sun slowly hiding behind the mountains.

“Get up kids, dinner’s on me!” Aegon smacks the back of Daeron’s head playfully, making the youngest Targaryen whine in pain before he also gets up and follows his brother inside the house.

“Order something in case he burns the house down,” you and Helaena get up as well, laughing at what Daeron said.

“You know what,” you say quietly, unlacing your fingers with Hel, making her turn around and look at you, “I think I’m gonna stay a little more.”

Aemond looks at his sister, nodding at her as she leaves the two of you alone. He watches you turn around and step towards him, sitting on the grass next to him just like you did on his wedding day.

“Hey you,”

“Hey,” he laughs softly, resting his head on the tree as he looks at you, matching your smile, “I’m sorry…”

“I know you are,” you take a deep breath, looking up at the sky, “you are under lots of pressure now, Little nerd, I understand that.”

“Do you forgive me?” He asks, his voice so fragile and little as if he were a child, “because I’d hate to ruin your summer just because of my temper. I’m sorry, I’ll get on my knees and beg you too.”

“You are forgiven,” you laugh softly, “but I meant it when I said that I understand. I wholeheartedly understand how you feel, Aemond, it wasn’t out of pity.”

“I know, shit, I know but I was so pissed at Otto I couldn’t get my emotions under control,” he sighs, “not that any of these are good excuses, and I’m really sorry.”

“Do you remember that time when I wouldn’t come over here at family gatherings? Hel must have told you all about my breakup.”

“Yeah, I remember…” he says, nodding as you continue.

“It was a rough four months of trying to get my shit together after Jason fucking Lannister stood me up,” you smile bitterly at the memory.

“He did what?” The shock on Aemond’s face only makes you laugh harder, “why didn’t we know about this?”

“Because I told Hel not to say anything,” you shrug, “yeah, you’re not the only one who had the pleasure of being stood up by a jerk. Anyway, we were together for a year, and everything was…hmm not too good but not too bad either. I liked him, maybe loved him even I don’t know I think I saw a future with him and I wanted my parents to meet him. I called him one day, took him out, paid for everything so I could tell him about the dinner my parents were planning.”

“All of this just for him to be a douchebag?” He teases you.

“Oh yeah,” you both laugh, “at first he was so open and lovely about this idea, but then… well the date came my parents and I were all looking around the restaurant all dumb and upset… I was the dumb one because I trusted a Lannister of all people but I liked him so much, and when I received a text from him after two hours of waiting for him, I broke down.”

“What was in the text?” Aemond asks, reaching for your hand, “You don’t have to tell—“

“He said he used me, that was it. Just sex and pleasure for over a year…that was all I meant to him,” you tear up a little, squeezing his hand as the two of you look at each other, “I may not understand your feelings completely because your situation is different, but I get it, I know how you feel to some extent.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that…you deserve someone better than Jason Lannister.”

“You too! You deserve someone much much better than Alys Rivers,” you run your thumb over his knuckles, “when you asked me what I would gain from this friendship… happiness, Aemond. You might not be my best friend but, you’ll always have a friend in me, and I like that we have shared interests, and your little jokes and banters with Aegon make me laugh. I like that, and I’m so sorry if you felt I was pitying you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I should be the one apologizing,” he smiles when you rest your head on his shoulder, juts how he did on his wedding day with you, “I like that too.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond fluff #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #🍊dreams

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [37] - Crown

A.N: Last two chapters! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, violence, I'M SERIOUS THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS ONE, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, it started out as a normal day.

“You are so pretty!” you told Alpine as you fixed the ribbon around her neck, then held up the feathery pen so that she could jump at it while you sat on the floor. “Yes you are! The prettiest princess in the entire world!”

“Charm?”

“Over here!” you called out and heard Bucky come downstairs, then he filled himself a cup of coffee before looking over his shoulder.

“You want some babe?”

“Nope,” you said, stroking Alpine’s fur. “Bucky, what are the chances that we got the prettiest and nicest cat in the entire world?”

“Zero, she’s an asshole.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“I love her, but it doesn’t mean she’s not an asshole,” Bucky said. “She never comes when I call.”

“Because she’s a cat, not a dog,” you said. “If we have a child one day, we’re so calling them Alpine Two.”

“We’re not going to do that.”

“Alpine Two and Alpine Three.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t listen to him, they’ll be Alpine Two and Three,” you told Alpine as Bucky sipped his coffee.

“Do you wanna grab lunch today?”

“I can’t,” you said. “I promised Ethan.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am not having this argument with you again when we’re in love and fucking each other’s brains out every night,” you pointed out, making him grin. “Relax with the jealousy dumbass, you already know I’m in love with you.”

He heaved a sigh, then held up his hands.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Go meet the puppy.”

“Bucky.”

“Is he not a puppy around you?”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “My friend whom I haven’t met in a while.”

“Yeah yeah…”

You scratched at Alpine’s head when she head bumped your knee while Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird since we had dinner at your father’s place.”

“Sure,” you said after a beat and he raised his brows.

“Charm.”

“No I’m fine,” you said. “I’m fine, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?”

“Business,” you said. “My father’s business, to be specific.”

He sipped his coffee. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“God no,” you said. “Of course not. I’m thinking about the consequences of it, that’s all. What it will mean for me.”

“It means the crown for you.”

You pursed your lips together. “And for Ian?”

He scoffed. “Who cares? You hate Ian.”

“Obviously I hate him,” you said. “But I’ll have to kill him, you do know that.”

“He signed his own death warrant the moment he accepted that heir position at the expense of you,” Bucky said. “I’ll kill him for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “How fucked up is it that I find this romantic?”

“That’s because I am romantic,” he said with a smirk. “Seriously. If you want me to—”

“I’ll just cross that bridge when I come to it,” you pointed out. “I appreciate the offer though.”

Bucky checked his wristwatch, then came closer to you to kiss you on the top of your head, and scratched at Alpine’s head.

“Gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Sure!” you said and watched him walk out of the apartment, then heaved a sigh and looked down at Alpine.

“Alright,” you said. “Come on, let’s get you some treats.”

The café Ethan had suggested was in your father’s territory, so it was a short car drive. Seeing that the weather was slowly getting cold nowadays, it didn’t surprise you to see Ethan already inside the nearly empty café as you walked in, and waved at him before making your way to him.

“Hey!” you said and he stood up to hug you.

“Hey stranger,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has,” you said, motioning for a cup of coffee at the waitress who forced a smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. You frowned slightly, but then turned to look at Ethan when he cleared his throat.

“So what’s been up with you lately?”

“Absolute chaos,” you pointed out, making him smile. “No seriously, things are just now starting to calm down.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah there was this business thing,” you muttered. “Never mind. How about you? What have you been doing lately?”

“I’m actually…” he paused for a moment. “I’m actually moving back to my hometown.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

“I don’t think New York is for me,” he said as you heard the wind bells chime by the door. “Or any big city for that matter.”

You opened your mouth to ask why, but a strange shiver went down your spine, the hair at the back of your neck rising up as his eyes went over your shoulder. You didn’t even have the time to think, your body seemed to have responded on instinct as the result of many years of training, so you kicked the table in his direction and jumped to your feet, but before you could turn around, two men had already grabbed you by the arms. You managed to kick one of them, turning around to punch the other, but another man caught your fist and turned you around, his friend punching you right on the nose so hard that you knew from the crack that he broke it before the blinding pain shot through your face. You stumbled back as two of them held you by the arms again and another one grabbed his gun, flipped it and slammed it on your head.

Then everything went black.

You couldn’t tell which one woke you up, the cold or the burning pain starting from your nose and spreading through your whole head. Your vision was blurry when you forced yourself to open your eyes, now realizing your hands were bound and a groan left your lips as you blinked as fast as you could to see better.

Ah.

Two of Ian’s men were waiting by the door along while Ethan sat across from you, his eyes fixed on the floor. You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach but you forced yourself to focus, there had to be a way out of this—

You just needed to find it.

The room you were in appeared to be a butcher’s freezer, which made you think you were at the edge of your father’s territory. The pain in your head was so heavy that you could barely just hold your head up, let alone moving your body so you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath through your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Ethan’s voice and you turned your head to see him looking down at the gun in his lap, your hands shooting up to wipe the blood on your face before touching your forehead.

Okay, that needed stitches.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated with a dry laugh. “How long have you been working for him?”

He shook his head fervently, rubbing his thumb over the gun.

“I don’t—I didn’t—” he stammered. “He contacted me couple of months ago.”

You raised your brows. “Let me guess, he’s paying you a shit load of money?”

He shook his head again.

“He said…he said he’d kill me if I didn’t...” he muttered. “For God’s sake I never wanted this whole bullshit, I don’t even know how to use—” he pushed at the tiny button beside the gun, the magazine dropping to the floor and a couple of bullets scattering around as one of Ian’s men came closer.

“What the fuck?” he asked him, snatching the gun out of his hand and picking up the magazine before walking to the other side of the room to continue his conversation with the other man. You gritted his teeth, anger pulsing through you.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan repeated and you shook your head.

“You know you’re going to die right?” you asked him. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant by pulling this shit.”

“Civilians aren’t harmed, that’s what the truce—”

“Civilians aren’t harmed as long as they remain civilians,” you corrected him, pulling at the rope around your wrists to loosen it a little. “You’ve just thrown your hat in the ring, buddy. And trust me; if Ian doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill you and if he does manage to kill me, Bucky will hunt you down, and kill you. Torture you first probably too. So regardless of if I die or not, you definitely will Ethan.”

“I’ll move out of the city.”

“There’s no city we can’t reach.”

“That’s not true,” he argued with you. “Everyone is saying Chicago is its own city.”

A small smile curled your lips despite fear churning your stomach, a small spark of satisfaction rushing through you.

“Right,” you said. “Sure. Move to Chicago.”

He swallowed thickly, then turned his head when the door opened and Ian walked in with Ryan. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes fell on your face, but then he gritted his teeth, snapping something at the men by the door under his breath. It was impossible to hear what he had said, but judging by the way it made them step back, it couldn’t be anything nice.

“Hi there cousin,” Ian had the audacity to smile at you as Ethan stood up from his chair.

“I can go right?” he said. “You promised.”

“Sure, some of our boys will accompany you to the border of the city, then you’re on your own,” Ian said. “Thank you for this. New York will owe you.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at Ian as Ethan walked out of the room and Ian tut tutted.

“You just couldn’t help it, could you?” he asked you. “All you had to do was just marry Barnes and give him an heir, and then you could spend money and do nothing for the rest of your life, but you just couldn’t do it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those are some big words for someone who’s about to die.”

No.

You couldn’t let panic take over your mind, you just couldn’t.

The safest option was to cling to anger.

“You don’t get to kill me and stay alive, Ian.”

“Oh I won’t be the one who killed you,” he said. “Your ex-boyfriend did. Everyone saw him meet you at that café after all.”

“And you think my dad will buy that bullshit?”

“I’ll make him buy it.”

“You think Bucky will buy that?” you spat and he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, he will come after me,” Ian said. “And that’ll start a war. Too bad.”

You gritted your teeth. “You don’t have the means to survive a war, dickhead.”

“You have no reason to worry about that,” Ian said. “You’re not walking out of here alive after all.”

You licked your lips, the metallic taste of blood reaching your throat as Ian nodded at his men.

“Untie her.”

One of his men came to cut the rope around your wrist and helped you up while the other one pointed his gun at you just in case. The whole room was spinning around you, your heart beating in your throat but you tried to fix your breathing.

It was fine.

It was going to be fine.

“Ryan, my gun,” Ian ordered and Ryan stared at you, then pulled out the gun from his waistband, quickly taking out the magazine to check the bullets before sliding it in again.

“Leave us,” Ian said and Ryan licked his lips, stealing a look at you before he walked outside with the rest of Ian’s men following him. He slammed the heavy door behind them and you clenched your fists, still glaring at Ian.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ian said, pointing the gun at your face. “I did, numerous times. Get on your knees.”

“No,” you said. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me standing.”

Ian took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly.

“As you wish,” he said and raised the gun a little to aim for your forehead, the fear making your eyes burn but you quickly blinked the tears back, forcing yourself to focus on—

Bucky.

It was strange, how it worked. Everyone talked about how this business was dangerous, but no one talked about what one would think when there was a gun about to blow their head off.

There was fear yes, but the memory of happiness shed a small ray of sunlight on it. Knowing Bucky would stop at nothing to take your revenge almost soothed the pain of knowing you would never see him again, at least—

At least in this life.

But you knew you loved him. He knew you loved him.

That was enough, somehow. Even with a gun pointing at your head.

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” Ian recited. “Goodbye, cousin.”

You closed your eyes, holding your breath and bracing yourself for the deafening gunshot but the only thing that echoed through the room was the empty click, making your eyes snap open while Ian gawked at the gun in his hand, fear flashing over his face as he froze.

…Ryan.

Ryan had taken out the bullets.

The adrenaline that roared through you was powerful enough to overcome the fog in your brain or the pain on your face as you lunged at him to knock the gun out of his hand, slamming him back to the heavy door, the unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing outside. Ian shoved you back as hard as he could and tried to swing a punch at you but you quickly dodged it, elbowing him on the nose.

“Welcome to your cage fight, Ian,” you spat as he wiped at his nose.

“You dumb bitch…” he muttered, then swung at you again but you quickly stepped back, grabbed his wrist and turned it with all your strength until you heard the pop, and his yell of pain. He kicked you on the knee hard, making you scream out of pain as you stumbled back, and he tried to grab at you with his other hand but you had already punch him right in the neck, making him gasp and fall on his knees, clutching at his neck.

“You know,” you said, breathing hard as you grabbed the gun off the floor and picked up one of the bullets Ethan had dropped earlier. “I should thank you for this. I was having second thoughts earlier, but now…”

He was still gasping for air as you slid the magazine out, put the bullet inside and slid it back again, making him drag himself back on his palms until his back hit the wall.

“Exile me,” he managed to say, and you tilted your head. “Exile me somewhere else.”

You shook your head, adrenaline making your head spin.

“You know how this shit goes,” you said through clenched teeth. “You tried to kill me. Exiling you isn’t enough.”

“I’ll forfeit the title!” he said, still breathless and you shook your head again, then pointed the gun at him with a sigh.

“I'm sorry Ian,” you said. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

With that, you pulled the trigger and heard the loud bang before the blood splattered over your face, making you grimace as his body slipped on the floor. You wiped at your face, then slammed open the door to point the gun at whoever was outside, but the only thing you could see was Ian’s men bleeding on the ground while Ryan stood by the door, his back straight as if he was waiting for your order.

“Ma’am,” he said with his hands clasped behind him, and he bowed his head a little as you smiled at him.

“Thank you,” you rasped out, raising your head to stare up at the dark sky before turning to him. “Ryan, is there any chance you’re looking for a new job?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

“Working for your father’s heir would be an honor, ma’am,” he said softly and you let out a small laugh.

“Good,” you said as you limped to the car parked right outside the back alley with Ryan following you. “You’re hired.”

Chapter 38

427 notes · View notes

chimcess · 16 days ago

Text

⮞ Teaser Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Coach!Yoongi, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Drop Date: 01/20/2025 Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player.

I never used to think about what came after. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the end of a novel when you’re still tangled in the middle. Every chapter rushing by, barely letting you catch your breath. Sometimes, life dangled a dream so vivid, so close, you could almost feel it in your hands. But right when you thought you had it? That’s when life reminded you—pages stop turning. Lights flick off. And suddenly, you’re back in the grind, stuck right where you started.

Normal? No chance. I wouldn’t recognize normal if it jumped out of the shadows and hit me. Normal was for people who punched clocks and sipped lukewarm coffee in beige cubicles. My mornings started when the world was still dark—lacing up my skates, the cold air biting at my face. Stretch until the pain dulled, practice until my routines were burned into my mind like a broken record. The rink smelled like sweat, frost, and desperation, clinging to me as I chased that perfect moment, day in and day out.

That was my life. Until it wasn’t.

From the moment I took my first steps, the ice had been my escape. My personal sanctuary. Each time my skates touched the frozen surface, electricity sparked through me, alive in my bones. My mom, Emily, she saw it first. She recognized that fire in me and latched on, pulling me headfirst into the competitive skating world. She wasn’t just supportive—she was relentless, like a storm barreling down on me, pushing me to be perfect. To her, maybe that was all that mattered.

People whispered behind her back, saying she was living vicariously through me, chasing dreams she’d lost. But I didn’t resent her for it. Her ambition, fierce and all-consuming, burned like a fire. It kept me warm—even when it scorched me. It wasn’t the trophies or the standing ovations that drove me. It was the ice itself. Out there, I wasn’t just a name on a roster. I was free.

Emily had been a skater once, too. But life, cruel and chaotic, had other plans. Her dreams fizzled out, lost somewhere between time and circumstance. When she got pregnant with me, she married my dad, Jim, and watched her ambitions wither like dead leaves. Year by year, regret settled in, until all she had left was me—and the ice. I became her second chance.

She met Jim when she was still a bright-eyed girl in a small town, dreaming big. He came to Michigan for police training; she was restless, yearning for more. They fell in love—or something close to it. Soon enough, I came along, and after a quick courthouse wedding, our lives unraveled. Emily and I left Michigan for Colorado, chasing skating dreams. Jim drifted back to Olympia, Washington, sinking into his routine like it was quicksand.

I became the bridge between them, constantly tugged between my dad’s predictable world and my mom’s fierce drive. Stability—something I longed for—was never in the cards. Emily hated Michigan, so we stayed away. Jim became less of a father and more of a ghost.

The crackle of the intercom yanked me from my thoughts. My knee throbbed, a bitter reminder.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re starting our descent into Detroit, where it’s currently five-eighteen p.m., and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.”

Michigan. I was back, but it didn’t feel like home. It hadn’t for years. And yet, here I was. Family wasn’t a refuge—not with Jim. He felt more like a stranger now, a shadow of someone I used to know. The home we once had? Long gone.

Monday, I’d meet with Dr. Jeon. People swore he was the best, but deep down, I already knew none of it mattered. The moment my skate hit that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and the world flipped upside down, I knew—my skating days were over.

I could still see it. The rink, bathed in soft afternoon light, the sound of *Swan Lake* floating through the air. I wasn’t competing that day, just skating for the sheer joy of it. Emily and my coach were in the bleachers, discussing my next routine. I built up speed, heading into a fan spiral, when it happened. My blade caught. My leg buckled. I hit the ice hard. Everything went dark.

The plane’s landing gear screeched, snapping me back to the present. My heart raced, the memory fading like smoke. As the plane stopped, passengers scrambled for their bags. I waited, letting them pass, before grabbing my things. The crutches in my hands were cold, unfamiliar. I used to glide effortlessly across the ice, and now, here I was—struggling just to stay upright on solid ground.

At baggage claim, I stared at the mountain of luggage, feeling the weight of it all sink in. How was I supposed to manage with no free hands?

“You need a hand?”

The voice startled me. I turned and saw him—tall, with warm brown eyes that somehow felt like they saw right through me. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch clattered to the floor. I wobbled, reaching out to steady myself, but he was faster. He caught me.

For a moment, the noise, the crowd, everything blurred. It was just us, frozen in time.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, steady, his hands still gripping my arms. I nodded, heat flushing my face as I pulled away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I muttered. He bent down, picking up my crutch. As he handed it back, his eyes lingered on me, not with pity, but with something else. Understanding, maybe.

“No problem.” His smile was easy, casual, but there was something behind it, like he had more to say.

Around us, life resumed its frantic pace—people rushing by, voices bouncing off the airport’s high ceilings. But for just a second longer, it was still only us.

“Need help with your bags?” he asked, glancing at the heap of luggage.

I hesitated, my pride prickling. “I’ve got it,” I said, even though I clearly didn’t. My knee throbbed in protest.

He didn’t push. Just smiled, unbothered, and shrugged. “Alright. But it’s no trouble if you change your mind.”

As I shifted my weight, feeling the twinge in my leg, I sighed. “Okay, yeah, I could use some help.” The words tasted like defeat, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He easily grabbed my suitcase, balancing my smaller bag on top. I clung to my messenger bag, determined to carry something myself.

"Is someone picking you up?" he asked as we walked toward the sliding glass doors, the cold Michigan air sneaking in like a thief in the night.

"No, I'll just grab a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. His presence next to me felt steady, comforting, like a life raft I didn’t even know I needed.

“I’ve got my car in the overnight lot,” he offered casually, like it was no big deal. “I could give you a ride if you want.”

For a moment, I hesitated, caught off guard by the offer. “No, it’s okay,” I said, almost too quickly. “A cab’s fine.” But something shifted in his face—just for a second. Disappointment? Or was that just my imagination?

We stepped outside, and the cold hit me like a slap, sharp and biting. I cursed under my breath for not grabbing my gloves.

He noticed, his lips quirking up in a knowing smile. “Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, pulling my coat tighter. “Something like that.” I should’ve been used to it by now. I grew up on ice, for God’s sake. But standing there in the freezing wind felt different, like the cold wasn’t just outside—it was creeping inside me, gnawing at the edges of something deeper.

“So, where were you before this?” he asked, his curiosity genuine, his breath hanging in the air like smoke.

“Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot.” I don’t even know why I was telling him this. I didn’t even know his name.

“We?” He raised an eyebrow, the question soft, but pointed.

“Me and my mom,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She’s never been one to stay put. Wherever she went, I followed.”

He nodded, like he understood more than he should. “A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting.”

I let out a small laugh, more out of habit than anything else. “Yeah, it can be.” But there was something easy about him, something that made this whole conversation feel less strange, less fleeting.

“You staying here for a while?” he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold forgotten for a moment.

“For the foreseeable future,” I replied, surprising myself with how easily the words slipped out.

“Good to know.” His voice softened, like he was letting me in on some secret only we shared. That crooked smile crept back, and I felt my pulse quicken again. He had no idea what he was doing to me.

I bit my lip, trying to steady the rush of nerves rising in my chest. What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasn’t real life—it was the stuff of daydreams. But somehow, with him, it felt real. Almost too real.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said, his hand lifting to ruffle his hair again. The messy strands fell back into place like he didn’t care—like he knew exactly how disheveled he looked and leaned into it.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. The airport, the cold wind—it all seemed to fade away, leaving just us in this strange, fleeting moment.

“You live nearby?” I asked, even though I knew I should’ve been hopping into a cab by now, getting out of this freezing wind and back to whatever was left of my life.

“Detroit,” he said, his breath fogging in the air like a ghost of something lost.

“Me too,” I said, a little too quickly. “Just moved there, actually.”

“Downtown?” He asked it casually, but his eyes were sharp, as if my answer might mean more than I realized.

“Royal Oak,” I said, nodding. “The old houses there... they’re beautiful.”

“They are,” he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things I didn’t even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked between my eyes and my lips, and for a moment, the air between us stretched thin, a fragile thread pulling us closer until a sharp gust of wind snapped it, jolting me back to reality.

"Welcome to Michigan," he said with a laugh, his voice warm against the icy air. Without warning, he reached down and took my bare hands in his. The warmth of his touch jolted through me, electric, racing straight to my core. For a second, I swore the ground shifted beneath us. Something unspoken buzzed between our hands.

“We should get you a cab,” he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softening with concern. “You’re not exactly dressed for this weather.”

"Yeah, I probably should’ve planned better,” I admitted with a laugh, still caught up in the warmth of his hands, the way they made everything else feel just a little less cold.

He waved down a cab with the ease of someone who’s done it a hundred times. I watched him as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he opened the passenger door for me, I hesitated. I stood at the edge of that moment, torn between the part of me that wanted to leave and the part that wanted to stay, just a little longer.

“Thanks for the help,” I said, looking up at him, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

“Jungkook,” he said, his voice soft, that crooked smile still tugging at his lips. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I replied, the name slipping out of my mouth so naturally it felt like it was meant for him, like it was always supposed to be said here, in this cold, surreal moment.

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was testing it on his tongue, like it was something fragile and precious. He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Y/N?" His hand hovered near my shoulder, his voice even quieter now, almost as if he was about to share a secret meant only for me.

And suddenly, the world around us—everything—fell away. The cold, the noise, the blur of people rushing past. It was just him, standing there with that crooked grin, making me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end of whatever this was.

“Yeah, Jungkook?” I asked, my breath catching, anticipation curling low in my stomach.

“My friends and I... we hang out at this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Billy’s?” He said it like a suggestion, but it felt like more. Like a bridge to whatever might come next. “Maybe I’ll see you there sometime?”

A thrill shot through me, quick and unexpected. This wasn’t just some random, fleeting connection. He wanted to see me again. “Yeah,” I stammered, my voice barely steady. “I could swing by. Once I’m settled in.”

“Great.” His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door creak open, revealing something softer, something vulnerable underneath. "I’ll see you around then, Y/N." He stepped back, shut the door behind me with a quiet finality.

As the cab pulled away, I turned, craning for one last look. He waved, easy and casual, and I lifted my hand in return, my heart still racing. Part of me wanted to freeze this moment, hold onto it before it slipped away. But the cab turned the corner, and just like that, he was gone.

I slumped back in the seat, exhaustion settling in like a heavy weight. I rested my head against the cold window, letting the chill ground me. This wasn’t just some daydream—it was real. And yet, as the city lights blurred by, doubts started creeping in, shadows curling at the edges of my mind. Would I really show up at Billy’s? Or would I let this whole thing fade, convincing myself it was just a fluke?

But then I thought about him—Jungkook. That crooked smile. And a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder... What if?

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twice-inamillion · 2 months ago

Text

The Company

Sisters in San Francisco

Smut (Deep penetration, forced creampie, doggy style, cowgirl, sister sex)

Chapter 16

4,340 Words

(Jessica asks you to visit her during the Lunar New Year. She also asks you to bring her sister, who dislikes you for getting her sister pregnant.)

”You’re coming to my place for Lunar New Year, right?”

”Yeah, I just need to take care of some things, and I can fly out tomorrow.”

”Also, can I ask you for a favor?”

”What is it?”

”Would you mind taking my sister?”

”Doesn’t she hate me?”

”Yeah, but there are no last-minute flights. Can you please take her?”

” Okay, I will, but if she complains, I’ll like her out of the plane myself.”

”Thank you, thank you! Let me get in contact with her and send her your details.”

———

The flight from Seoul to San Francisco was surprisingly a calm one. Krystal was fairly calm and kept to herself while you remained on the other side of the plane.

“Good Morning, everyone. It is 7:30 in the morning in San Francisco, California. We will be touching down in ten minutes. When we arrive, the care will be waiting for you all. Hope you enjoyed the flight, and we await your return.”

The plane arrives at the hangar, the door opens, and you are greeted by your chauffeur, “Welcome to San Francisco, sir.”

”Thank you.”

The chauffeur opens the door, helps with your belongings, and enters the car. “Where to sir?”

”Let’s head to Ms. Jung’s place.”

”As you wish.”

Krystal stares out the window, seeing their old home after not visiting for a while. Meanwhile, you text Jessica about your arrival from the airport, and the two of you heading to her house.

“See you soon.”

The ride to Pacific Heights is a smooth one, the sights of the Bay Area as you neared the house. The closer you got there, the bigger the Golden State Bridge looked. “We are arriving, sir.”

The car pulls towards the front of the house and parks. The chauffeur opens the car, and you see Jessica open the door and exit. Krystal runs towards Jessica and gives her a hug, “How are you, Jess? How’s the baby?”

“The baby is great. Growing pretty fast.”

“How was the plane ride?”

”It was okay; I behaved like you asked.”

Jessica looks towards my direction and asks, “How was she?”

”She was insufferable, but you know me, I managed.”

”He’s lying.”

”I know; he messaged me earlier and said you were good. He’s just teasing you.”

”Well… I don’t like it,” turning around and glaring at you.

The three of you enter the house to drop off your bag, “I found a place to have breakfast. We can head out in a bit if you’re all good.”

”I’m fine. Can I take a shower beforehand?”

”Sure, you can shower in the guest room.”

You walk the flight of stairs, take your bags to the guest room, and shower. Once you’re ready, you see Jessica and Krystal coming out of the room next to you, “You look nice.”

”Thanks.”

”Oh, by the way. I finished the nursery room that I mentioned to you before. Want to see?”

“Sure.”

She opens the door, and the color catches your eye. Everything in the room is cream in color, including the crib, furniture, and even the stuffed animals that are a shade dark. “What do you think?”

”It looks great.”

”Thanks, I wanted something simple and minimalistic. It took me a while for me to choose what I wanted.” Jessica gives you a small tour, showing you the clothes, toys, and the scrapbook she made for the baby.

You look at Jessica and see how happy she is, which hits you: you’re going to have a child with her. Her belly is much bigger from the last time you saw her, and her breasts have also gotten bigger, but her beauty is still the same.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks.

”You’re so pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”

Jessica blushes at your response and covers her face.

”Ew, don’t do that while I’m here. If you are, you should get a room or something,” says Krystal.

”Maybe we should,” looking at Jessica. She turns to the side, trying to hide her reaction, but the redness on the tip of her ears makes it obvious.

“Alright, let’s change the subject and go have breakfast,” says Jessica.

Breakfast goes well, and the three of you enjoy the view and listening to the stories that Jessica has to share. Most of them are about her experiences throughout her pregnancy and her work life.

After breakfast, you all go for a walk around Chinatown and see the events of the day. You see the two sisters bonding and having fun, and it reminds you of your own family.

After a few hours, Jessica says, “Let’s head back; my feet are killing me.” You agree and take them back to the house. It’s already evening, and you have all decided to have dinner.

“Want me to cook, or should we order in?”

“You’re tired, so let’s order in.”

Krystal then says, “Let me order, I know a place that has good food.”

“Okay, Krystal.”

Jessica looks at you and says, “Let’s go to the deck and watch the sunset with me.”

“Okay, let’s go.” You help her out of the chair and walk out onto the deck. The two of you sit on a large couch, and puts her back against your chest.

“How have you actually been?”

“Tired, my feet hurt constantly, and I’m craving food a lot. It’s all your fault.”

“Haha, it’s both our fault, not just me.”

“You’re the one who got me pregnant.”

“True, but remember you were the one begging me to cum inside…”

Her head recalls the memory of those nights of sex. The number of times she got pumped full of baby batter made her face turn red.

“You’re thinking of it, huh.”

“No!”

You grab her and put her in between your legs, rubbing her thighs and whispering, “Remember how wet you got when I was fucking you that night?”

You slide your hand inside her dress, gliding your hand across her thigh as you kiss the side of her neck. She shivers at the slightest touch, “It’s been a while, huh.”

”What do you mean?”

”Since we last fucked.”

You continue to glide your hand until you reach her panties, pulling them aside. Jessica moans slightly to your touch, a feeling she hasn’t felt in a while.

“Don’t… Krystal might walk in…”

“That’s fine, let her walk in,” tracing your fingers against her folds. You feel her tremble the deeper you go, collecting nectar from the source.

“Please…” squeezing her thighs together.

“You’re so wet; you missed this, right?”

“Yes… it’s much more different when it’s real.”

You notice her heart beat faster and go in for a kiss. She finally lets loose and doesn’t care if her sister walks in. “Babe, I want you… I need you…”

Teasing her, you ask, “What do you want me to do?”

“You’re really going to make me say it huh.”

“Yes, I want to hear you say it.”

She whispers in your ear, “I want you to fuck me; I want to feel your cock inside me.”

“You’re bad, what about the baby?”

“Don’t worry, I’m stable.”

You press your fingers deeper until they disappear, “Ahh, aah, just like that. Keep going.”

Just then, Krystal walks out, “The food is here!” She looks at the both of you, her sister grinding as you have your hand inside her dress. “Eww! You two are disgusting; get a room,” and walks out completely flushed.

“Krystal, wait!”

“Don’t; she needs to understand that you have needs too.”

“I guess you’re right.”

You pull out your fingers and show her the amount of nectar you collected, “Do you think it’s healthy being this backed up?”

“No, it’s just that regular toys don’t work; it’s not the same as the real thing.”

“How about later tonight, I help you out?”, giving her a wink.

“I’d love that.”

The two of you walk to the kitchen and see Krystal setting up the table. She tries to avoid eye contact with the two of you initially, but after Jessica apologizes, they make up.

After dinner, you all play a couple of games to break the ice between you and Krystal. You’re surprised by how obedient she is to Jessica, but you assume it’s because of their close relationship and her pregnancy.

“Okay, I'm tired, Krystal. Let’s call it a night.”

“Good night, I’ll clean up here.”

Standing up from the table, Jessica grabs your hand and whispers, “I’m going to shower; come help me.” The two of you walk upstairs as Krystal tries to think of something else.

After taking a shower, she spends some time in the living room watching some videos. She looks at her phone, realizing how late it is, and decides to head up the stairs to her room.

As she gets to the second floor, she notices noises coming from the opposite side of her hallway. Curious, she makes her way towards the master bedroom and hears her sister moan. She puts her eye through the small slit and sees her sister in skimpy lingerie riding you.

“Ahh ahh, this is what I was missing. I missed your cock inside of me.”

Krystal was hypnotized by the way her older sister rode you, her pregnant cunt holding your cock tightly every time she bounced. Her swollen belly didn’t stop her from getting her needs satisfied.

“You feel so big inside of me…”

“Are you okay? Want to switch up a bit?”

“Okay, let me get a pillow.”

Jessica unmounts you and gets on the pillow you placed before her. Using it as support, she lays on top of it and gets on all fours.

Krystal’s eyes go wide when she catches a glimpse of your massive cock, wondering if it would hurt the baby.

“Jessica, are you ready?”

“Yes… just put it inside, don’t make me wait.”

You slap your cock against her ass cheek and align it in front of her entrance. Her leaking cunt welcomes you once more as it easily spreads for your length.

“Yes… that’s it… fuck… so big.”

“Omg, how does unnie fit that massive thing in her?”

You grab Jessica’s hips and insert the rest of your cock until she cries out from pleasure, “fuck, you’re hitting my baby room.”

She turns her head and says, “Put your weight on me and fuck me nice and slow; I want to feel it.”

Krystal sees her sister disappear under your frame; she moves her fingers toward her lower area and notices how damp her shorts are.

She loses track of time as she rubs her fingers against her shorts when she hears you warn Jessica, “I’m going to cum.”

“Do it inside; fill my baby room with your cum.”

You pull most of your cock out, only leaving the tip before sliding yourself back inside. Jessica groans from her walls being scraped and stretched, “Yes, just like that. Fill me, please!”

You hold her tightly as a stream of cum floods her womb, her walls tightening, taking every drop of cum as delicious nutrients.

Krystal watches as you pull out your cock, a large white load of cum oozing out her sister's cunt and onto her sheets. Jessica's expression was one of satisfaction after not having met her needs since the beginning of her pregnancy.

You head to the bathroom and clean up while Jessica remains on the bed, completely filled. She turns around and sees her sister looking through the door. She greets her with a smile. Wanting to tease her, she spreads her legs wider, giving her a better view of her leaking cunt.

On the other side, Krystal gets startled from getting caught by her sister. She sees you come out of the bathroom when Jessica says, “Up for round two?”

You reply, “I thought you were tired.”

“I am, but I want you inside me.”

“Alright, but let’s try to keep it down since your sister is going to nag at me if we’re too loud.”

“Don’t worry about Krystal, this is my house. I can do whatever I want here,” she said as she looked directly at her.

“That’s why I like you,” as you go in for a kiss. “Let me go downstairs and get something to drink. Want anything?”

“Just water is fine.”

You put on some shorts and head to the door. Krystal immediately stands up and runs to her room. She lies in her room, imagining her sister going at it, round after around throughout the night.

——

Krystal walks down the stairs after having a hard time sleeping. She couldn’t get the image of last night out of her room and ended up rubbing one out.

“Good morning, Krystal.”

“Good morning, unnie.”

“Where’s your baby daddy?”

“Don’t call him that; try to be nice to him.”

“Whatever.”

“He went out for a run. Said he’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll eat a quick breakfast and head out. I’m going to meet some friends.”

“Are you avoiding him because of last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know…”

Krystal’s ears turn beet red, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, maybe I’m wrong… have fun with your “friend…”

It is then when the door opens, and the two of them stand next to each other, “Welcome back,” giving you a small rag to wipe yourself.

”Wow, you worked up quite a sweat,” she said, touching her abs and arms as she looked at her sister. “Might ask for another round later on tonight,” and chuckles.”

”Wait… your sister is here.”

”Don’t worry, she doesn’t mind, right?”

You look at Krystal and see her beet-red ears, “Whatever, do what you want.”

“See…”

“I’m going to go change; my friend is going to pick me up soon,” and goes upstairs.

You look back at Jessica and ask, “Ohh, I didn’t know she was going out.”

”Same, maybe one of her girlfriends.”

”Too bad, with her attitude, she really needs a boyfriend.”

”You’re right.”

”Maybe she’ll fix that attitude of hers after a good pounding.”

Krystal walks down the stairs and shouts, “Alright, I’ll be back in the evening!” and exits the door.

———-

Krystal comes back home late at night, “I’m back.” Jessica, who is sitting in the living room reading some magazines, asks, “How was your day?”

”It was good, I just hung out with one of my girlfriends.”

”That’s good, no guy friends?”

Krystal is surprised by the question but replies, “Uhh… no.”

”That's too bad, you’ll find one soon,” caressing Krystal’s hair. She then asks, “You know what? Let's do this: take a shower with me like in the old days.”

Krystal reminisces when she and Jessica would do everything together, “Okay, let’s go.”

The two of them shower, engage in sister talk, and share their secrets with each other. Jessica talks about the hard time she had setting up her business, even during her pregnancy. “Look at me now, my belly is noticeable and I’m constantly horny.”

“It’s all his fault; he did this to you.”

”Don’t blame him. I knew what could have happened, but I still did it. Just a taste of his cock got me addicted to him,” as she lightly touches her cunt. She brings her fingers up to Krystal and says, “Just by thinking about him, I’m already wet.”

“Unnie, don’t; that’s disgusting.”

“Tell me, Krystal. When was the last time you got intimate?”

Krystal looks down and shyly says, “A bit over a year, maybe more.”

Jessica holds Krystal’s hand and asks, “Want to give him a try?”

“What?”

“He’ll make you feel real good.”

“But you’re having his kid…”

“I don’t mind sharing him, plus we’re sisters.”

“Ugh… I don’t think so…”

“I know you saw him fuck me from behind. I know you’re backed up as I am.”

“…”

“Do it for me. If you don’t like it, then I won’t mention it before.”

Krystal stays silent for a while and says, “Okay, just once, but if he cums in me, I’m going to punch him.”

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

The notification ding goes off, and you see a text message from Jessica, “Come to my room.” Curious, you head to Jessica’s room across the hallway and knock, “Come in!”

As you open the door, you see Jessica on the bed, leaning against the large pillows on the bed in her bathrobe. She lifts part of her robe and says, “Like what you see?”

You slowly walk towards her, “fuck yeah, I’m up for another round.” Jessica replies, “Maybe we should spice things up a bit.”

You hear the door close behind you and see Krystal turning the door lock. You turn back and see Jessica’s grin, “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, so I thought we could let her join our fun.”

Jessica looks at Krystal and says, “Show him how serious you are.” You turn around once more and see Krystal drop her bathrobe as well. She walks towards her sister, who is extending her arm, “Come sit, here.”

You see Krystal climb up the bed next to Jessica, “I know you two don’t get along, but both of you are important to me, so I think that this might bring you two closer.”

”I’m okay with it if she is.”

You look at Krystal and wait for her response, “I’m good with it too.”

”Okay, I want to watch the two of you get along, so take off your pants.” You drop your shorts and extend your hand towards Krystal.

She slowly reaches for your arm, and you lead her to the middle of the room. Standing in front of one another you part Krystal’s hair to the side and kiss her neck. She squints from the awkwardness of your kissing but after a while she loosens up.

You reach for her bathrobe belt and unfasten it, causing it to drop and reveal her nude body. She tries to cover her breasts and lower area, but you part her hand and instead lead her to the bed.

Her demeanor changes, she becomes compliant to your advances and lays on her back. As you climb onto the bed, you get on top of her; she feels small compared to your frame and becomes nervous about what you’re going to do.

You cup on her breast and kiss her collarbone, making her slightly moan. With your other hand, you slide it down towards her folds and gently rub her lower lips.

Meanwhile, Jessica watches as her sister begins to enjoy your foreplay, being considerate of what’s to come. She loosens her bathrobe, exposing her breasts and gently rubbing them.

Feeling some wetness coming from Krystal’s lower area, you stop your advances and move towards her legs. You spread her legs, move forward and grab your flaccid cock in your hand.

Krystal feels your flaccid cock smacking against her cunt; it’s heavy but average. She tells herself it’s not that big, not as Jessica described it.

You slowly insert the tip into her entrance and slowly move more inside of her until it’s halfway in. Krystal makes an uncomfortable expression but gets adjusted to your flaccid cock.

“I’m halfway in. Are you ready?”

“Sure, you’re not that big anyway.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, my last boyfriend was this big.”

Jessica tries to tell Krystal to shut up and not taunt but it’s too late. You pick Krystal up and pin her against the wall. She smiles, thinking that she might have hit a trigger, but that smile immediately disappears as she feels something growing inside of her.

Krystal groans as her walls stretch to its maximum, your flaccid cock turning into a rod of steel. She’d never experienced this type of pain and pleasure before, not even when she lost her virginity to her previous boyfriend. “Ahh… what the fuck, it’s getting bigger inside of me. You’re going to break me!”

With her face against the wall, you pull her hair, tilting her head, and begin to thrust. “Fuck, you’re too big, pull out!” Her feet tremble from your massive size cock going in and out of her small cunt. You continue to pull her hair and thrust until he has no energy in her legs.

You let go of her hair and pick her up, tossing her onto the bed where her sister is. She looks at Jessica, and all she says is, “I told you to keep quiet.” Krystal looks back at you as you climb on the bed.

“Let’s go for the main event. Get ready because I’m going to make sure I break you in like I did your sister.”

She looks at your throbbing cock, veins fully showing, “Get that thing away from me!”

Instead, you give her a devilish grin, causing her expression to change. You place her legs on your shoulders and smack your length against her cunt. “Think this is the same as your boyfriend?”

Krystal can already feel how heavy your cock is just by it being smacked on her cunt. She knows that if she’s fucked by this monstrosity, there’s no turning back. “Wait… I’m Sorr…”

Her eyes go wide as you ignore her plea and shove your cock inside her small cunt all at once. Her body spasms from the impact, her belly bulging as if she were pregnant like her sister.

*Cough, cough, cough*

She turns her head to her sister, who is sitting next to her, watching. Jessica moves her fingers towards her cunt, rubbing it slowly as you begin to thrust inside of Krystal. Every time you thrust inside, she sees the large outline of your cock. She didn’t know that someone could be this big.

“How do you like his cock, little sis.”

“Ugh… it feels like my organs are getting rearranged every time he goes inside me. I’m scared Unnie…”

Jessica doesn’t reply; she’s too preoccupied with touching herself.

“Your sister is not going to help you. You put up a strong front, but in reality, you’re just cock hungry like her.”

She sees you putting her into a mating press, smacking your cock at her entrance once more. “Wait… I’m sorry. Be more gentle!”

Krystal coughs uncontrollably as you split her wide open. She begs for you to slow down, but it’s to no avail as you’re determined to make her crazy. “Take this fucken cock. Feel as your womb takes the shape of my cock, haha.”

Jessica increases the pace of her fingers as she rubs her folds while watching you fuck her sister. The way Krystal struggles to take your cock reminds her of herself before her pregnancy.

She tells herself,” I can wait for the baby to be born. I want him to fuck me like that one night.”

You continue to fuck her roughly, her pleading turning into a scene of a complete mess. Her eyes roll back from the intense pleasure, and her body limb like a human fuck doll. This new sensation is foreign to her; not even her previous boyfriend made her feel this way.

Suddenly, she loses control of her body as it begins to shake violently. “I’m cumming!” Her walls tighten and release a wave of ecstasy as she coats your cock with her liquid warmth.

You pull your cock out and see her juices spill out, “what’s a complete mess.” She continues to spasm and turns to see Jessica.

“I’m going to cum on her face, haha.”

She looks at you with a heavy expression and replies, “Do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, if that’s the case, then the only way is directly into the source.” You grin at Krystal’s defenseless state and place your cock above her entrance. She turns to you, barely able to open her eyes when she sees you align yourself and tries to push you away.

She’s seen that expression before, the expression of a man who is ready to cum inside of a woman. Luckily, the previous times have been with a condom as she’s trying to avoid any unnecessary pregnancies.

Just as you’re able to insert your cock, she regains her rationality. “Wait, what are you doing? Do it outside, cum outside, please!” She pushes your hand away and looks at Jessica for help but is lost in her own pleasure.

“Sorry, but your sister gave me the green light.”

”Stop! Don’t cum inside me, please. I don’t…”

Krystal’s eyes widens, and she coughs aggressively as she’s suddenly stabbed with your massive cock.

“Maybe getting your womb filled with cum will turn you down a notch.”

A wave of cum flows into Krystal’s womb. It’s her first time tasting cum without protection. An overwhelming amount of thoughts are running through her mind. She’s trying so hard to prevent any problems and made her ex-boyfriend wear protection during sex just so she could get forced creampied by you.

She imagines the worst-case scenario: her getting impregnated by you just like you did her older sister. That would be the end of her career.

“It’s over; my life is ruined,” says Krystal as she passes out from shock.

———-

Krystal wakes up much later and sees her sister riding you. Her expression is one of a wild woman losing herself in heavenly pleasure.

“You came so much inside my sister; you might have impregnated her, you know.”

”Haha, jealous?”

”No, I just don't know what my parents are going to say about that.”

”Let time tell, but I wouldn't mind seeing two sisters have my child.”

Krystal stays hidden from the both of you, only to fall back to sleep with your cum inside her womb.

#kpop smut #male reader #the company series #the company #TM smut #jessica jung smut #snsd jessica smut #snsd jessica #jung jessica #krystal jung #Krystal smut #girl idol smut #kpop idol smut #idol x reader #idol smut #girls generation smut #smut reader #snsd smut

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago

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I Hate It When You're Drunk - 1

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A short love story between a princess and her bodyguard, where their love is forbidden.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Alcohol.

Bucky didn't hate it. In fact, he drank it himself, though he never indulged to the point of blacking out. What he truly hated was receiving the inevitable call that began with, “She’s drunk again.”

With a weary sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and replied, “Bring her home.”

Standing at the entrance, he watched as three black SUV cars approached. The middle car, he knew, was the most important—it carried one of the country's most influential figures. A princess.

When the car door opened, a suited man approached Bucky. “She only allows you to carry her,” he said.

Bucky nodded and stepped closer. Inside the car, he saw a beautiful woman, half-asleep, the scent of alcohol clinging to her. It didn’t bother him.

Gently, he touched your shoulder. “Your Highness, you’ve arrived.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you smiled drowsily at the sight of your favorite person. “I’m so happy today,” you murmured. You had been out drinking with your friends.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky said softly. He already knew because he had seen the pictures and had taken swift action to erase them from the internet. He couldn't let your image be tarnished.

As the princess of Veridian, any image of you being drunk and acting silly could ruin the kingdom's reputation.

You reached out your hands toward Bucky. “Carry me.”

The other guards exchanged glances, dumbfounded, even though they had witnessed this scene several times before. Despite knowing Bucky since childhood—his father was the head of security at the castle—did it really have to be this intimate?

Bucky chuckled at your childish request. He indulged you, lifting you gently and carrying you like a princess to your room. Being in his arms was your safest place.

Arriving at your room, he gently laid you on your bed. The other servants, accustomed to this routine, had already prepared everything and discreetly left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

Bucky brushed a strand of hair from your face and tucked you in, making sure you were comfortable.

He wiped your face and hands with a warm cloth, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. He looked at you lovingly, a soft smile on his lips. Then he felt something wrap around his waist. It was your hands. You moved closer and rested your head against his stomach, whispering, “Let’s run away.”

Bucky sighed, his heart aching. “We can’t,” he replied.

“I don’t care,” you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lied because, deep down, he loved the idea. But he knew his place. He was just a bodyguard who had grown up alongside you, a princess.

You didn’t want to be separated from him. But you were terrified of your father, the tyrant king, who had forbidden your union. The only man you ever loved was out of reach because of royal decree.

In desperation, you had once given your father an ultimatum, “Let me marry Bucky, or I will never marry.”

You hadn't expected his response, “Never marry, then. If you run away with him, I will kill him.”

Those words haunted you. The tyrant king’s threat loomed large, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bucky. Yet, you were trapped in a gilded cage, unable to be with the one you loved.

That’s why you turned to drinking. The numbness of alcohol allowed you to escape your harsh reality, if only for a while. In your drunken fantasies, you and Bucky lived a simple life, with a house surrounded by a white picket fence, building a family together.

In that fantasy, you found solace. But even in your dreams, tears slipped from your eyes, betraying the sorrow you couldn’t escape.

Bucky always noticed your tears. It pained him to see you drowning in sorrow, unable to change your fate.

This was why he hated it when you got drunk. Because in those moments, you cried over your impossible love, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

You were a princess, and he was just a bodyguard.

As he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his fingers, he leaned closer and rested beside you. “I’ll always be by your side,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.

You clung to him, seeking comfort in his presence, even if it was all you could have. He watched over you as you slept, his heart heavy with unfulfilled dreams and the cruel reality that kept you apart.

But at this moment, at least, he could offer you the comfort of his presence, which would have to be enough for now.

Author Note: Should I continue this as a series?

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joelsrose · 1 month ago

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Guns & Roses

previous chapter

Chapter 2:

After your tense exchange with Joel, his venomous words hit hard, leaving you taken aback by a sudden wave of insecurity—feelings you thought you had long moved past. Sensing this, Joel begins to question his own actions, unsure of the impact his words have had on you, but the tension between you remains unresolved as you both navigate the emotional distance that continues to grow, unsure of how to bridge the widening gap.

TW: depressive/anxious themes related to emotional abusive/traumatic previous relationships, also this is a slow burn yall so plss be patient i know i want them to be in love right neoowww but first they have to hate each other xxx Also let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list x

The next morning, you lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, your limbs weighed down by exhaustion, but the heaviness in your chest was far worse. Patrol was in an hour, but the thought of moving—of facing the day, of facing him again—felt impossible.

Yesterday had been a disaster—worse than you could have imagined. It wasn’t just that you had nearly died, although that should’ve been enough.

It was Joel—his words.

The way they had sliced through the air, cold and brutal, landing like a blade straight to your chest. You could still hear his voice echoing in your mind, sharp and biting.

“Fucking burden.”

It wasn’t just the insult—it was the way the words felt like something you’d heard before. The familiarity of it. Hearing it brought back memories you’d fought hard to bury. Memories of another time, another voice—his voice, saying the same thing, over and over.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the flood of memories to stop, but it was no use. They slipped through the cracks of your defenses, no matter how hard you tried to push them away. You thought you had buried those moments, locked them up where they couldn’t touch you anymore. But Joel’s words had torn those scars wide open, and now they were bleeding again.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been called a burden. That word had haunted you for years, ever since him—the one who had made you feel small, insignificant.

You had spent years trapped in a relationship where every step you took was wrong, every emotion too much, every need a flaw. He made you feel like a weight around his neck, dragging him down, and every argument ended with him reminding you that you were too needy, too sensitive, too flawed.

A burden.

You believed him. For years, you let those words become your truth. Everything wrong in your life was your fault, and the idea of being loved felt so far out of reach that you stopped hoping for it. Even when you finally found the strength to leave, the damage had already been done. The lies he had planted in your mind were like weeds, tangled in your thoughts, impossible to fully uproot.

Brick by brick, you rebuilt yourself after walking away. You told yourself you were stronger now, that no one would tear you down like that again.

But Joel’s words—delivered with such cold finality—had brought it all crashing down. It was as though he had reached inside and ripped out the deepest, darkest insecurity you had tried so hard to keep hidden.

You tossed and turned, the memory of every moment, every word, replaying on a loop. The way he had looked at you, the anger in his voice, the disgust. It hurt more than it should have, more than you wanted it to. But the truth was, Joel had unknowingly triggered something much deeper.

You curled deeper into the blankets, pulling them tight around you as if they could shield you from the weight of your own thoughts. You weren’t just sad—you were spiraling. Slowly sinking into a pit of doubt, worthlessness creeping back in like poison, the same way it had years ago.

Because the truth was, you had never fully healed. You had put bandages on the wounds, told yourself you were fine, but you had never truly faced the scars. And now, they were unraveling. You blinked up at the ceiling, wondering if you would ever truly escape this feeling—this heavy, suffocating belief that you were always going to be too much. Too much for the people in your life. Too much for anyone to really love, to want.

And Joel? He probably didn’t even care. To him, it was just another day. Another patrol. He’d probably be glad if you called out sick. Glad not to have to deal with you at all.

You thought back to last night, Tommy had come by, knocking gently on your door, his usual wide smile in place.

“How’d patrol go?” he asked, his voice full of warmth, his eyes bright with that familiar, unshakable optimism.

You lied. The words slipped out before you could even think twice.

“It was fine. Nothing much happened.” You even forced a smile, adding something trivial about the snow getting heavier. And Tommy, being Tommy—trusting, kind, always believing the best—had smiled right back. He gave your shoulder a light pat, that easy grin spreading across his face. “Good,” he’d said, clearly relieved. And then he left, looking so genuinely happy that it twisted something deep inside you.

The guilt of lying to him weighed heavily in your chest. But how could you have told him the truth? How could you have explained what had really happened out there with Joel? The things you had both said still lingered in the air, unspoken but present in every breath you took. You couldn’t admit that the person Tommy looked up to—his own brother—had made you feel like nothing, like something broken and worthless.

So you kept the truth buried, hidden behind that forced smile, letting Tommy walk away, blissfully unaware of the weight that had settled on your shoulders. You told yourself it was better this way. Less messy.

Now, as you dragged yourself out of bed, pulling on your patrol gear, you couldn’t shake the sense of dread clinging to you like a second skin. You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your jacket, wondering if you were making a mistake by going. The tension between you and Joel was thick, palpable, and the thought of spending another second with him made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

But you swallowed it down— the hollow ache in your chest—and forced yourself to leave the house. You told yourself you could get through this day. One foot in front of the other. That’s all you had to do.

•••

The snow was heavier today, thick flakes falling in a relentless flurry, blurring the world into a monochrome haze. It seemed to swallow everything—your surroundings, your thoughts—leaving behind a cold, biting quiet as you trudged toward Joel. The wind was sharp, stinging your skin as you walked, your mind racing with everything that had been left unsaid the day before.

When you finally saw him, standing by his horse, the same hard expression etched across his face, it was as if yesterday had bled straight into today. Nothing had changed. The tension between you was suffocating, thick like the snow that blurred the edges of your vision.

Joel didn’t acknowledge you. Not with a nod, not with a word, just the stiff set of his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His whole posture was guarded, closed-off, as if he were bracing himself against more than just the cold. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything either, your pride weighing down every word you considered. Instead, you mounted your horse and set off, the only sounds the crunch of snow beneath the hooves and the distant howl of the wind.

The cold words from yesterday still hovered between you like a storm cloud, dark and ominous. You thought, for a fleeting moment, about breaking the silence, about reaching across the vast space that had grown between you. But every time you opened your mouth, the weight of your own pride, your hurt, held you back.

And Joel? He seemed just as unwilling. His eyes stayed fixed ahead, his body tense, his lips set in a grim line.

Hours passed as you patrolled deeper into the woods, scanning the treeline for any signs of movement. The snow fell heavier and faster, the wind picking up as it screamed through the trees, the world around you shrinking into a blur of white. By midday, it had grown too much—the path ahead was barely visible, the storm swallowing it whole, the danger in pushing forward palpable.

Joel finally broke the silence, his voice rough and barely audible over the howl of the wind. “We need to stop.” His eyes flicked toward the horizon, where the dark silhouettes of trees loomed through the snow, distant and unreachable. “There’s no way we’re making it any further in this.”

His voice, though low, felt like it shattered the heavy quiet that had hung between you all morning. For a second, you met his gaze, the intensity there catching you off guard. It wasn’t just the storm or the danger—it was everything that had been simmering beneath the surface. Everything unsaid. But just as quickly, he looked away, his eyes scanning the snow, the moment slipping away as fast as it had come.

You nodded silently, following Joel’s lead as he steered the horses toward the nearest shelter you could find—a small, weather-beaten outpost nestled at the base of the mountain.

The cabin looked forgotten by time, its roof sagging under the weight of heavy snow, but it was better than freezing to death in the open. The two of you dismounted, still wrapped in the oppressive quiet that had grown between you, tying up the horses in a practiced silence before heading inside. The sudden stillness of the enclosed space was a small mercy, a temporary reprieve from the biting wind.

Inside, it was cramped, the air thick with the stale scent of damp wood and long-forgotten memories. The cabin was barely holding itself together, but at least it was shelter.

The cabin was freezing, the cold seeping into every corner, making the walls feel like they were closing in. You glanced at the fireplace, its hearth blackened from years of neglect, a thick layer of dust coating the stone.

You muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to Joel, "I’m gonna go look for something to light a fire."

Joel didn’t respond. You heard the low groan of the ancient couch as he sat down heavily, the springs creaking under his weight. The fabric was threadbare, worn thin by time and disuse, much like the rest of the cabin. He rubbed his shoulder, his face twisted in discomfort for a brief moment before settling back into his usual unreadable expression. His jaw was clenched, muscles tense, his whole posture tight and closed-off, as if he were bracing himself against more than just the cold.

You glanced at him briefly, your eyes catching on the lines of tension in his face, the way his hands flexed against his knees. But you didn’t linger on it. Joel was always like this—guarded, closed-off, like he was constantly holding something back.

You turned away, letting your eyes scan the small, dilapidated cabin around you. The place had clearly been abandoned for years, and it showed. Broken furniture was shoved into corners, splintered chairs piled against one wall, and shelves sagged under the weight of old, forgotten items that hadn’t been touched in decades. Dust clung to everything like a blanket, thick and undisturbed, the kind of dust that only settles when time forgets.

You ran your fingers absentmindedly across the surface of a rickety table, leaving a streak in the grime. The cold air from outside seemed to have seeped into the very bones of the cabin, giving it a lifeless, hollow feel.

As you rummaged through a crate in the corner, looking for anything useful—something to light a fire, something to stave off the cold—you could hear Joel outside. He had decided to check the area around the cabin, muttering something about seeing if there were any supplies worth bringing back. Old medicine, tools, anything that might have been left behind by whoever last used this place. His heavy footsteps crunched through the snow, fading in and out as the wind howled around the cabin.

You pulled out a few pieces of old, dry wood from the crate, hoping they’d be enough to start a decent fire. A few minutes passed, and you heard Joel's footsteps return. The door creaked open as he stepped inside, bringing with him a blast of cold air.

He grunted, clearly frustrated, as he dropped something heavy onto the floor—a bag or maybe a crate, you weren’t sure. You glanced up briefly, watching as he walked toward an old cupboard in the corner.

“Anything?” you asked, keeping your tone neutral, but there was no answer. Joel was already focused on the cupboard, tugging at the stubborn door, his expression set in that familiar, determined way.

You turned back to the crate, rummaging deeper when suddenly, a loud crash echoed behind you, making you flinch.

“Fucking hell!” Joel’s voice followed, sharp and filled with pain.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you spun around, eyes wide. Joel stood hunched near the cupboard, his body tense, one hand pressed tightly to his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers, dark and thick, dripping onto the wooden floor below in a slow, menacing rhythm. The cupboard door hung askew, a jagged shard of glass sticking out from where the door had broken. He must have accidentally shattered it when trying to open it.

“Jesus Christ, what happened?” you rushed toward him, panic rising in your chest. Joel grimaced, his face pale, sweat beading on his brow from the pain.

“It’s nothing,” he bit out through gritted teeth, his voice taut with a mix of irritation and discomfort.

“It’s not nothing, Joel—you’re bleeding,” you replied, your eyes widening as you stepped closer, heart racing. He was leaving a trail of crimson, blood spilling from his hand and staining the floor, a stark contrast to the muted tones of the cabin.

“Just cut myself on the damn glass,” he muttered, his other hand pressed tightly to his chest, trying to staunch the flow. The shallow rise and fall of his breath spoke volumes; he was in more pain than he wanted to admit.

“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing toward the old couch, but Joel shot you a hard look, his eyes narrowing in defiance.

“I don’t need to sit,” he snapped, attempting to step away from you, the stubbornness radiating off him like a palpable force. His body was tense, coiled like a spring, and you could see he was resisting the pain, unwilling to admit he needed help.

You stood your ground, planting yourself in front of him. “You’re bleeding all over the place, Joel. Sit down. Now.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, it felt like a standoff. But you refused to back down. His irritation flickered in his eyes, but eventually, he relented with an exasperated grunt, sinking back onto the couch with a wince, the weariness in his posture finally giving way.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and quickly pulled your first aid kit from your pack. Taking a seat next to him, you reached for his hand, but Joel recoiled again, trying to pull it back.

“I can handle it,” he growled, the edge of his voice betraying his discomfort.

You shot him a fierce look, refusing to let his bravado intimidate you. “Can you not be so stubborn for once?”

For a heartbeat, his gaze flickered to yours, something unspoken lingering in the air between you. Finally, he relented, holding his hand out toward you. “Fine,” he muttered, though the annoyance in his tone still hung heavy. “But make it quick.”

You wasted no time, gently pulling his hand forward. His fingers were calloused and rough, the result of years of hard work and struggle, a testament to the life he led.

The cut was nasty—glass had sliced deep, leaving a gash that continued to ooze blood. You pressed a cloth against it, trying to stop the flow.

“Shit,” you muttered, your heart racing as you examined the injury. “I need to suture this,” you mumbled.

Joel shook his head, his face hardening once more. “Like hell you are,” he growled, attempting to retreat again, but you tightened your grip, refusing to let him pull away.

“What, you’d rather let it get infected and fall off?” you shot back, your voice rising slightly in frustration. “Just let me do this, Joel.”

The intensity in his gaze flared for a moment—anger, maybe, but beneath it, there was something softer, a flicker of vulnerability. He seemed to weigh his options before finally relenting. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You grabbed a bottle of alcohol from your kit, and without warning, began to clean the wound. The moment the liquid touched the raw flesh, Joel hissed sharply, his body tensing as a stream of curses left his mouth.

“Jesus Christ!” he swore, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep still.

“Sorry,” you muttered, though you didn’t slow down. “But it needs to be disinfected.” You worked quickly, trying to focus despite the tension radiating from him.

With deft hands, you cleaned the wound, your fingers steady even as your heart pounded in your chest. The needle slipped between your fingers like second nature, but the closeness between you both felt anything but routine. Knees brushing, neither of you dared to move, the tension crackling between you. His scent, earthy and warm, mingled with the faint trace of sweat, filled your senses, stirring something. Heat rolled off him, maker it harder to concentrate.

As you worked, Joel sat still, his jaw clenched tightly against the discomfort. The tension in the room was thick. You glanced up at him briefly, catching his gaze as you focused on stitching the cut. There was an intensity there, a flicker of something deeper than just pain.

“Just breathe,” you murmured, trying to keep the mood light despite the weight of everything unsaid. You concentrated on your task, the delicate movements of the needle requiring your full attention, but every time you looked up, Joel’s eyes were fixed on you, filled with an intensity you hadn't seen before.

When you tied off the final stitch, a wave of relief washed over you. “There,” you murmured, gently wiping away the last traces of blood. “That should hold. Just try not to move too much,” you added, pressing a bandage over the wound, your fingers lingering for just a moment longer than they should have.

Joel didn’t respond right away, his eyes darting anywhere but toward you, as if the weight of the moment was too much to confront. Finally, he released a slow, ragged breath. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, the single word laden with all the things left unsaid.

You nodded, feeling the weight of the silence settle between you again, heavier this time.

•••

You stayed in the cabin for hours longer, the silence between you and Joel stretching out like an invisible barrier, thick and unspoken. Neither of you had spoken since you’d tended to his hand, but this time, the silence wasn’t charged with anger or frustration.

Instead, it filled you with something much heavier—an aching sadness that settled deep in your chest.

You weren’t sure when it began, but as you sat there, watching the snow fall outside, your mind drifted back to the words Joel had spat at you the day before. The weight of them, the way they had pierced something tender inside you, was impossible to shake. They had stirred up feelings you thought you’d buried—the same feelings that had kept you awake last night, thoughts you couldn't push away no matter how hard you tried. Now, as you stared at the endless white landscape beyond the cabin walls, you felt stuck in that spiral again.

You’d been here before, trapped in a loop of doubt and self-loathing, questioning your worth, your place in this world. Joel’s words had pulled it all back to the surface, like ripping open an old wound that had never truly healed. The silence in the cabin only amplified those thoughts, the quiet making the weight of them impossible to ignore.

You didn’t even notice when Joel spoke.

"Seems like the snow’s died down. We should get going." His voice broke through the fog of your thoughts.

It was rough, as usual, but there was something different this time—something softer, almost cautious, like he knew the air between you had shifted and wasn’t sure how to navigate it.

You wiped at your cheek, suddenly aware of the tear that had slipped down your face without you realizing.

The sadness that had been pressing down on you felt too heavy to carry now, like it had become too much all at once. You nodded, your voice barely audible as you replied, “Yeah… let’s go.”

For a brief moment, you caught Joel’s gaze. His brows furrowed, his eyes searching your face like he was trying to read something there, something more than the tear. Maybe he saw the pain you were carrying, maybe he didn’t. But for a fleeting second, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. A hesitation. And then, just as quickly, it was gone. The wall came back up, his expression unreadable once more.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and stood, gathering your things with a sigh that felt like it came from the deepest part of you. The exhaustion wasn’t just from the cold or the events of the day—it was from the constant battle you were fighting inside yourself. And in that moment, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it up.

The journey back to Jackson was cold and quiet, the only sound between you the steady crunch of snow beneath the horses' hooves. The storm had passed, leaving the world around you still and blanketed in white, as if the entire landscape had been frozen in time.

The ride felt long, each minute dragging on, the cold biting at your skin as the wind whipped through the trees. All you could think about was getting home, sinking into the warmth of your bed, and shutting out the world.

The silence between you and Joel made the journey feel even longer, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on your shoulders.

Your mind wandered back to the cabin—Joel on the couch, the tension in his face as you tended to his wound. You wondered if he even knew what his words had done to you. At the end of the day, he shouldn’t have said what he did—that much was clear. But deep down, you knew he hadn’t meant for it to cut this deep. He couldn’t have known the depth of the pain his words would unearth, the way they’d pull you back into a spiral of doubt and self-loathing.

When you reached the stables, the familiar routine of tending to your horse became a lifeline, a small anchor in the swirling storm of emotions. The simple motions—loosening the saddle, brushing down the coat—gave your hands something to do, something to hold onto.

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, the unspoken weight of his gaze making your skin prickle. Embarrassment washed over you, creeping up your neck and settling in your chest. He had seen you cry in the cabin, had watched that tear slip down your cheek—and it was enough. That single moment of vulnerability felt like too much, like you had exposed a part of yourself you hadn’t meant to.

You didn’t wait for Joel, even though his presence lingered close by, the soft sounds of his movements cutting through the still air. You could’ve asked how his hand was, could’ve wished him goodnight, maybe even walked home together—it would’ve made sense, living on the same street and all.

Instead, you gathered your things, the silence swallowing the unspoken words as your boots crunched against the snow. Without a backward glance, you walked away, your breath clouding in the cold air, leaving behind nothing but the imprint of your footsteps.

What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t have known, was the way Joel’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away. His gaze followed your every step, his expression unreadable, though shadowed by something heavier, something that settled deep in his chest and refused to loosen its grip.

He didn’t call after you, didn’t ask you to wait, even though the words itched at the back of his throat.

Instead, he stood there in silence, watching as you disappeared into the night, your figure swallowed by the darkness and snow.

And in that quiet, as the cold wrapped around him, he felt it—the guilt gnawing at him, the weight of his own words hanging heavy in the air between you. He’d seen the way you’d changed after he said it, the way something in you had pulled back, retreated, and now the regret settled in like a second skin.

It wasn’t just the bite of the wind that cut into him—it was the sharp sting of realizing what he’d done, and that he couldn’t take it back.

•••

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