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White Tiles: Ear tag
Relationships: Crosshair & Wrecker
Content Warnings: Child Abuse, Dehumanization
Summary:
How Crosshair got his ear tag.
Part of my TBB Selkie au. Wrecker is 4, Crosshair 2.
Word count: 1,393
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Chapter Text
03 wakes to footsteps. Not outside of the enclosure, no, they sound too close. There are people in the enclosure.
Cracking his eyes open, 03 pushes himself onto his elbows and looks up. Towering over him and 04 are four guards and a doctor. 03 can't help the small whimper that leaves his lips. This can't mean anything good.
The guards are dressed in dark clothing like they always are, bearing the lab's logo on their chest. Some have things called tasers, others these long sticks attached to their belts. Both of those things are only used when 03's being especially bad, but they still scare him. Any moment, he could slip up, do something wrong, and the guards will take them out. 03 extends his arm, putting it over 04's waking form.
The small selkie in question makes a little inquisitive noise, mumbling a selkie word 03 doesn't know. He tries to move closer to 03, only to startle and hiss when he spots the humans. 04 bares his teeth, moving to hide behind 03, hands rested on the walrus selkie's shoulders.
“What do you need?” 03 asks, standing up whilst covering 04. He knows 04's scared of the humans, more than 03 could ever be. He keeps his voice polite and doesn't raise it. He doesn't want to cause any problems.
“Nothing from you, little beast,” one of the guards hisses, raising his hand. 03 braces, ready to be struck. That only makes the guard laugh. “Were here for the runt.”
03 doesn't know what that word is, but guesses they mean 04.
“Is- Is he in trouble?” 03 asks, wringing his hands. 04 gets in a lot of trouble because he's scared and he bites. Just a few days ago some guards came and punished him. 04 was screaming and crying the whole time, and 03 was just ordered to sit there through his pelt. He almost started crying too, even if he wasn't being hurt.
When the guards finally left, they'd left big, dark bruises on the outside of 04's legs, making it impossible for him to sleep on his side like he usually does. 04 barely let go of 03 for the rest of the day, clinging to him constantly. 03 couldn't really do anything to help but hold 04.
If they're here to hurt 04 again, 03's going to beg them to punish him instead. At the very least, 03 hopes they'll let him take part of the beating. 04's still healing and he deserves a break. He's only little after all.
“No,” the doctor says, stepping forwards. 03 almost sighs. The doctor motions for 03 to get out of the way, addressing 04. “It's your lucky day kid, you're getting tagged,” she smirks, pulling a fanged tool from her pocket. 03's seen it before and it's vicious teeth. It's what put the tag in his ear.
04 growls, snapping his teeth as the humans circle them. 03 tries to calm him before the guards decide he needs to be hit. 04 has to get an ear tag, just like 03 did. They need them so Hemlock can always recognize them, just like the brand. It only hurts for a moment, and then it's fine if you don' touch the tag whilst it heals.
But before 03 can even try to fully communicate even half of that, a guard grabs him by the back of his neoprene shirt and throws 03 to the side. 03's not proud of the little yelp that leaves him when he lands hard on his hip, but he can't stop it from leaving his mouth.
“Get out of the way,” the guard hisses, pointing to the taser at her hip as a threat. 03 curls in on himself, both from the lingering ache from the impact, as well as the fear of the guards.
04 is distraught by 03 being removed from him, emitting a loud distress call and lurching after him, only to be grabbed by the guards and pinned to the floor. 03 sits there, wringing his hands as he watches 04 being subdued, being unable to do anything.
Then, a guard more to the back of the group holds 04's white pelt aloft and commands him to go still. All the fight immediately leaves 04's body as he goes limp. His head rests on the tiles, turned in 03's direction. Tears are running down 04's face as the command forces him to lay motionless.
“03,” he gets out, not having been told to be quiet as well. 04 can't say “three” that well yet, but 03 understands him. He's been slow to talk, saying few words in selkie, and even fewer in English. He knows things like “yes” “no” and “hurts” though, and he's learning more and more.
“It'll be okay, baby,” 03 says softly, reaching forward only to retract the hand quickly as he remembers what heavy boots the guards wear
“Shut up,” the doctor hisses in 03's direction, “both of you!”
04 is quickly ordered to do so with his pelt and so is 03 only moments later. The tug in his chest is uncomfortable, but 03 is used to it by now. It's not as bad as the feeling of being without his pelt for too long. That's probably the worst pain 03's ever felt.
The doctor pins 04 with one of her knees, resting the other on the floor beside him, muttering something about getting her trousers wet as she preps the scary tool. 04's eyes are wide, pupils trying desperately to angle up enough to see what's happening with the doctor looming over him. Once the tag is in the tool, the doctor brings her gloved hand down to 04's ear, feeling the skin there. Then she places the tool so its jaw wraps around the lower part of 04's ear.
03 doesn't want to watch, wants to force himself to look away but he can't. He knows this has to happen, that all selkies that belong to Hemlock need an ear tag. That's just how things are. But that doesn't mean 03 wants to watch his new friend suffer.
It feels like an eternity as 03 watches the doctor adjust her grip on the tool, checking the placement of it. Then, with a loud click, it's all over in seconds.
If 04 weren't ordered to be silent, 03 knows he would scream. Silent tears streak his face as his eyes seem to widen further.
The guards start to remove themselves and the orders the selkies were given are dissolved. 04 starts hissing and spitting as he crawls away from the humans, a shaky sob leaving him as he trembles. None of the humans react, except for two of the guards laughing at 04. That makes 03 angry, more than he should ever allow himself to be towards humans, but he can't help it. They shouldn't make fun of 04, it's mean.
03's frozen in place for a little while longer, watching the guards leave. He's interrupted by small, pained whines from 03, who's tugging at the fresh tag in his ear. 03 rushes to his side, taking the young selkies hands in his.
“No, no, you have to leave it 04! If you pull it out, it will hurt,” 03 speaks softly, shaking his head. “You need it anyway.”
Pulling his crying friend closer, 03 carefully looks at his ear. The tag's still perfectly in place, even if a little blood has spilled around the plastic. It has 04 written on it.
“Look, we match now!” 03 exclaims, trying to distract 04 as he points at his ear. 04 sniffles, wiping at his face before slowly reaching for 03's tag and touching it.
“03,” he says, then flops forward against 03's chest. He does so with the side of his head with the tag first, hissing and switching sides before settling fully. After a moment of silence filled only by quiet crying, 04 speaks again. “Hurts,” he says, trying to crawl closer to 03.
The walrus selkie can't tell if he only means the tag or is referring to the bruises on his legs too. Either way, 03 can only think of one thing to say in response.
“It will be over soon,” 03 says, wrapping his arms around 04 a little tighter.
#tbb#tbb wrecker#tbb crosshair#crosshair & wrecker#the bad batch#tbb fanfic#my writing#tbb selkie au#If anyone has questions or suggestions for things I could write in this au pleas tell me!#If it fits into the story I'd love to write your ideas!
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no because imagine their reactions when genshin dads felt their baby kick for the first time, i'd be crying imagine the 'i made this' or 'omgomgomgomg' reactions
no because i had to write it. thanks anon ♡♡
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒
and they feel their babies kicks for the first time.
pairing: dad & husband! alhaitham, cyno, kaveh, kaedehara kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley + heizou x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnant reader. use of endearment names; arabic, japanese, farsi & french terms. approximately 4.1k words. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
ALHAITHAM
The first time you and your husband felt your baby moving was in the comfort of your home. The soft glow radiating from the fireplace cast swirling shadows on the walls, highlighting the warm and inviting space. You and Alhaitham were snuggled comfortably in your favorite reading nook—an old leather armchair adorned with pillows and a thick-knitted blanket. You made yourself comfortable in his lap, with your back resting against his chest, while one of your husband's muscular arms cradled you tenderly.
As reading was a crucial part in your married life, every night you and Alhaitham found yourselves sharing stories. This time, you narrated aloud an ancient legend to Alhaitham and the baby in your womb. The tale’s language, despite being dead and little known, was not foreign to him. In fact, the scribe delighted in the tales whispered in your serene and melodic voice.
“According to the desert dwellers, the world was once ruled by a king named Al-Ahmar,” you began, your tone carrying a sense of mystery, “a king of warriors, horticulturists, and sages. He controlled the winds that whistled through the desert, the dunes turned bright silver by the moonlight, and the thousand and one Jinn that hid in the night and the calls of owls.”
Although he already knew the story very well, Alhaitham listened to you attentively—the subtle glow of affection in his eyes watching you lovingly as his thumb traced circles on your waist in a comforting gesture.
As your voice continued to flow, a subtle yet distinct vibration occurred within your being, making you pause reading for a moment. Your eyes widened in surprise as the realization hit you, drawing a loud sigh from you.
“‘Haitham,” you said, voice shaking slightly with emotion, “I think… I think the baby just moved.”
Your husband's eyes widened briefly before a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He placed a hand on your belly and his baby's little feet stretching your skin were felt under his palm. It was a feeling that filled him with warmth, love, and joy.
“It's the first time?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper and his warm hand still under your belly.
You nodded, your eyes shining in pure happiness. “Yes, it is.”
Alhaitham's smile widened, and he gently stroked your belly with a reverent touch. “It’s extraordinary,” he said softly. “Our little one is already making his presence known.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, and together, you savored the intimate moment. The book remained forgotten for now, overshadowed by the miraculous reality you were experiencing.
In the peaceful comfort of your home, surrounded by the warmth of love and the promise of the future, you shared a precious moment of connection that would be treasured forever.
CYNO
The soft, golden light of twilight filtered through the trees of the Avidya Forest as Cyno and you walked back home after a visit to Tighnari.
Although the forest guard was against the idea of seeing his very pregnant friend moving excessively and unnecessarily across the Sumerian plains, Tighnari knew that going against your stubbornness was a losing battle. Therefore, he ended up welcoming both you and your husband warmly into his dwelling.
When you finally said goodbye after a day full of conversations and delicacies cooked by Collei, the birds were already back in their nests, and the serene environment of the forest was a welcome backdrop—although Cyno could see the exhaustion etched into your face. The weight of your growing babies seemed to be taking an increasing toll.
Cyno supported you as you walked, his arm around your waist. “You look tired. Let’s take it slow,” he said gently.
You nodded, your hand resting on your stomach. “It's just... The twins' weight is a little overwhelming today. I’m more fatigued than I expected.”
You walked slowly for a few more minutes until you arrived at an abandoned cabin nestled in the heart of the forest. Cyno helped you inside, guiding you to a comfortable seat by the window, where the soft light of the setting sun bathed the empty room in a warm glow.
As you settled into the chair, you shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a more relaxing position, although all you got in response was a dull pain shooting down your spine. A resigned sigh left your lips as you just accepted the situation you were in and waited for the discomfort to pass.
It was when your husband left the room to get something that could help with your relief that you felt a strange, soft vibration in your belly. It was as if butterflies were swirling inside you, bringing you a feeling of strangeness but delight. When you realized what it was really about, your eyes widened in surprise.
“What's the matter? Something wrong?” Cyno asks with concern visible in his expression.
“I think the babies are moving.”
Cyno’s face immediately lit up in excitement, and he approached you, kneeling in your front. His hands were hesitant to touch your stomach and he looked at you. “Can I...?” he asked softly.
You smiled widely and nodded, placing his hand on the spot where you felt the movement. “Of course you can, hayati. You should be able to feel them now.”
Cyno closed his eyes briefly as he felt the small kicks and rhythmic changes beneath his palm. His expression softened into one of admiration and tenderness. “This is incredible,” he murmured. “They are already so active.”
“Tell me about it,” you say with a slight chuckle, “Now it is explained why I’ve been going to the toilet so much the last few days. These little jackals have been squeezing my poor bladder.”
Cyno laughs along with you. However, his eyes were still mesmerized by your belly, his hands lovingly following his children's movements.
At that moment, the world around Cyno didn't seem to exist. It was just him, you, and your babies. You shared a quiet, intimate moment, your connection with your unborn children deepening. The forest outside was peaceful, but inside the cabin, the air was filled with a palpable sense of joy and anticipation.
KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
The sun shone high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the peaceful meadow where Kazuha and his family were enjoying the day. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, their whispers blending harmoniously with the gentle melody of nature. Kazuha sat against a large oak tree with you resting your head in his lap, eyes closed in contentment.
Kazuha's fingers skillfully traced patterns on a windblown leaf, his serene expression a testament to his deep connection to the natural world. Your three-year-old son, Kazumi, ran around the field happily, his laughter mixing with the rustling of the grass as he played with a small wooden toy.
You, with your belly softly rounded with your second child, sighed softly—contentment evident in your relaxed posture. You placed your hands gently on your stomach, stroking it absently.
“I think she’s finally awake,” you murmured.
Kazuha's eyes softened as he looked at you. Until that day Kazuha had never witnessed his unborn daughter moving in your womb. The baby always seemed to be too sleepy to recognize her father's constant presence. “Is that so?”
Before you could nod, a precise kick hit the area above your navel. Your eyes widened at the force of the action, but an ironic laugh soon followed. “Absolutely. Looks like someone woke up to say hi to Papa.”
Kazuha's heart filled with an abundance of emotions. He carefully moved his hand to your belly feeling his little girl's rhythmic kicks. To him, the sensation was delicate, like the wings of a butterfly brushing his palm.
Kazumi, noticing that his parents seemed to be engrossed in something else, staggered towards you with wide curious eyes. He climbed into your thighs and his small hands also rested on your rounded belly. “What is it, ‘Kaa-chan?”
You smile gently, extending your hand to guide the boy's little ones to where the baby is moving. “It’s your little sister, Zumi. She’s saying hello.”
Kazumi's face lit up with wonder as he laid his head on his mother's belly, his little ears pressed against the gentle movements inside. His eyes widened in fascination as he felt the gentle, rhythmic kicks. “I can feel it! Kiki is saying hi!”
Kazuha watched the scene unfold with a soft smile, his heart full at seeing the pure excitement on Kazumi's face and the deep love in his wife's eyes. The night air was filled with peaceful harmony, his family united in this simple yet profound moment of connection and anticipation.
The sun continued to rise, bathing them in a warm, golden light that seemed to celebrate the new life they were eagerly awaiting. As Kazumi continued to listen to his sister's small movements, Kazuha gently brushed away his wife's hair, his pale fingers lingering on your cheek with a tender caress.
“I love you more than anything in this world. Thank you for making me the happiest and most complete man, my love.”
KAVEH
Kaveh stood in the middle of the room that would soon belong to his daughter, his eyes scanning every corner with a mix of determination and excitement. Samples of wallpaper, fabrics, and paint were scattered around him, along with sketches of various design ideas.
“I was thinking about using pastel colors,” he began, turning to you who was sitting in the only armchair in the empty room. “Soft tones of pink, yellow, and green. They are calming and will create a serene and peaceful environment for her. And look at this,” he took out a sample of fabric, holding it up for you to see and touch. It felt smooth against your fingers. “This is perfect for the curtains. It’s light and airy, and will let in just the right amount of sunlight.”
You watched him with a warm smile, allowing your husband to express his desires and thoughts openly, feeling your heart swell with love. “That sounds wonderful, azizam,” you add softly.
Kaveh continued, now walking a little and gesturing as he spoke. “I also want to incorporate some interactive elements. Maybe a mobile above her crib with small animals that move gently. Ah! And we could have a wall with different textures for her to explore as she grows. It’s important to stimulate her senses from an early age.”
As he spoke, you couldn't help but be amused by his reactions, also enjoying seeing this more relaxed yet excited side coming from him. Even though Kaveh considered your opinion as important as his ideas, you loved seeing the dedication the architect put into his designs—and when it came to something as intimate as creating his daughter's nursery, it was to be expected that his passion displayed twice as much.
As he spoke happily, you listened to him in tender silence, but there was a strange feeling bubbling up inside you that left you momentarily intrigued. You attributed it to tiredness, or even hunger, but you ignored it, not wanting to worry Kaveh for nothing, much less interrupting his monologue.
However, the vibration continued as constant, gentle but persistent movements below your navel, bringing you a slight feeling of alarm and surprise. When realization finally hit you, your breathing stopped and your hands immediately rested above your belly, feeling the movements more precisely.
“Kaveh,” you called him, your voice full of wonder.
He stopped mid-sentence and ran to your side seeing your static expression. “What? What’s happening? Are you feeling unwell?”
You shake your head, biting your lip in a futile attempt to contain your laughter. “I think she's moving. Our baby girl is moving!”
Kaveh's look went from worried to shocked in an instant, a wide smile opening soon after. He knelt down in front of you and gently placed his hands on your stomach. A light kick hit the area where his warm palm rested.
“Hello, little one,” he whispered. “Guess you’re as excited about your room as I am, huh?”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “She can already feel how much love you’re putting into this.”
Kaveh looked at you, his expression full of love and devotion. “I want her to know how much she means to us, from this moment until the very second she enters this world. Every detail in this room will be a reminder of that.”
You looked him in the eyes and smiled warmly. With some difficulty, you lean over and press a kiss to his lips to which he happily returns. “She's lucky to have a dad like you, Kaveh. And I am so grateful to have you by my side.”
He stood up and helped you do the same, quickly wrapping his arms around you right after. His head leaned against yours and you found yourself cradled in a hug filled with affection.
“We will be the best parents we can be, azizam. I promise.”
LYNEY
The soft glow of the night lanterns filled the room with a warm, golden light. The living room was filled with a pleasant mix of the smell of burning incense and the faint scent of fresh wool. Lyney was sitting at a small, ornate table, focused intently on a new magic trick involving his pyro vision. Flames danced gracefully around his hands as he wove them into intricate shapes, their flickering light casting playful shadows on the walls.
Opposite him, you made yourself comfortable on the couch, your pregnant belly prominent under your loose robe. You were diligently knitting a pair of socks, each stitch coming together with the precision of a well-trained hand. The rhythmic clicking of your needles provided a calming counterpoint to Lyney's fiery display.
Lyney's latest trick involved sending a small burst of flame through a series of arches suspended in the air. He was so absorbed in perfecting his performance that he barely noticed the absence of the knitting needles and the change in your expression.
Suddenly, you let out a loud sigh—a sigh filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Your hand instinctively rested on your belly, the intricate strands of wool quickly forgotten.
Lyney's concentration broke and he turned towards you with a start, dropping all his tools and heading towards your way. “Everything is fine, sweetheart? Did you get hurt? I knew I shouldn’t train at home!” he blurted out the words in a frenzy, his voice tinged with worry.
You looked at him with your eyes shining with emotion. Your husband became more and more exasperated.
“No no. That's not it. Quite the opposite actually,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “I can feel them moving!”
Lyney's eyes widened, a huge smile spreading across his face as he realized what you meant. His expression was excited, and he sit next to you. “For real? This is incredible, chérie!”
You nodded, your hand gently stroking your belly and Lyney's just above yours. “It’s such a strange and wonderful feeling. It's so subtle that it almost doesn't seem to be there. I never imagined it would be like this.”
As if they knew they now had the full attention of both parents, the babies lightly kicked the area above your navel, eliciting another excited smile from you and a look of admiration from your husband for being able to be part of such a beautiful and intimate moment for the first time. He would never admit it, but his purple irises sparkled with happy tears for a few seconds.
With a tender smile, you shared this serene feeling in silence. The room seemed to glow a little brighter as you sat together, your bond deepened by this new shared experience. Lyney leaned over, resting his head on yours, hands still resting on your belly feeling the slight vibrations there.
“How about we take a break from magic and knitting? Let’s just enjoy this moment together.”
You giggled softly, your heart warmed by his loving gesture. “That sounds perfect.”
NEUVILLETTE
In the calmness of Neuvillette's office, the dusk in the sky cast a warm light over all of Fontaine. Its golden and orange rays crossed through the windows of the room, creating a serene atmosphere.
Neuvillette sat behind his desk, his usual composed expression softening into one of gentle contentment as he leaned back in his chair. Opposite him, you sat comfortably in the armchair, one delicate hand resting on your growing belly and a cup of tea in the other.
The afternoon was calm, with only the faint hum of the city beyond the window in the background. Neuvillette looked at you with a warm smile touching his lips as he observed your relaxed posture. You were talking about your day, your voice carrying a gentle melody. Neuvillette listened intently, his eyes never straying too far from your face, enjoying the simple joy of your shared moments.
As you spoke, a subtle change occurred in your expression that didn’t go unnoticed by his sharp eyes. Your eyes widened slightly, and you placed a hand on your stomach, your fingers gently tracing its curve. Neuvillette immediately noticed the action and looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Is everything alright, mon amour?” he asked, his voice carrying a slight hint of alarm.
Your eyes glowed with a mixture of surprise and joy. “I think… I think Éveline just moved,” you respond, your voice shaking with emotion.
Neuvillette's eyes widened as well, and he quickly moved to your side, his hesitant but gentle hand covering yours on your belly. “May I?” he asked softly, his usual formality melting in the heat of the moment.
You nodded, your smile growing as you guided his hand to the right place. For a few seconds, you both just sat, your breaths mingling in the silent space. Then, Neuvillette felt it—a gentle vibration beneath his palm, a small movement that was both fleeting and profound. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.
“She’s already so active.”
A giggle escaped your lips. “Apparently yes. She’s letting us know she’ll be here as soon as we expect.”
Neuvillette took a deep breath, trying to savor the moment as his hand intertwined with yours. “I suppose this is one of those rare moments when words fail to capture the full depth of our feelings.”
“I couldn’t agree more, darling.”
WRIOTHESLEY
Wriothesley stood at the bedroom window, admiring the marine life outside, which was enjoying the sunlight reflected in the crystal-clear waters of the Fontaine's sea. He was already dressed in his usual attire, mentally preparing himself for another day of responsibilities at the Fortress or Meropide. Despite the weight of his duties, a small smile played on his lips as he listened to the sound of water running from the shower in the adjacent bathroom.
“Are you done, love?” he shouted, looking at the clock on the wall. “We have a council meeting in half an hour.”
Your voice floated back, warm and cheerful. “Give me two minutes, Wrio. I'm almost finishing.”
He shook his head, amused by your nonchalance. Even pregnant with your first child, you continued to be a pillar of strength and efficiency, working alongside him to keep the prison running smoothly. The thought of his unborn child brought a gentle warmth to his heart, a feeling he was still getting used to.
He began to organize some papers on his desk, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming meeting, when an abrupt, piercing scream crossed the air. Wriothesley's heart leaped into his throat, and he ran toward the door.
“Sweetheart, what happened? Did you get hurt?” his voice was full of panic as he walked in, expecting the worst.
Standing there in the shower, allowing the water to cascade over your naked body, your hands cradled your belly. Though your eyes were wide, there was no fear in them—just astonished joy.
“Everything is fine. I’m fine,” you reassured him, your voice shaking with emotion. “He kicked. The baby kicked for the first time.”
Relief washed over him, quickly replaced by a wave of wonder and joy. He helped you out of the shower and then pulled you into his embrace, not caring that he was getting wet due to your body that just came out of the shower. Gently, he placed his hand on your belly and waited a few seconds before he too could feel the slight movement under the curving skin.
“There he is,” he whispered, his expression melting in pure devotion. “Our son.”
You nodded, happy tears blurring your eyes. “Sigewinne said it was normal for some babies not to move in their mothers’ wombs, but I think he’s finally trying to say that he’s as eager to meet us as we are to meet him.”
Wriothesley leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to meet him too,” he said softly. “This is the best way to start a day.”
Your husband held you for a while longer, just reveling in your presence and the magical feeling of your unborn baby being present under the palm of his hand before he reluctantly pulled away.
“Although I'd like nothing else than stay here forever, we must dry and dress you. We have a meeting to attend and I want our little one to see how his mom looks like when she's doing what she does best.”
You waved in contagious joy. “Of course, Duke. As you wish.”
After a few more exchanges of caresses, you prepared for the day, your hearts excited for the new life growing. Fortitude may take a lot out of you, but moments like these remind you of the joy and love that made each challenge worth it.
BONUS
HEIZOU
Moonlight streamed in through the bedroom window, casting a soft, silvery glow over it. Heizou was lying comfortably behind his pregnant wife, his hand resting gently on your rounded belly. The room was quiet except for your steady breathing and the occasional rustling of the sheets.
Suddenly, the detective felt a slight movement under his hand. It was no wonder he was such a light sleeper given his job and all. And then, because he thought it was you constantly moving in your sleep, he chuckled softly, bringing you closer to his embrace. “Can't stay still, huh?”, he murmured playfully.
Feeling the same movement, you opened your eyes slightly and lightly pinched his thigh. “Stop poking my belly,” you mumble, still sleepy, “You know it tickles.”
Heizou smiled in the dim light. “I’m not poking you,” he replied, gently patting your belly. “Maybe you’re just dreaming.”
You sighed, momentarily awake, and turned to face him, narrowing your eyes in mock severity. “Oh, of course. Blame my dreams when you're always the one causing trouble.”
Heizou raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Causing problems? I would never do that.”
You stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, taking care that the loud sound of your voices didn't disturb anyone else's sleep.
When you were coming back to him with another bicker comment, another subtle movement appeared and interrupted your joking time. You caught your breath in surprise and placed your hand over your husband's, which was already resting on your belly.
“Did you feel that?”
Heizou's playful smile disappeared and was replaced by an expression of delight. “I did,” he replied, his voice now a mere whisper. “You think...?”
“It’s the baby,” you nodded, your eyes shining with joy. “Our little Ren is moving.”
Heizou's face lit up with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. “Well, it looks like our baby takes after me,” he said, his teasing tone returning. “It’s already causing a bit of confusion.”
You rolled your eyes but giggled, “Great, just what I needed—two troublemakers.”
Heizou leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “You love it,” he whispered, his eyes shining.
You rested a hand on his cheek, suddenly feeling a rush of warmth and love. "I do. I love you both."
You stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the shared joy of feeling the baby's first movements. “You know,” Heizou said thoughtfully, “if this is how our little one is right now, we might be in for some sleepless nights.”
You laughed a little louder this time.
“Well, I was already prepared for that. Besides, I have you by my side. So I think we will do very well.”
Heizou kissed you gently. “We will be the best team, my dear,” he promised.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#cyno#cyno x reader#kaveh#kaveh x reader#kaedehara kazuha#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha#kazuha x reader#shikanoin heizou#shikanoin heizou x reader#heizou#heizou x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#when they're dads#genshin husbands au#genshin dads au
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Hi!!!! Okay, first of all, I'm in love with your writing!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕And I was wondering (I've never done a story request so if it is horrible, please just ignore it 😅) but I was wondering if you could write a story of maybe yandereboyfriend/friend jungkook kinda forces older (not heaps but like 2-5 years older but shes just shy and confused when it comws to sex and intimacy) reader to loose her virginity to him and she likes it at the end?? If this is super uncomfortable, please don't even think about it 😅😶🌫️👉👈 or if you wanna do something completely different, I'd love your writing anyways!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕
hello! yes I can :) thank you for sending a request and being so patient! i feel like this yandere is more light than the usual lol
best friends!
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jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that wasn't him. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29 idol version
word count: 6.100
warning: naive/shy reader, mentions of watching porn, childhood friends jungkook + reader, smut scenes, coercion, masturbation, manipulation, light yandere tedancies, jealous jungkook, dub-con moments, dry humping, kissing, nipple sucking, oral sex, loss of virginity, rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering, unprotected sex, spitting,
“You’ll never be able to seduce a man, Noona.” Jungkook laughs boisterously, causing your face to heat up. “You’re just too shy.”
Jungkook’s eyes watch as your arms cross over your chest, any self-confidence you had slowly falling. He hums, turning over on his bed to face you. He then places a hand on your thigh. “Noona…”
“Stop calling me that, Jungkook.” you murmur. He knows that you prefer to be called by your name, but he’d often ignore you because of how much he enjoys teasing you, even after years of friendship.
“You’re upset with me.” says Jungkook.
“I’ve stopped calling you Kookie like you asked.”
Jungkook snorts. “That’s because the nickname doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m a man.” his hand squeezes your thigh. “Besides, I said stop calling me that in public. You and I are alone now.”
You and Jungkook have been friends since childhood, your father and his being great friends. The age difference never bothered you as much, and you’d often recall calling Jungkook your baby brother during his primary and middle school days - you having been homeschooled. It was when Jungkook grew in size and age and reached High School did he demand you stop calling him that but never gave a reason as to why.
Even now, as Jungkook and you are adults, the friendship remains. You went to him for whatever you thought you needed and he was there. Moving away from your father had been a big step and finding a job to support yourself was even bigger, but you were never truly alone because you had Jungkook - you and he living together.
Jungkook was the opposite of you. While your job consisted of you being home, he wasn’t. He made friends easily while you remained with a close knit circle. He was more social when needed and you often closed up around people you didn’t know. Most of your friends were Jungkook’s friends that he considered brothers - you recall asking him why he considered them family and not you. Jungkook didn’t give you any reason, stating that you’d never be a sister in his eyes, no matter if he knew you longer or not.
Now you and Jungkook lay in his bed, an action that he insisted on every so often, and watched tv. He’d often hold you, his breath tickling your ear with how close he was. A certain thought now laid on your mind and when you brought it up to Jungkook, his initial thought was to laugh at you.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. He pushes himself closer to you, the hand on your thigh firmly keeping you in place. “It’s just…you don’t go out much. You’ve been homeschooled your entire life and you don’t really have friends besides the ones I have.”
Jungkook continues. “You literally cried the first time I showed you porn.” he tries his hardest not to laugh at the memory of you and he, both in High School. You had come over to his home while his parents were working. Jungkook had asked you about it randomly, and when you insisted that you never watched something as normal as porn, he insisted that you and he watch together.
You’re flushed with heat at the embarrassing memory. “You…” you take a deep breath so your voice wouldn’t crack. “You told me it was just sex.”
“Is it not?” Jungkook knits his brows.
“They were crying!”
“In pleasure.” says Jungkook. “I should have started you off easy and not gone into bondage.” low, he begins to laugh. It’s a memory that he’s fond of. “But I don’t regret showing you either. It was the first time you came!”
A memory you wished Jungkook would forget - and stop bringing up. That same night he insisted on teaching you about masturbation, telling you that it was normal. You’ve never done so before, feeling weird about it all together, but Jungkook wouldn’t allow you to leave until you at least gave it a try.
“You even cried in pleasure.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, the scene flashing in his mind. How innocent you appeared, completely confused on what in the world you were doing. It was then did Jungkook tell you that he’d talk you through it. It took a half an hour of convincing, of course. Getting you out of your pants, then your underwear.
“Open your legs, Y/N.” Jungkook had said, grabbing your wrist. “Put your fingers right…there.” he places them onto your clit and you flinch at the feeling. “Then rub…” he murmured, his hand coaching you to rub until you got the hang of it.
Jungkook will never forget the sight and how hard he was at just watching you. Your breathing hitching, the low moans and the calls of his name. It’s a memory he cherishes with you - his best friend - and one of the main reasons as to why he’d never call you his sister; he had to dead that immediately afterwards.
“Who are you trying to seduce anyways?” Jungkook changes the subject and goes back to the original topic. “You found yourself a boyfriend?”
“No.” you quip. “I-I just want to have sex.”
Jungkook raises a brow. “Why?”
“You have sex all the time.” you retort. You didn’t like Jungkook’s question, nor the look in his eyes.
“I’m also not a virgin.” Jungkook fires back. “You can’t just have sex with anyone, Y/N. Don’t you think it has to be special?”
“Your first time wasn’t with anyone special.” you murmur. “Do you even talk to her anymore?”
Jungkook snickers. “Don’t remember her name.” he shrugs. “But you and I are different. Sex is different for women.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You women create bonds with guys you give your body to. You can’t have that bond with just anyone.”
It was a conversation Jungkook and you had time and time again. As you got older, you were tired of being a virgin - and dating was never an option. Not because you couldn’t find a boyfriend - you could. You had men come up to you asking for your number and if you’d be interested in going on dates.
The problem was Jungkook. He lingered around you often, and you never minded. He was your best friend and each man that tried were always shot down by him, not you. “He’s ugly.” Jungkook said about one man. “He looks like he doesn’t even shower, Y/N. Why he thinks he can speak to you is beyond me.” was said about another. “Men only want one thing. They can tell that you’ve never been touched.”
“What about Hoseok?”
Jungkook is quiet for a moment, your question lingering in his mind.
Hoseok?
Hoseok.
Jung Hoseok as his friend - the man he calls his brother?
There’s a dark look in Jungkook’s eyes as he thinks about your question.
“Do you like him?”
“I love Hoseok.” you say calmly. “Like I love you.”
Jungkook doesn’t realize that his nails are digging into your skin until he hears you yelp. There was no way in Hell you love Hoseok the same as you loved him; the thought makes him want to gag.
“Why Hoseok?”
You aren’t sure how to respond. “I’ve known him for years.” was all you can think of. You and he were around the same age and he was nice, always smiling widely at you whenever he came around. “Maybe Namjoon?”
Jungkook swallows.
“You look at my friends often?”
There’s a change in Jungkook’s tone that has you cowering.
“I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you want to fuck my friends?”
You’re taken aback by the harshness in Jungkook’s tone.
“I…I don’t know anyone else but your friends.”
Jungkook snickers. He wasn’t going to allow you and Hoseok - or Namjoon, hell, anyone - to do anything. Hoseok is a man such as he is and the thought of his taking something precious from you was driving him wild. Wild because he knows that if you asked Hoseok, he would.
“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hoseok has a girlfriend.”
A lie, but you’d never know that.
“Oh.” you appeared bummed. “Nam-”
“No.”
You swallow. “Jimin…?”
“Do you fantasize about them?”
You’ve know his friends as long as he has, and now he’s wondering when you had the thought of fucking them in your mind.
“I just want to have sex.” you sigh in defeat, not wanting to cause a fight with Jungkook.
“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”
Jungkook doesn’t care how unreasonably spoiled he may sound. You were his best friend, after all. He kept creeps away from you who wanted nothing but to wet their cocks. You were safe with him in the home you and he shared - he’d be damned if he’d allow a man to come in here and fuck you.
You’re silent, and Jungkook continues.
“You don’t love me.”
Your eyes widen when you feel Jungkook remove himself from you.
“I do.” you quip. “I-I just…I don’t have anyone else. I’m tired of not knowing what it feels like.” watching television with sexual scenes had you wondering if sex was truly as good as they made it seem. You recall hearing from Taehyung, another friend of Jungkook, that porn is often fake and not everything you see was real - but how could it not be when their eyes are rolling and they’re screaming with such passion?
“If you loved me, Y/N, you’d ask me.”
Your heart sinks when Jungkook lifts from his lying position. You hated arguing with him. He was someone you loved and trusted with your life - him being upset with you had your anxiety spiking.
“I thought you had someone you were seeing.” you admit. You recall seeing her a few times in the home. She never spoke, but then again neither did you. She would stroll past you to enter Jungkook’s bedroom and only ever gave you a small grin.
“Oh her.” Jungkook brushes past the statement. “I am. Somewhat.” he shrugs his shoulders. Her contemplated asking her out - she was decent looking and a good fuck. But he didn’t love her nor respect her enough to make her his girlfriend. He was just bored at the moment. “Why does that matter?”
The same way it matters that Hoseok had a girlfriend, you think. You want to say it, but you didn’t want to upset Jungkook anymore than he already was. “I don’t want to come between that.”
Jungkook wants to laugh. “I don’t love her. I love you.” Jungkook says, a tone in his voice that indicates that it should be obvious. “You are my best friend. You should be able to come to me when you need me. Not anyone else.”
You lift yourself up from the bed, as well, and you slowly nod your head. “Sorry.” you murmur.
Jungkook turns to face you, a full smile on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, Y/N.” Jungkook holds his hand out for you to grab.
You do, and Jungkook lightly tugs you closer. You and he are face to face now.
“Sex is more than just losing your virginity.” Jungkook’s thumb rubs your knuckles. “Sex should be pleasurable for both of us. Masturbation is a form of sex. You’ve done that already.”
You nod slowly, feeling hot.
“Tell me, Y/N.” Jungkook says. “When you masturbate, what makes you cum?”
You lick your lips, again embarrassed. You swallow while trying to find the words to answer Jungkook.
“When you watch porn, what do you like?” Jungkook changes the question up, and understands how shy you were - even with him.
Jungkook waits patiently for you to respond. “I-I…” you glance away from him. His eyes were always so piercing, like small black holes that can swallow anyone whole.
“Don’t be shy. We’re best friends, right?” Jungkook pulls you closer to him. “If you loved me, Y/N, you’ll tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”
You nod. “Oral sex?” your words come out questioningly.
Jungkook nods. “Okay. That’s a start. Oral sex is a big part of sex. It’s a form of foreplay. Get things started.”
“I don’t think you should do that.” you’re horrified with Jungkook’s face being so close to your sex. Yes, he’s seen it before - years ago - but that was then. He was a man now and he’s had sex with countless women.
“Why not?” Jungkook tilts his head.
You’re silent, and Jungkook sighs. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do!”
“Then why don’t you trust me to pleasure you? You’d rather go to my friends than trust me, Y/N. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I’m sorry.” you quip. “I just don’t think it…looks good?”
Jungkook blinks.
You swallow.
“Of course it looks good.” Jungkook then laughs. “I’ve already seen it.”
“That was years ago.” you murmur, casting your eyes away.
“True. But still. You trust and love me just like I trust and love you.” Jungkook places a hand on your cheek for you to look at him. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t hide your body from me. I’ll have to show you mine, too.”
You nod your head.
“We can start now.”
You inhale deeply. You don’t move, and when Jungkook notices he frowns.
“Y/N. What did I say?”
“Don’t hide from you.” you murmur.
“Exactly. Here. I’ll help you take your clothes off and you can do the same for me.”
Jungkook is slow when he puts his hands at the end of your shirt. He lifts it up and you stiffen, unsure of what to do next. The shirt comes over your head and Jungkook throws it aside.
“Okay?” asks Jungkook, his eyes glancing down to the bra you’re wearing. It’s red and basic, but it hugs your breast perfectly.
You only nod.
“Okay.” Jungkook then goes towards your leggings. They’re tight, but he manages to get his hands inside. He begins to tug and awkwardly, you lift yourself up so he can remove them. Your panties are black and cotton.
“Now you do the same to me.” Jungkook says. He understands you by now, knowing that you’d never take the first move. He grabs your wrists and walks you through it. “Go ahead.”
You’re trembling, you note, as you remove Jungkook’s shirt - an oversize black shirt. You often are reminded how much Jungkook has grown over the years, going from a boy to a man. He worked out often and was athletic. He had many tattoos that litter his skin - you had gone with him for a few of them and pondered how he could sit so calmly.
“I’ll get up to make it easier.” Jungkook lifts from his bed and waits for you to continue. You’re as slow as before, hands trembling more than before. You tug at the sweats he wore, watching as they fall to the ground. You try to hide the fact that you gawk at the bulge in his briefs, swallowing at the sight.
“Y/N.”
You blink up to look at Jungkook.
“You trust me, right?”
You nod your head.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a grin. “Come here.”
Jungkook leans down, his hand grasping your chin. He no longer hesitates or holds back, placing his lips upon yours.
You’re shocked, completely stiff, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You’ll give into him eventually - it may take a few rounds, but you will.
You’re pushed backwards, back hitting the mattress. Jungkook hovers above you, his hands placing themselves onto your shoulders to keep you in place.
You gasp for air when Jungkook removes his lips from yours, but then they’re trailing down your jawline to your neck. You’re breathing heavily, unsure what to do.
“You can touch me.” says Jungkook, as if reading your mind. “Don’t just lay there.���
Jungkook continues to kiss at your neck, his left hand leaving your shoulder and grabs your hand. He places it upon his chest for you to take the lead. His hand then goes to your waist to pull you closer to him.
Your heart thumps that this is happening now - you and Jungkook. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hair standing straight up. But you do as you’re told, hand grabbing Jungkook’s bicep and squeezing it.
Jungkook forces your legs apart, wrapping them around his waist. You yelp when you feel him, his bulge grinding directly against you. There’s a deep groan from Jungkook that you hear coming from your neck.
“You have to engage.” Jungkook lifts slightly to look at your face. “Kiss me like I’m kissing you.”
You’re left stunned when Jungkook flips the both of you, his own back hitting the mattress and now you’re on top of him. He places his hands on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be easier for you this way. I’ll let you take the lead.”
There’s a tension - one sided - when you lean down to his own neck.
“You’re still shy. It’s just me.” Jungkook sighs.
It was easier for him to say. He wasn’t the virgin - or the closed off one that has been homeschooled. The only friend she kept was Jungkook, and his friends, but mainly Jungkook. There was no one she could go to that was the same sex that she could vent to about her frustrations.
“Just let loose, Y/N. We’re friends. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me view you differently.”
You try your best, even closing your eyes in hopes that’d be better. Your lips place themselves at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, and ever so gently did you kiss him. You allowed your hands to rub softly on his bare shoulders, kissing down his neck until you got to his collarbone.
Jungkook hums to himself, his cock twitching to be let loose from his underwear.
You were adjusting - only a bit - but you’d soon be fully accepting. Jungkook allows his hands to dip from your waist and he grabs your ass fully in his grasp.
You swallow, hiding back the surprised gasp. You don’t want Jungkook to think you don’t trust him - because you do. You don’t want to appear utterly shy and closed off. You were older than Jungkook and he had to be the one to show you what life was like, as sad as it was.
“Okay. Now kiss me.”
You nod your head. You want to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, but he doesn’t falter. “You’ll have to look at me eventually, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs.
“I know.” you murmur back, and now meet his eyes. Jungkook smiles when you do, and his head lifts slightly.
Your head dips down to capture his lips in yours once more. There’s a fire running through you this time at the feeling - no longer hesitant or awkward to kiss him. It felt…normal; as if this is something the two of you always did.
Jungkook’s teeth catch your bottom lip and he lightly tugs. “Let loose.” he whispers, and then dives into your mouth again. This time, his tongue pushes past your teeth and meets your own, it’s warm and slimy, but it causes you to moan.
Jungkook’s hands grip your ass, keeping you firmly against his erection. He rubs up your sides for a moment, then on your back. His hands are now on your bra and he appears to be swift in unhooking it.
“Kookie…” you murmur against his lips.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook responds. “You trust me, remember?”
You nod, but trust doesn’t help with your self–consciousness.
Jungkook tugs at your bra until it’s fully off of you. He disgards it, bare hands now taking your breast entirely. He doesn't care how heavy he’s breathing, or how rough his hands squeeze your breast.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook praises.
It’s weird hearing it - for you at least.
Jungkook rarely compliments you - not because he doesn’t think you are, but because he never really has a reason to. He sees you the same everyday - his best friend who he has breakfast, occasionally lunch and dinner with. You’re the same Y/N that he shares movie nights with where the two of you cuddle and laugh at whatever was on the screen.
Now, however, Jungkook has to compliment you. He has to let you know how beautiful you are now - a woman. You grew into your womanly curves over the years, hiding it behind loose clothing, but never truly hiding it. You never hid from him; occasionally wearing shorts that showed your legs and the roundness of your ass, or tank-tops that made your breast appear more plump.
You yelp when Jungkook pinches your nipple. He chuckles at your reaction. “So responsive.” he says, more to himself than to you.
“W-What-”
Jungkook’s tongue licks on your nipple, shuddering at feeling. He couldn’t help but to bring it entirely into his mouth, tongue twirling and suckling on it while his free hand pinches the other. There’s a euphoric feeling engulfing him right now. Yes, he did think about you sexually at times - he was a man and he couldn’t help it. But this was far better than any feeling, any thought or dream he’s ever had.
“Does it feel good?” Jungkook manages to say, popping your nipple from his mouth to just engulf the other one.
“Yes.”
You don’t intend to sound so soft and meek, moaning against Jungkook. But you couldn’t hide it any longer. You can feel the wetness between your legs, arousal pooling out - and Jungkook’s grinding didn’t make it any better.
“You can talk to me, Y/N. You can tell me how much you like it. How I make you feel.”
Jungkook kisses both of your nipples softly.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me how you feel.” Jungkook repeats. “Here,” his right hand drops your breast and without warning, he slaps your ass. The sound echoes, as does you shriek. “I love the way your ass feels.” he then squeezes it in the palm of his hands. “I love the sweet moans coming from those pretty lips of yours.” he continues.
You’re hot, Jungkook’s words cause a new sensation to run through you - nerves running through your body and meeting exactly between your legs.
“It feels good when you touch me.” you say, admitting even if you want nothing more than to hide.
“Yeah?” Jungkook lightly laughs. He squeezes your ass again. “What else?”
You huff, this time now hiding your face. Your head is between his shoulder and neck.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just tell me.” Jungkook encourages. “You trust me like I trust you.”
You sigh. Jungkook was going to be the death of you - you were going to die with embarrassment.
“I like the way you look.”
Jungkook, again, is swift with his movement. He’s once more on top of you. He’s now forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t embarrassed enough.
You go to cover yourself, but that wasn’t something Jungkook was going to allow.
“Go on, Y/N.” Jungkook places a quick peck on your lips before he kisses down your neck to your collarbone.
Your breath is shaky - but it was all Jungkook. His hands rub along your sides as his lips send kisses between your breasts, going lower and lower. “You make me feel…different.”
Jungkook’s lips are now on your stomach. “What’s different?”
“Wet…?”
Jungkook groans. His fingers are hooked between your panties and he wants nothing more than to remove them and dive in, but he’d remain calm for now.
“Look at me, Y/N.”
You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re unsure what Jungkook had in store for you.
You do, however, and Jungkook is now directly between your legs. Your thighs quiver at the sight.
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks, and before you can answer, he places a single kiss upon your clothed clit.
Your throat tightens.
Jungkook wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hear you speak - hear your thoughts, whatever moans you had in you. He didn’t want you to be shy - not with him. He wasn’t a stranger and who else should be the one to take your virginity than him?
Not Hoseok.
Not Namjoon.
Not Jimin - none of his friends.
Just Jungkook.
Dare he say he was entitled to it - you were his best friend. He was there for whatever you needed him to be; and this was one thing you didn’t come to him for (not at first). You wanted his assistance in finding you someone. The thought still upsets him.
“Kookie.” you sigh, hands crashing to your face.
“So shy.” Jungkook tsks. His hands grip your waist and he drags you to the edge of the bed, him falling to his knees before you. “I’ll take the lead.”
You feel your panties being tugged off. You’re unsure of what to do or say - you knew you had to keep breathing or you’d pass out. The coolness of the air hits you and now you fully accept that you’re naked for Jungkook, completely bare before his eyes to see.
You’re so wet, Jungkook notes, arousal coating your lips and thighs. The thought of how excited you’ve been and nothing has happened yet makes him groan, anticipating what's to come.
Your throat releases a gasp and instantly, your legs clench shut, caging Jungkook in.
“S-Sorry, i-”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax.” Jungkook laughs, a gleeful tone in his voice. He had done nothing but flick your clit with his tongue. “Watch me, okay?”
You nod your head.
Jungkook hooks his hands right on your thighs, holding them in a firm grip so you wouldn’t be easily reactive - not without him stopping you. He dips his head back between your legs, tongue dipping between your folds.
Your eyes flutter, unable to truly focus on Jungkook like he wants you to.
The sight alone is filthy - his head bobbing back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. Occasionally, his eyes would dart up to capture your reaction, satisfied that you no longer hid your moans from him.
But the noises Jungkook made were another thing. He suckles on your clit, completely ravishing you as if it was the finest meal. He’s animalistic, not caring. He would draw his head back and spit, then continue his assault upon your clit.
“Kookie, I-I, you need to stop.” you try to get away from Jungkook, but he doesn’t allow it. If anything, Jungkook holds you even tighter. You were going to cum, of course, never truly experiencing a man going down on you. Your stomach churns and you feel like you are going to explode. “Kookie, please stop…”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at you. Your eyes are snapped shut and there’s a few droplets trailing down your cheeks. Jungkook grunts into your pussy. His fingernails dig into your naked flesh, his tongue laying flat against your clit. He continues to ravish you, not caring about your pleas - it was obvious you wanted more and was far too inexperienced to understand it.
Jungkook dives deeper and deeper, your cries only fueling him for more. Your arousal coats the bottom half of his face entirely.
There was another attempt to remove yourself, buckling your hips, but Jungkook only shoves you back down upon the bed. Your toes are curling and you’re unable to see straight. There’s a tightness in your stomach that’s utterly unfamiliar to you.
“I’m not going to stop.”
Jungkook’s voice is deeper - deepest you’ve ever heard it.
“Not until you cum.”
Jungkook’s right hand removes itself from holding your thigh, but that only means he’s holding the other tighter.
Your back arches when you feel his fingers at your entrance.
“I can’t-”
“You will.”
Jungkook doesn’t give a warning before entering his finger’s inside of you. You jump at the foreign feeling. You swallow back and shriek.
“So tight.” Jungkook murmurs to himself.
Two fingers is all you can handle for now. That doesn’t mean Jungkook goes easy on you. He pumps inside of you vigorously, your walls clenching around his digits. Each time he hits a deeper spot that has you jerking.
“I know it feels good, Y/N. My pretty girl.”
You can’t speak, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He pumps and pumps until you’re cumming all over him, arousal splashing onto the hardwood floors of his bedroom.
You’re a crying twitching mess, whimpering to yourself. Jungkook removes his fingers, satisfied with your appearance.
“I could fuck you right now. You’re so wet, Y/N.”
You exhale, eyes snapping open. “Kookie, I-”
“Don’t tell me you can’t take me.”
Jungkook pushes down his underwear and you freeze.
You’ve never seen Jungkook naked before, never going past witnessing him shirtless.
Now Jungkook is as nude as you, cock erect and hard. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum, the shaft twitching in anticipation.
“I can’t.” you cry, now dwelling on the idea of having sex with the man.
Jungkook snickers. He grips his cock and slaps the tip against your wet clit. So wet, he thinks. Wet and warm, completely aroused because of him.
“You were willing to fuck my friends.”
Jungkook rubs the tip against your clit in slow circular motions. It makes a wet and sloppy sound as he does.
“They don’t love you, Y/N. Not like I do.”
You twitch at the feeling, overstimulated enough, even if it did feel good.
“Don’t you love me, Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes don't leave your clit. He continues to tap and circle the tip of his cock against it, the sight beautiful.
“I do…”
“Then why do you keep denying me pleasure?”
Jungkook removes his hand from his cock to place it upon your hips, keeping you in place. He begins to thrust forward, sliding his entire cock against your clit.
“I allowed you to cum, haven’t i?” Jungkook grunts. “Milked my fingers like a little whore. But you won’t let me fuck you.”
Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp - that and the way his cock feels against your already stimulated clit.
Jungkook’s open’s his mouth, a trail of saliva dripping right onto your clit, not because you needed it - you were literally dripping - but just because he wanted to. In his eyes, spitting upon you was an act of marking his territory and after he fucked you - and he was going to regardless - he would assure that only he would be the one fucking you afterwards; always and forever.
Jungkook continues to rub, his pace quickening.
“Do you think another man would have given you the satisfaction?” Jungkook hisses. “They would’ve fucked you and left, Y/N. This is why I’m here. I love you, my pretty girl…” his tone softens. “...so wet and ready for me. You’ll let me have you, right, Y/N? You’ll let me be the one who takes your virginity?”
Slowly, you nod your head. Jungkook was someone you loved greatly. He was a man and understood how men think - you couldn’t be upset with him now. “Okay…”
Jungkook smiles wide, full set of teeth shining at you. “My pretty girl. You’re always so good for me. Give me your hand.”
You do as Jungkook tells you to do, and he guides your hand to touch his cock. It twitches in your grip.
“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook demands and groans when you do. “Okay, baby…now center it at your pussy.”
You’re being so obedient for him, Jungkook thinks. He watches as you do what he tells you, the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. “Good girl.” Jungkook mumbles.
“Don’t you need to wear a condom?”
Jungkook wants to laugh at your words. “Condoms are for people who have one night stands. Why would I wear a condom with you?” he asks, a tilt of his head. He had no intention of allowing you to fuck another man, so him not wearing a condom was alright.
You widen your eyes. “Pregnancy…?”
Again, Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only stares into your wide eyes. He had no intention of impregnating you now, but if it happened, then it did. That only meant that it’s what the universe wanted.
“You know I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook says.
“I love you, too.” you respond.
Simpering, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he says, and then without warning, he enters you whole. There’s no warming upm Jungkook thinks, the faster he gets it over with, the faster pleasure will come for you.
When your mouth opens to shriek, Jungkook silences you with his lips. His hips snap inside of you, unable to stop. So tight, he thinks, fully milking his cock with your essence. It’s as though his cock fit perfectly inside of you; like a puzzle piece coming together to complete a set.
The pain is excruciating and you’re unable to pull away from Jungkook. His grip on you was intense, fingers bruising into your skin.
The sound of skin slapping is loud in the room, echoing off the walls.
“My pretty girl.” grumbles Jungkook when he releases your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, Y/N.”
The pain shoots throughout your body, but hearing those words from Jungkook was worth it to you. You blink away the tears so you can focus on his face.
“Soon the pain will go away, and you’ll love the way I fuck you.”
You nod. You trusted Jungkook.
It takes a while for the pleasure to come, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t. Jungkook hits your sweet spot, slamming you against his bed with each thrust. Your moans are loud for him, so sweet and melodic - he knew you had it in you to let loose.
“Feels good, pretty girl?” Jungkook questions, the question rhetorical. He knows by the way you clench around him that it does - that and your high pitched moans.
“Feels…so…good…” you grunt, panting along with each powerful thrust.
“Good.”
Jungkook removes himself just so he can turn you around, chest firmly against his mattress. He enters you once more, hitting even deeper than before.
Your eyes snap shut and your arms shoot out, gripping the bed sheets for support. Whatever you once imagined sex would be like didn’t give it any justice. Sex with Jungkook was a pleasurable feeling you’d never forget - you’re unsure how you’d ever be able to go back to masturbating once this was over.
Both of Jungkook’s hands place themselves on yours, entangling your hangers with his. His lips kiss your back, pounding inside of you with such passion.
There it was again, the churning feeling in your stomach.
“I feel you, baby.” Jungkook pants. It’s as if you never want him to stop, creaming his cock like your life depended on it. “Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”
You groan, shaking your head at how good you felt.
“I love you, Kookie.” you murmur so low that it’s barely audible, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.
It causes Jungkook to grind into you deeper and deeper, feeling himself come undone at just words. You told him those three words many times before, but now it felt different. Intimate. This was something he’s never heard during sex - and if there was a chance he did, he wouldn’t care.
You were who Jungkook loved; his best friend since childhood.
You were the one who Jungkook wanted to hear the words from.
Jungkook’s cumming, his heaving breaths ticking the skin of your back. He doesn't bother to pull out of you, instead he milks your walls completely with his seed, shuddering with complete bliss.
Jungkook won’t regret it - cumming inside of you felt right. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook coos, pulling out of you to tuck you further into his bed. He lays beside you, embracing you from behind. “You did so good for me.”
Your heart swells at the compliment, your eyes heavy with slumber.
Jungkook holds you tight as you drift to sleep, satisfied that you were here with him.
Not Hoseok or Namjoon or anyone else - but him.
After all, he was the only one who truly loved you for who you are and didn’t see you as just a hole to fill - he wasn’t like those other men out in the world. No, Jungkook was better than any man you could ever think about being with. He proceeds to place a kiss upon your temple, satisfied that you were his and his alone.
idol version
#best friends!#trivia-yandere#trivia-yandere masterlist#btswritingcafe#bangtan smut#btswriterscollective#yandere bts#bangtanwritershq#bangtanwriters net#jungkook smut#btswritersclub#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bff jungkook#방탄소년단
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A Weasley Holiday // G.W x reader
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Request: May I ask for a George Weasley x reader where they have been dating for a while and he invites her to spend Christmas at the burrow and it's all fluffy?
Word Count: 2.1k
Author's Note: I’m sorry this actually took me like 7 days to write this and I don't know why. I was having such a hard time with story building it was stupid! Anyway, I hope it's okay, I honestly wanted to scrap it and start it over for like a third time.
[masterlist]
Much Love, Saige
————
Lively and warm, George and you were finishing up your dinner in the great hall, both entirely engulfed in each other's presence. Life was bright with him, and you couldn’t get enough of it.
“No way Sirius would beat Lupin in a fist fight” You chuffed, leaning forward to take another bite of food.
“Oh please. Lupin has all the height he needs!” George yelped, his voice only slightly more auditable over the bustling students in the hall. “Plus, he is scrappy. I think the scar says it all” He wagged his eyebrows, watching you lean back in laughter.
George’s heart was full anytime he made you laugh. It became his personal achievement to see you smile every day. It gave him satisfaction in his own ego (of course) that he could make you laugh, but also he melted every time he watched how your entire body reacted, slapping the table and holding your stomach whenever one was particularly good.
“Alright alright. Well maybe we'll have to pin them against each other just to see.” You came down from your fit, trying to catch your breath. Captivated in your beauty, George sat for a moment, just admiring you. Little did you know he’d been wracking his brain to find a good time to ask you to come home with him over the holiday break. He was terrified that you’d reject the idea, though part of him understood that you’d want to go be with your own family.
Conflicted, he took a deep breath in, realizing now is as good a time as any to ask. Clearing his throat, he reached across the table, his hand covering yours. The change of energy was startling, your eyes suddenly fixated on him.
“What’s wron-“ you started
“I’d love for you to spend Christmas with me. At the burrow.” He cut you off, speaking incredibly quickly, the words falling off of his lips. He felt that he needed to say it immediately or he’d lose all confidence in himself.
The anxiety filled in your chest was replaced with a swell of relief. Your shoulder slumped, the question much less serious than you were anticipating.
“I'd absolutely love to.” You flipped his hand over, now rubbing the top of his knuckles. A wide smile growing on his face. You swore you could feel the excitement through his fingertips, practically knocking both of your drinks over on the table from shaking your hand dramatically.
He gripped your hand tightly, bringing it to his lips with a small kiss.
“You’re mine. All winter break” He mumbled. It was more to himself than anything, but the words could have made you packed your bags right then and there.
—
Later that month, you were alone in your dormitory, the final morning at Hogwarts before the holiday break. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you looked around your room, silently acknowledging to yourself that when you come back to this room, you and George would have spent an entire month together, outside of school grounds with no interruptions.
Packing your trunk felt different this time around, even though you were packing the same items you came with, the idea that you’d soon be unpacking it in a whole new house made you nervous. You were beyond grateful that George and his family opened their home to you, especially during the holiday season, but you couldn’t help being anxious that they maybe in the slightest chance… might not like you.
Folding your last set of school robes, you tucked in your undergarments, making it near to impossible for anyone to find amongst your items. Closing the trunk, you stopped and took one more look around the room, looking for anything you may have left behind. Accepting that you were procrastinating the inevitable, you set off for the common room, ready to meet up with George and head out together.
Stepping down the staircase, you spotted him alone. His hands were tucked in his pockets looking up at you. His neck was swaddled in a colorful handmade scarf along with a matching hat; only his eyes and nose peer through. You giggled quietly as you came down the stairs. He stayed quiet, waiting for you to get closer.
“Are you warm enough?” You smirked, snaking your arm around his, pulling him towards the door. His laugh was muffled through the scarf, his body limp, making it harder to move him from his spot.
“Uh, huh - you take one step outside and see for yourself! I ought to get you a hat too for your little ears.” George playfully nudged, finally walking alongside you down the hallway.
“Little ears?” Spo
“Yes, little ears that will freeze off.” He whispered, leaning down speaking in a low unnerving voice, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.
“At last! I won’t have to hear you snore the whole break!” You declare loudly, looking up at George. With only his eyes visible, you could still see the shock and apawl spread across his face, only making you laugh harder.
—
The train ride was pleasant. You, George, and Fred all shared a compartment in the back of the train, both of them huddled together in deep conversation.
For most of the trip you looked out the window, enjoying the snowy landscapes along with George’s hand in yours. Him and his brother exchanged ideas the whole way home about their escapades and plans for their skiving snackbox and the implications of something larger — like a brick and mortar store. It was something that you admire deeply about them both; their ability to work towards their dream, even though the pessimistic feelings of their mother.
Tuning them out, you rested your head on the window sill, falling asleep to the sound of their voices and the rhythmic bump of the train car.
—
You woke up to a light kiss on the cheek, George's lips bringing you back to reality. The train car was empty except you two, Fred already out of the compartment and down the hall.
“Come on, we can relax more later.” He urged, lifting you lightly from your seat. With his hand still in yours, you both left the train, quickly enveloped with the sounds of reuniting families and laughter as students connected with their loved ones.
”Ah My Boys!” A tall man exclaimed, easily recognizable as Mr.Weasley, his tall frame and red hair mimicking those of the twins. George squeezed your hand, bringing you over to his family. Along with Mr.Weasley was Mrs.Weasley, a large bustling woman, moving around quickly taking in each child with a long strong hug. Turning to face you and George, she smiled sweetly, bringing her hands to your face, cupping your cheeks.
“Ah. The girl George can't stop talking about. Welcome dear, we are happy to have you.” She pulled you into a hug as well, her perfume powerful yet comforting.
You glanced at George during the encounter, a pleasant sense of satisfaction across his face as his mother held you close. Your addition to the group felt natural and he couldn't help but imagine future trips home with him, bringing you back to the parents time and time again.
Soon the whole group was ushered into a fireplace, each witch or wizard taking their turn traveling with floo powder to the burrow. The sensation was abrupt, only using the floo network a few times, you arrived in a clumsy fashion, your knees buckling as you arrived, falling into a pile of ash. Getting your bearings, you stood up, brushing the soot off your clothes as best you could before being captivated by the warmth and chaotic energy of your new environment.
Stumbling just out the fireplace, you made way for the next weasley family member to arrive, looking around in your own time. Small moving pictures of each sibling were placed neatly above the fireplace, decorated beautifully with holly berries. The house smelt of pine and wood, large hand knit blankets laid haphazardly over each chair, inviting you to sneak under one and fall into a deep sleep.
Breaking you from your trance, a large crack echoed against the walls informing you that you were not alone anymore. Turning back to the fireplace, your eyes connected with George, his hand already outstretched to meet you.
“This place is wonderful.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso. He rocked you back and forth slightly, absolutely absorbed with the reality that you were actually in his childhood home.
“Here, allow me to give you a tour.” He released his grip from your body, pulling you towards the kitchen, bringing you around the house. Your eyes traveled around the rooms, small objects moving on their own, completing small household tasks. The dishes were washing themselves, a blanket was being knit in the corner of the living room, and a large broom was sweeping up the dirt that dispersed from the fireplace by your footsteps. You listened intently as he brought you to a large staircase, winding up for several floors. You were taken back by how tall the house was, unable to discern that front the inside.
Taking you up the stairs, your heart raced. You were excited to see his room, how it was decorated, how it was shaped and sized. You always thought one's childhood bedroom said a lot about a person. Climbing the stairs, it felt like you both were out of breath as you arrived in front of a single door. George turned and faced you before opening it.
“Now, just let me say - “ He cleared his throat, “we are trying to get the smell out I promise.” Your eyes widened in suspicion, all of a sudden hesitant of walking in. Creaking the door slightly, your eyes travel over the room, an overwhelming aroma of gunpowder engulfed your nose, stifling a sneeze as you walked in.
“It’s stuck to the walls I swear but we promised mum we’d do it as soon as we got back.” He shrugged his shoulders, rushing over to the window to open it, wafting the air with his hands as best he could. You laughed, watching him desperately attempt to air out the room. After a few minutes you became accustomed to the smell, taking a seat on his bed, a sweater placed on his and Fred's encrusted with their initials.
“We probably have a few hours until supper, here, lay down.” George met you around the side of the bed, folding over the quilt ushering you under it. You smiled up at him, taking off your coat and jeans, slithering your legs under the warm blanket. You could’ve swore the duvet was charmed to make you fall asleep immediately, your eyes becoming heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You looked up at Goerge one more time, his frame leaning over you to tuck you in.
You leaned your head up, closing your eyes forming your lips into a comedic pout, begging for a kiss. He looked down at you, shaking his head and sucking his teeth, teasing you for a moment. He held his body over yours, waiting to see how long he could make you wait. The corners of his mouth twisted into a smirk, watching your eyes scrunch further, waiting for his lips to meet yours.
“Awe come onnnn.” You mumbled, flopping back into the bed. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to sleep, snoring lightly. George just laughed, turning your face with his hands placing several large kisses across your face, lastly on your lips. He held you, the final kiss lasting a few seconds, before laying your head back down.
”Ill be back in a little.” His hands rubbed the side of your head lovingly, only the sounds of his feet padding across the floorboards and the door latching, bringing you to a blissful silence. The familiar aroma of the blanket and pillow guiding your body into full relaxation.
You couldn't wait to wake up and start the holiday break with his family, but for now, you fell asleep in blissful peace.
#george weasley headcanon#george weasly x reader#george wealsey imagine#george weasley#George Weasley x you#george weasley x fem#George Weasley
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burning passion of twilight
this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)
A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!
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“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt.
Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it.
Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side.
He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more.
Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him.
Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers.
Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions.
The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate.
Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron.
“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”
You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either.
The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”
His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…
“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh.
“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope.
“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you.
You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions.
You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.
School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath.
This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.
Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out.
You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.
“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”
There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve.
“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face.
Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”
Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor.
And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides.
He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him.
James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze.
“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back.
“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”
“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”
James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.
“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face.
“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”
At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm.
“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising.
“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”
“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.
Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there.
“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems.
You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours.
You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan.
You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else.
“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you.
“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”
Well, damn it.
You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.
“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice.
“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.
You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”
“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”
His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself.
“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”
You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”
At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”
You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm.
“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”
Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right.
“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”
Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him.
“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run.
Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”
He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James.
Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.
The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.
You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”
Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”
Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response.
“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.
You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall.
People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.
“...fighting…”
“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”
“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”
You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.
“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”
James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.
You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.
You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.
“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.
Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”
James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”
Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”
Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.
“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal.
James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm.
This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight.
You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.
Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…
…directly at James’s head.
A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.
James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on.
With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.
The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.
You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.
“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.
“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.
“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide.
Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.
James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…
…but doesn’t ever reach it.
Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.
“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”
The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.
You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”
A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him.
You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.
“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”
“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”
You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.
“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”
“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”
“Even for dueling Pan?”
You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”
“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”
You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.
“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.
James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “Let’s just say, a little birdie told me of how he harassed you in class earlier today. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”
You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.
“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”
“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.
“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.
James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”
You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.
James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap.
You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.
You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.
Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.
The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.
You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.
end x
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Would you be willing to write something along the lines of a female human getting bred by some minotaurs? The idea of being used like a breeding cow for those massive creatures just sends me in a dizzy (and the size difference *swoons*)
I absolutely love your work and would love to see your take on this ❤️
This is so HOT. ESPECIALLY bc one of my system members has a huge hucow kink. MAKE SURE YOU TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS IF YOU SEND AN ASK. you won't be notified unless it's non anonymous.
PART 2 IS OUT NOW!
(This story is kinda long, but I got excited, and there's lots of sex :3 if you want to scroll down to the juicy bits, the bg changes from pink to green.
If you want part 2 I'd be happy to oblige!
FEM! AFAB READER ON MINOTAUR BREEDING FARM. MILKING/BREEDING/DRUGGING!
(Psa, I do my nest to correct spelling, but some things may be misspelled. :] )
You had just signed up for a summer job working on a farm. You're relatively strong and have managed to build muscle while you were doing other forms of work and heavy lifting. You'd been trying to bulk up to make this easier and had gained a little but of weight that had mainly gone to your chest.
This made you slightly insecure because it made it harder to shop for good bras, but hopefully that could be changed when you had enough money from this job to do so.
You receive a phone call, the voice heavy and gruff.
"Hello? Is this (y/n)?"
"Yes it is!", you answered in your bubbly work voice, though you were very exited, hoping it was one of the places you'd applied for.
"Wonderful. This is the dairy farm Cali Dairy? I'm looking at your application, and you look like you'd be a perfect fit for what we're looking for."
He sounded so sweet, and both this and the acceptance made your heart race. He was a good sign that the company would probably be good to its employees.
"That's amazing! When and where do I meet you? Is there an interviewing process for information or will that he sent to me?"
He chuckled softly into the phone at your eagerness.
"Yes. The information will be sent to the email attached to your resume."
"Thank you so much! Have a great day!"
"You too."
He replied as you ended the call. You squealed into your pillow and anxiously awaited the email.
A ping sounded on your computer and you clicked on the notification. The email reads,
___________
"Dear applicant,
We are happy to welcome you to the Cali Dairy family!
Please meet with the supervisor, Daniel, at 477 Milky Whey, Sacramento, California. 95872. On Monday, August 5th at 10.30 AM.
(This is not a real place, and I hope you like the pun.)
You will be moving to one of our in-house apartments. You will be shown around and be given ample time to move and adjust.
If you have any questions, please reply to this email and we will get back to you soon.
Sincerely, Cali Dairy.
_________
When you applied, you saw something about comfortability moving for work and had selected yes, but you didn't know the extent of it. You didn't think much about it and figured that anything you needed to know would be explained on Monday when you met the supervisor.
You wondered if the supervisor was the same kind of sounding man on the phone but passed the thought off to the side as you began to plan on packing.
The coming week and a half passed as you began to pack up your own apartment, you wanted to make the move as easy as you possibly could to work sooner and you figured you'd just unpack after your shifts.
You prepared your outfit for the next day excitedly, deciding on a baggy older shirt with a bike design on it and a pair of your straight leg work jeans. You didn't expect to work on the first day, but you wanted to be prepared just in case.
The next morning, you woke to your 8 am alarm, your body vibrating with excitement. You took a 30 minuite shower, making sure to use extra of all of your various coffee scented soaps and scrubs. You topped it off with a heavily scented, "whisky and coffee" lotion and dryed your hair, and put it up in an old soft tee shirt, a trick you'd learned from your mom.
You slipped I your clothes, by now 8:45 and pulled the tee shirt off of your head and list let your hair down, de-tangling it quickly before grabbing your phone, keys, and anything else you'd need.
You shoved the various things into your bag and drove to the address you were given. The further and further out you got from the city. The open roads lead into fields of various crops and trees. Redwoods were tall and towered lightly along the road side and you enjoyed the scenery. If this was where you were going to be, you'd be happy about it. The drive was so peaceful, and much better than the traffic you were used to.
You arrived at a large, farm house- looking building and pulled into a paved driveway full of a few other vehicles. As you looked around, there were various small walking trails to other buildings with various lables and signs scattered almost like a college campus. The sign on the building you pulled up two read, "reception and Managerial office."
You smiled and gathered your things, turning the car engine off and stepping out. You could feel the energy charging through your veins as you walked over to the steps of the quaint building.
As you entered, there was a front desk, no one was there but there was a small paper taped to the front of the desk.
"New hire, the office is down the hallway, the supervisor should be waiting for you."
You meandered down the hallway and gently rapped ( a soft knock, usually with two out of your 4 main fingers) softly on the door.
"Come in." You heard the low voice through the door, deep but still light. You entered and looked around the office before your eyes landed on the bigger -man? Behind the desk.
You'd seen many other species in your day to day but you'd never met a Minotaur, but there one sat. His thin coat was shiny on the parts that weren't covered by the sizable black polo shirt he was wearing. You could see just below his waist to the brown leather belt and blue jeans he wore.
They squeezed lightly around his large thighs, you couldn't help but stare and hadn't noticed you were.
"Hello, y/n?"
You smiled as you were snapped back to reality.
"Yes, that's me!", your face flushed. He looked kind of nice in what he was wearing.
"I hope I'm not under dressed - I sincerely thought I might be doing some lifting today or just starting work, so I wanted to be sure -"
He cut you off and smiled - "It's alright. I don't blame you. I'm just a manager so don't let my atire fool you. I'll show you around if you'd like."
You beamed and nodded, clutching your bag over your shoulder. He stood, and you could hear the wooden floor creak under his weight. He was huge, at least a couple of feet taller than you.
"My name is Daniel, by the way. It's very nice to meet you."He held his big hand out to shake.
You were just now looking at his features, a slightly humanoid bull head sat on strong shoulders, the colors of his fur were so beautiful, deep browns blending into whites around his nose and eyes. His eyes were a deep brown and they shown in the sun as he looked down at you.
You took his hand to shake it, and he gripped your hand very softly and shook once. He held your hand so gently for such a bug creature. He was so beautiful, it was all you could think about. As he passed you, you realized that you were only chest hight, the thought made you blush deeply.
"You coming?" He chuckled as he walked out of the office.
You scrambled to get behind him as he led the way, and you were happy to follow. As you two walked along the path ways. You passed a smaller building that read "Medic" and locked your head.
"First thing, you go into this building. This is where you will have your physical, where our nurse will check you over and make sure you're fit to work."
You nod and walk into the building. He doesn't follow.
It's a one room doctors office. You walk in and see a slender red head turned away from you, facing a counter. She seems to be investigating a sample of some kind.
She must've heard you walk in as she turned around halfway.
"Hey! How can I help you? You need a bandaid or something?"
She didn't recognize you hut was clearly preoccupied.
"I'm a new hire - I'm here for my physical?" You offered this answer shyly. She was very pretty. You saw her fully as she turned around, her face was thin and her nose slightly pointed. She turned to the side to grab something, a Greek nose. She was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, even more than the burley man you'd left him outside.
Her eyes were a bright, shining blue. "A physical, huh? It's been a minute since we've gotten a newbie. Alright, sit on the table." She gestured to the doctors table.
You hopped up onto the table, which caused your large chest to bounce and recoil. You blushed and gently put your hand on your chest to hold them still.
She looked to the side at you and smiled.
"Yeah, big chests are so much fun-" she gestured to her own chest, which was actually now that you looked. Almost just as big as yours.
"That being said, we're going to do some measurements and get you a special support bra. The world you do is going to have a lot of moving, so we want you to have the maximum posture assistance and comfort that helps protect your back and chest. This does mean that I'm going to have to touch your chest. Are you alright with that?",
You nodded, and the blush spread from your cheeks to your ears. "Yes, that'll be okay -"
She nodded and pulled out a clip board and readied it. With one hand. She gently felt across your chest, very gently squeezing and prodding in different places. She would ask if you could feel a touch here and asked if it hurt when she pressed in another spot, all of this caused your pussy to scream. Her hands were so gentle, and your chest was so sensitive.
She began to pick up on it and would grab harder here and there. She finally stopped and wrote down a few things on her clipboard.
"Bra size looks to be a double or triple D? Thirty-six, maybe?"
She was right, "yeah, 36 DDD." The woman nodded and waved her hand.
"Alright, we're done. You can go. My name is Dr Sylvia. It's a pleasure to meet you, and you are?"
"(Y/n), nice to meet you too."
"Alright, you can go now."
You thanked her and left the building, finding Daniel leaning against the wall to the side of the door.
"You done already?"
"Yes."
"Alright." He continued to lead you around
To various buildings, one of which reading "Spa" as you passed it.
"Oh there's a spa?", Daniel nodded.
"We take good care of our employees here. We make sure they're all relaxed. Relaxed workers work harder and better. Science fact." He smiled proudly.
He showed you around until about 2:30pm and asked you if you had any questions. You asked about your moving situation and what was paid for and what wasn't. He informed you that in a couple of days or when you were done packing, moving men would come help me move my things if I call him to ask.
Once everything was sorted, you made your way home, through the beautiful fields and trees just kind of talking in your own head.
Your mind and heart raced as you thought about your attractive new coworkers. They were both so incredible looking and both seemed so genuine and sweet.
Once you arrived home, you found your cunt drooling and a light buzzing in your clit, you needed to get off so badly. You wandered over to your drawer, undressing from the waist down with one hand as you fumble with the buttons. Once that gentle hum starts, you practically shove it between your legs, crying out as the vibrations sent pulses through your throbbing cunt.
You fought to get out of your underwear, desperate to shove something inside of yourself. You were just desperate to have something in you - God anything.
You thrust your index and middle finger into your wet hole, moving them around right up against your g spot. Your moans fill the room, not caring much about your neighbors. It was one of your last nights anyway.
This turned into hours and hours of teasing and edging yourself. Rolling around in bed and imagining the two beautiful creatures tossing you between the two of them, choking on the Minotaur's cock while the Dr ate your pussy, this thought alone was enough to make you ruin your sheets with cum, squiriting violently and crying out.
You breathed hard as your orgasm shook you softly as it fizzled out. "Fuck-", you mumbled to yourself and cleaned up, changing the sheets.
You weren't required to come into work until your things were moved so you spent the next week finishing packing and called Daniel. You found yourself giddy to talk with him.
"Hello?"
"Hey! It's (y/n) everything is all packed up and I'm ready to move officially whenever."
"Alright. Make sure you mark boxes fragile, then come here in your car and bring a bag for your essentials, I'll show you your apartment and give you your key."
You giggled softly,covering the mouth peace of the phone. "Yep! No problem!", you excitedly grabbed a marker and made absolutely certain that anything you COULD carry you would. Any small things you would need were transported to your car and you drove to the place you had met the larger man the week prior.
Once she arrived, the sun was setting and she walked to where she knew the man's office was and found the door open. He stood, and she once again remembered her size.
"Alright. I'm going to drive my stuck, you follow me in your car and I'll show you where the apartment is."You followed him out and started up your car. You watched him get into his and follow him around the plot of land to a set of nice-looking buildings with balconies.
He parks in front of building number 256. Daniel smiled as he stepped out of His car. He tossed me my key and you cought it, smiling smugly. He raised an eyebrow to you as if to playfully question your ego. Daniel walked foward and you followed him to aparrtment 27,, thankfully one of the upper apartments. this meant you wouldnt hav an upstairs neighbor. when you unlocked the door, you walked in and gasped at how big the space was.
"Do you like it? We'd be happy to change the room if it's not to your liking.", You gasped and shook your head.
"No no no- it's amazing! This is the biggest apartment I've ever seen!"
You walked in to a large, light hardwood floor, that space leading into an open kitchen across the room from the front door. In the far left of the living room, a hallway that probobly lead to the bed and bathroom. You wandered across the room and into the hallway, to the left was the bathroom, showcasing a large walk- in, rain shower. in the corner, a large round bath tub.
You gasped more in awe. These people had to be some sort of loaded - you'd figured being it was 26 dollars an hour, at least that was the most you'd ever been paid.
As you walked through, Daniel watched you carefully, watching your expression and smiling to himself. You walked into the bedroom, which was carpeted and ginormous. On the far side, right-hand side of the room, there was a door to the balcony.
In the middle of the room, there was a mattress up against the wall.
"I've just received a text that the guys are at your place, and I have them grabbing your bed frame in a separate car. We supply the mattress because we like to ensure your comfort. This brand has been proven to be the most comfortable."
You nod absentmindedly, just excited you were at the new place.
"You start Wednesday, I'll leave you to unpack and get as comfortable as you can." He bowed his head lightly as a goodbye and left the apartment.
You were honestly pretty tired from all of the excitement and just fell asleep on the empty mattress, which wad infact the most comfortable one you'd ever laid on.
Over the coming three days, you unpacked and built your bedframe, turning your apartment more and more into your own every day. The movers had brought your things unto the living room area while you were asleep, which only worried you slightly, but nothing had happened, so you brushed it off.
It was now your real first day. You hear a ring at your doorbell and see a package on the ground. You take it inside and unpack what looks to be a new braw, the one the Dr was talking about assumedly.
You slip it on and adjust yourself as needed, finding joy in the comfort and support. There was an adjustable posture corrector built in with small straps to help adjust from under your arms.
You slipped on a tee shirt over the bra, just another one of your old vintage tees you used for work and your work jeans. You receive a text telling you to meet the Dr at the 'stables' in 15 minutes.
You were super excited. You loved form animals and wondered which one you'd be working with, saying stables would probably mean horses or just a holding for cows.
You drove over to the stable section and parked your car in the small lot in front of the building. You could see a pen that stretched around the back side of the building, but you couldn't see what was in the. The Dr Sylvia met you at the door and smiled.
"Well well. So I see the bra came in. Looks good on you if you don't mind me saying. Is jt comfortable?"
You smiled. "Absolutely! I love it."
A sly smirk slipped across her face. "I'm going to be honest, "You're not going to wear it more in your free time to help build posture and, of course, for when you go out. But this job is alittle different from most. "
This confused you, of course, because in that case, why make the bra and say it was for work? Regardless, she followed her into the building as we're met with an incredibly loud wiring and another sound you couldn't quite place because the sound was so overiden by the machine noise.
The Dr showed you to a small stall that was to your surprise, empty aside from a few things you weren't paying much attention to. The Dr smiled and pulled a small syringe out of her pocket full of a clear liquid.
You cocked your head slightly. "This is an ati-biotic that will help with possible issues with the bulls. Just incase there's anything that we don't catch in time it keeps you from getting sick."
This made sense, so you held out your arm for her, and she shot it into a vein. Within minutes, you felt lightly energetic and then very euphoric. Sylvia smiled as she saw this take effect, and your mind fogged.
She led you into the contraption you hadn't really seen until now, a small bench with arm and leg cuffs. "Undress please", you knew better but couldn't help it. Whatever this was was a truth serum on steroids or something.
Except, instead of telling the truth, you just did everything you were told. You stripped down sheepishly, and she helped you straddle the bench and lock your limbs into place. She adjusted the bench so the back was slightly higher than the front.
Your breasts hung over the front, and a separate arm slipped into place around them, holding your nipples to be aimed down at the ground.
You could feel your chest begin to ache, yout tits felt- full? You were just coming to terms with the possibility of what was about to happen and began to panic internally, though with no real affect to your body, which felt heavily sedated.
You could hear the machine noise start to get quieter, and moans radiated from the stalls around you. Your face flushed as you came to further terms with what was going to happen, then it clicked - bulls. Was there going to be more Minotaurs?
Just then, a door opened up behind you, and you heard huffing as a solution was spread across your entrance, sticking gently between your lips.
"Alright. You are perfectly safe, and all of our bulls know to be gentle with our newcomers. This doesn't mean they won't be exited, but you'll definitely adjust. This Gate behind you will open, and the bulls will be let in."
Sylvia smiled softly and gently ran her fingers through your hair. "You're gorgeous." She winked and left the stall. You heard a latch lock into place, and a buzzer sound as the gate behind you opened
You tried to listen, but it was harder and harder to stay focused. You were feeling less and less sentient by the minute, and God did your tits feel heavy.
You heard scuffing against the hay that coated the wooden floor and tried to listen harder, not knowing what to expect. There sounded like multiple creatures stepping.
The big hulking creatures investigated you, groping softly at your flesh.
"She's perfect," one of them grunted.
"I call first dibs!" You heard what sounded like impact and assumed they were pushing each other around.
Were they fighting over you? The idea made you swoon.
Soon, you felt something wide pressing gently against your entrance.
"Fuck she's so tight!-", one of them moaned out softly as he began to gently tease his tip into your hole. You moaned out softly. You'd had sex a few times, but it was nothing special, but these creatures were so huge. Their tip felt bigger than most toys you'd used if you stacked them onto each other.
He was infact very gentle at first, the other Minotaur walked over infront of you, his cock was room hard and the size of your head, you couldn't help but drool as he gently opened your mouth with his thumb.
"She's pretty too- can't wait to fuck her throat. Her lips are so plush she looks like she gives good head-", He chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your lips, slipping it into your mouth. You sucked softly, you couldn't help it.
Your cunt grew wetter and tried to stretch, gripping desperately at the other creatures' tip. You moaned over the Minotaur in front of you, and he raised his tip to your lips, pulling his thumb out.
You found yourself opening your mouth for him, though not sure if any of it would fit. He chuckled.
"Adam, this one's very eager to please - she might be my new favorite."
"Mine too - fuuck I could do this all day with just my head. I can't wait to feel her pussy when I'm all the way in-"
You blushed softly. You were so watery, but you did feel happy to be used to be useful. He gently pressed his head against your lips, and you tried to greet him with your tongue, licking softly around the exposed head.
You even tried to lean forward slightly to accommodate you. He smiled and stepped forward.
"Oh my god, her tongue is god send-"
"Were gonna have to swap - I wanna try -"
This must've been normal to them. They talked and bickered like this is a daily occurance- favorite? Maybe they'd pick you more- his cock feels so good and it was barely in at all.
As time passed, they began to push themselves further and further into your holes, making themselves fit. Soon enough, adam was keeping a steady rythem and fucking you, his tip alone tickled your cervix without even trying, while the other held your jaw gently while he fucked into your throat.
"Just breathe through your nose and relax your throat, sweetheart. Makes it hurt less."
You found yourself blushing. He was so kind of considering. You listened to his advice, and it made the experience more heavenly. You had been trying to figure out how to do it comfortably for a while. You had a tough oral fixation that you'd been trying to fulfill.
This was everything you never knew you always wanted, your cunt dripped wet around Adam's cock and you drooled on the others, taking them both as far into you as you could.
"How's her mouth feel, Erin?"
"Fucking amazing, she's so good at it!"
You smiled to the best of your ability around him and tried to move your tongue as he thrusted.
Erin's hands moved to the back of your head to steady it as he moved, yiu could feel his cock throbbing in your throat and even swallowed around him to help him finish, moaning lewdly anyway from Adam's roughness with your pussy.
"Fuck I'm so close!", Erin called out and his hips picked up speed, your brain went almost entirely foggy, this was the best thing you'd ever experienced, Adam groaned and he picked up speed aswell, you could feel his knot pressing up against your entranced as he desperately tried to fuck it into you.
Within five minutes he'd managed to shove his knot in your drooling cunt and Erin pushed his knot to your lips as he came harshly down your throat, you choked lightly but tried your best to swallow.
Adam spewed cum what felt like right into your womb and you cried out and coughed slightly against Eric's length. He pulled out of your mouth and you gasped for air.
"You're stuck here for a minute, doll. Gotta make sure you get bred properly."
You nodded and gripped at his shaft with your walls. During the wait period, Erin smiled and petted your head gently, playing with your hair.
"You did such a good job for us. We're gonna swap out and have s'more fun with you, and then you'll get your pretty tits milked." He chuckled and gropped one of your aching breasts. You whined and struggled lightly against your restraints.
"I'd better not. Dr Sylvia gets irritated if we milk you and waste it."
You were confused about the milking, but you truly felt like a breeding cow. It was your favorite thing.
After a moment, finally Adam's knot swelling went down, and he was able to pull out of you. His cum spilled out of you and slipped down your thighs. It was so warm. They swapped places and you finally were eye to eye with the cock that had filled you to your cervix and allyou could think about was getting it into your mouth.
You opened your mouth for him, sticking your togue out. He pressed his head to your tongue and immediately shoved unto your throat. As Adam plunged unto your throat, Erin pushed violently into your stretched, swollen pussy.
They both let go of being gentle, fucking you roughly from both ends, your brain just melted into what you now knew to be affection from the two bulls. If you were turned into a cow for them. So be it.
You were reeling and losing your mind as they used you, your cunt gripped at Eric harshly as you came violently and squirted against the bench you were against.
This caused Eric to shove his knot in you, he cane quicker than he thought he could, he'd never had a pissy so good and he was so sensitive from the first use that it was so easy.
Adam, however, was not satisfied so easily, gripping your head and absentmindedly fucking roughly into your throat, his knot pressing against the your mouth. You did everything you could just like with the other, massaging his coks with your throat as you moaned and swallowed against him. He groaned and gripped your hair as his cock throbbed.
"Fuck- fuck- right there, fuck your tongue is so good!", He grunted as he pushed into your throat as far as he could and came down your throat, you swallowed against him, sucking on him like a straw.
He pulled out of your mouth and chuckled, petting your head softly. Both of the creatures bent down in front of you and littered your face with licks and kisses, both of them groping you softly and affectionately.
"You were wonderful, love. Thank you for your time." They left through the gate. They came in and pressed a button that closed the gate, a soft alarm sounded, and the Dr came in.
"Well, did you have fun on your first day?"
She smiled and carried a machine into the stall, a pump of some kind and attached the sucker's to your breasts.
You nodded haphazardly, and she turned on the machine. Your tits were so sensitive, but them finally being drained from being so heavy was so relieving. Your legs quivered and sme smiled up at you, crouched on the ground.
"Look at you! You took them so well. And you'll do this every day and be driven back to your apartment by an assistant. We'll have someone take your car back to the parking lot, and you can be picked up as well to make it easier. We just have to assign you a caretaker. If you don't mind, I'd like that to be me."
She looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, and how could you say no? Your tits were empty before you knew it, and she detached the sucker's.
"Look at all the milk you made! Wow!"
She sat it down to the side and gathered your clothes for you and wrapped you up in a robe shed briyght, helping you back to the little golf cart she used to get around. She helped you in and handed you your clothes to hold and put your milk container on the back.
She drove you to your apartment, letting you rest quietly. Once you arrived at your building, she helped you up the stairs and into your apartment, which she was given an extra key to. Sylvia helped you into your room and laid you down on the bed.
"You should rest for an hour and then take a bath to help relax your muscles and, of course, clean up. Have a good night."
She left you alone to your dazed thoughts. You sobered up from whatever shot she gave you and cleaned yourself up. You were so excited for tomorrow.
#dumb wh0re#bimbo hypnosis#dumbification#dumbimbofication#hypno fantasy#petpl4y#bimbo training#selfie#me#dumb bunny#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#monster romance#monster lover#monster kink#monster x human#monster x reader#monster x you#tw monsterfucking#monsterfucker#monster#🫁🫀roomfor2
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— coast2coast (pt. one) || l.s.k
pairing: life guard!leon kennedy x surfer!fem!reader
tags: surfing au! set in malibu, 1998, i wrote this with re2 leon in mind but re4 leon works too, featuring claire (and chris in later parts!), UNEDITED!! so far only fluff (unheard of...) i'll add as i go!
oh actually, my shitty attempt at knowing anything about surfing despite learning everything through youtube, google and malibu rising by taylor jenkins reid (what started this whole thing). i am NAWT a pro --- so if any of you guys actually know a thing or two abt surfing hit me up!!! i'd love to learn more!
summary: Summer is a fickle thing, sticky-sweet and fleeting, gone before you're ready. You've learnt to love it while it lasts. For you, every summer has been the same—surf, sand, salt-water tides and the hot Malibu breeze. But this summer brings a new sort of challenge, a spotlight your not so sure you're ready for, as well as a boy with golden hair, eyes as blue as the waves, and a way of making your heart rattle between your ribs like it’s desperate to break free.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: AHH HI! i'm so excited to post this one!! it's currently summer here in australia and i've been down at the beach nearly every weekend, so it was only inevitable that my fixation on surfer!leon came back full force. i have this big story all set up in my head, but i was too excited to wait to finish writing it so i'm posting it in parts!! ++ oh also i had no idea corral beach was an actual place in malibu so my version is fictionalised. just. take everything in this fic with a grain of salt i have no idea what im doing lol
i also thought it'd be really fun idea since i'm so busy nowadays, that if you guys are interested at all, you can send in little ideas for blurbs for surfer!leon, and i'd love to write them! i'll figure out ways to fit them into the story, just as little extras, but obviously no promises on writing all of them!! i'll likely just pick the ones i think fit best into the plot. i just think that'd be AWESOME!! <3
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playlist⭑masterlist⭑AO3 ⭑ series masterlist⭑next part (coming soon)
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California is exactly how you’d left it. Exactly how you remember it. Nothing has changed between the sand beneath your toes and the palm trees lining the scorching hot tar roads, their shadows stretching long and thin like sleepy cats in the afternoon sun. The salt-kissed air wraps around you, sticky and warm, a gentle reminder that time moves slower here. Or maybe it doesn’t move at all.
That’s the thing about California. A time capsule—sun, sand and sky.
June, July, August, Summer melts in your mouth like a sticky popsicle, one into the next, so quick you forget what it tastes like before it’s even passed.
No matter where you are in the world, what waves you're chasing, whether it be in Oceania, the Pacific, the Atlantic, summer melts, fickle and eager.
You’ve learnt to love it while it lasts.
“Another fish and chips!” One of the waitress staff calls from the front—Bunny’s Seafood Diner has been around for as long as you can remember, a weathered little gem perched off the coast of Corral Beach, Malibu. A quick and convenient right turn off the PCH, it’s a lighthouse for road-tripping families and sunburned surfers chasing their next ride.
You flip the fryer around your wrist with a practised flourish, “On it!” You call back, before you dip the metal back in the bubbling oil, the familiar sizzle of golden fries accompanying the bustle of the late afternoon rush. The kitchen smells of salt and grease and the faint tang of fresh-caught fish, a scent so familiar it clings to your skin like a second layer.
Claire breezes past with lazy grace, bumping her hip against yours. “Heading to the surf after?” she asks, her grin as wide as the beach outside, like her mouth was made for holding sweet oranges on hot summer days. She’s balancing a seafood basket in one hand and a plate of fries in the other, weaving through the bustle with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times before.
“How’s the forecast looking?” You ask back instead, tossing the crispy fries into a basket lined with deli paper.
“High tide in twenty,” Claire winks over her shoulder at you, side-stepping a counter corner like it’s second nature. “It’s gonna be perfect.”
You can’t deny that does sound perfect. After a shift as long as the one you’ve worked today, a surf might be all you need to feel alive again. You look back up at the foggy old clock on the wall—ten minutes left, five if you can sweet-talk your manager. You end up counting the minutes in your head, that familiar itch to feel the sand under your feet and the sun on your skin insatiable.
By the time the clock hits four, you’re halfway out the door, ready to trade the smell of fried seafood for the briny tang of the ocean instead. Claire is hot on your heels, boards tucked under both your arms as she chases you across the tar road that burns under your bare feet, down the splintering boardwalk, and onto the powdered-sugar sands of Corral Beach.
The sun has already dipped far past it’s zenith, and the world feels washed in gold. Golden rays stretch out across shimmering waters, painting streaks of honey over the horizon, the heat settling into a balmy hum that sticks to your skin in a way you can only love.
You follow the shaded path of sycamore trees until the beach opens up to surfer’s paradise—a long stretch of sand, waves that swell and crash, aching to be carved into by hungry surfers. The path curves past a weathered wooden bulletin board, been there as long as you can remember, and you think it might be older than Bunny’s, if that’s even possible.
“Wait!” Claire stops in her tracks, and you are helpless but to comply. Your eyes stay glued longingly to the beach while Claire’s squint at the array of flyers pinned up—some faded, some fresh. There’s a yoga class, a missing dog poster, and the usual surf report stapled to the corner, its ink smudged from damp fingers. But her eyes zero in on something bright and bold and new.
“Here we go.” She plucks a flyer off the board, turning it toward you like she’s struck gold. The words Corral Beach Annual Surf Comp are printed in big, blocky letters, accompanied by a grainy photo of a surfer carving into a wave.
“Oh, no,” you groan, already shaking your head.
“Oh, yes,” Claire says, a grin spreading across her face.
Claire’s been singing the same song since you were fifteen and cutting through waves better than most kids your age here on Corral Beach. That you should be out there winning trophies and medals and 10k cheques instead of cleaning out the back of the greasy old fryer’s in Bunny’s.
“C’mon, you have to do it!” She bugs on, waving the flyer around like some magic wand.
You laugh, ducking under her arm as she tries to push it into your face. “Claire, come on.”
“I’m serious!” she insists, jogging to catch up with you as you head toward the water. “You’re out here every day. You’ve got the moves, the skill—everything they’re looking for.”
It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. You’ve been surfing since before you could walk. You’d grown up right here on Corral Beach, knew these waves better than yourself. You’d watched your parents chase waves like it was their religion—Bali, Costa Rica, Australia, it was their entire life. Something they loved that was inevitable for you to love too.
“I’m just not the competition type,” you shrug, gaze drifting out to the waves curling in the distance. It’s not that you don’t want to—well, okay, maybe it is. The idea of standing out there, under the scrutiny of judges, crowds, and strangers, feels about as foreign as the first time you stepped onto a board. Surfing, to you, is about as religious as it is to your parents. An outlet, an art form, the ocean calms your restless soul when you need it most. Putting a score to something like that just doesn’t feel right.
“You’re one of the best surfers out here.” Claire presses, she does it so effortlessly. Poking and prodding, always enough but never so much as to push you over the edge. “Half the people in those comps are just there for a shot at a new wetsuit.”
You meet Claire’s gaze, hesitate, the memory of your dad paddling out at dawn or your mom teaching you how to duck dive flickering in your mind. “It’s not about that. My parents taught me how to surf before they taught me how to say mom and dad. They’d enter comps now and then, but it was never about winning. It was about the waves, the adventure.”
“And you don’t think that’s in you too?” Claire asks, raising an eyebrow as she shields her eyes against the sun.
“Maybe it is,” you say finally. “But that’s their story, not mine.”
Claire’s gaze softens for all of a second before she snorts, shoving your shoulder with her own. “You’re so full of it. You’ve got more talent in your pinky than most people out there. Just think about it, okay? It could be fun.”
You do nothing of the sort.
The second your feet are in the water, you forget all about the comp, all about your job and any other worries on your mind. Salt water seems to have that sort of effect on you. Wasting no time, both you and Claire paddle past the surf, straddling your boards in the ocean, watching as the other surfers before you take off one by one with each new wave that rolls in.
It doesn't take long before the first wave in a gorgeous set comes in, Claire’s all but primed for it. She takes off, gets into position, and pops up on her board, carving into it like it’s breathing. You follow suit as the next one comes in, and just like that, you fall into the rhythm of the ocean.
Wave after wave, you don’t stop until the sun is cotton candy pink, purple, gold. Most of the other surfers have dispersed by now, and Claire’s traded shredding the bigger waves for wading through the calm waters with her back pressed against the flat of her board.
You, on the other hand, feel like fate is decidedly on your side. You watch as another set rolls in, the first crashing just out of reach. It peels exactly as you’d hoped, slowly to the right, so when the next one rolls in right after, you paddle with it, catch the feeling of the tide underneath you, and like it's simply second nature, get to your feet.
This is where you feel most alive. There is not a second to spare for the other noise in your head, not about the past nor the future nor anything in between other than right here and now. Nothing but the instinctual insistence of how much longer can you stay on? How much longer can you keep your balance? Lean left, right, forward. Better, longer, more, more, more.
And when you’ve finally completed your balancing act, you dance up to the nose, hovering there on the tip of your board, arms out to steady yourself like sails catching wind, and then you close your eyes and let the crash of the wave topple you off.
It’s only once you’ve resurfaced, board nowhere to be seen, that you realise you didn’t feel the familiar tug of the leash around your ankle. By the time you drag yourself to shore, breath heavy and hair clinging to your face, you see it—the measly cord trailing behind you, frayed and snapped clean.
You huff a sigh, not surprised. It had been old crap for a while now. So had the board, but it carried enough summers in its scars to mean something. A history you weren’t quite ready to part with.
Claire’s already gathering her things by the time you meet her on the sand, shaking out her towel and tossing it into her worn tote bag.
“What happened to your board?” she asks, her tone casual, but her raised brow suggests she’s caught the fraying leash.
You lift your ankle and let the cord dangle, the sad state of it all the explanation she needs.
She winces, offering you a sympathetic smile. “Ouch. Guess it’s finally time for a new one?”
It’s only when you’re halfway up the beach that you spot it again. Your board? Your board!
It’s leaning lazily against the base of a lifeguard tower, looking as though it had simply wandered off and decided to wait for you all this while. Relief blooms in your chest, and you call to Claire that you’ll catch up.
It’s only when you’re closer that you notice him.
He’s standing by the lifeguard tower, a red rescue can slung casually over his shoulder. Blonde hair catches the light, tousled and damp like he’s been in the water himself. His broad shoulders are framed by the white-and-red uniform shirt that looks a little too crisp for someone who spends their day in the sun.
You can tell he’s new. There’s a hesitation in the way he stands, like he’s trying to look comfortable in a place he hasn’t quite claimed yet. But there’s something magnetic about him, the way he surveys the beach with quiet curiosity, like he’s soaking in every detail.
And you don’t mean to stare, but you’re caught in the moment, the way he looks like he belongs there despite it all, carved from the same sun and salt as the beach itself.
You’re still staring when his eyes meet yours.
They’re blue, impossibly so, the kind of blue that reminds you of the water when it’s so clear you can see straight to the bottom, the kind of blue you could fall into and forget how to breathe. His mouth quirks into a smile—easy, natural, like he’s been doing it all his life.
For a heartbeat, the world shifts, tilts ever so slightly, like the two of you are caught in some half-remembered dream. Something stirs in your chest, familiar yet unnameable, like déjà vu soaked in sunlight. You freeze, caught like a fish on a line, just before his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he lifts a hand in a casual wave.
“Hey,” he calls out, his voice carries over the sound of the waves, warm and low, and you think there’s a hint of the coast in it—just not this one.
You blink, salt-sticky and sun-drunk, realizing belatedly that you’re still rooted to the spot. “Hey,” you manage, shifting your weight on your feet.
He doesn’t move, but his attention is all yours now, quiet and steady, as though nothing else on the beach exists, like you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Nice ride out there,” he says, nodding toward the water, his voice dipped in easy admiration. “That last wave—you made it look easy.”
A laugh bubbles out of you, unplanned but genuine, a flush to your cheeks at the notion of being watched and noticed. You hope he mistakes it for sunburn. “Easy? You sure you weren’t watching someone else?”
“Nope,” he says, the smile widening just a fraction. “Definitely you. The board gave it away.” He says, nodding towards the board that’s still propped against the lifeguard tower like a loyal dog.
“Ah,” you say, realising. “So it was you.”
He shrugs, sweet and boyish in his sincerity. “Figured it deserved better than drifting out to sea.”
You glance down at your battered shortboard, the paint long faded from years of sun and surf. The edges are chipped, and the wax is uneven, but it feels like a part of you. “Thanks,” you say, meaning it. “Guess I owe you one.”
And before you can really think it through, the words escape you all at once. “You surf?”
“Not like that,” he hums, tilting his head toward the waves. Not like you. “Still trying to figure out how to make it look as easy.”
“That’s how it starts,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips despite yourself. “You’ll get there.”
He shrugs, a bit sheepish. “We’ll see. I’m mostly here for this,” he hefts the rescue can with a crooked smile. “Started lifeguard training last week. Figured I’d better get to know the locals.”
“Locals, huh?” You arch a brow, a subtle quirk to your lips. “And I’m one of those?”
“Definitely,” he grins, his voice sure now, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“Like this is where you belong.”
The words hang in the air, sweet and sticky like the heat of the day. For a moment, you don’t know what to say.
“Well,” you manage, recovering with a nod toward the tower. “Welcome to Corral Beach. Try not to let it chew you up and spit you out.”
He laughs then, and it’s warm, golden—like sunlight filtering through the trees. “I’ll do my best.”
He steps back, making space for you to collect your board, though his gaze lingers, like he’s reluctant to go but knows he should.
“See you around?” he asks, the question carrying a hopeful edge.
“Maybe,” you say, the word feeling light and easy as you turn toward the parking lot.
You don’t look back, but you feel his eyes linger, and it leaves a quiet sort of thrill in your chest, like the first rush of catching a wave.
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likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3
#spilled ink ₊˚⊹♡#IM SORRY IF THE ENDING FEELS UNFINISHED#AS I SAID I GOT SUPER EXCITED TO POST#updates will be slow as usual so im sorry about that!! that's why im hoping blurbs will be enough to fill the space in between if anybody#is interested of course#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy fanfiction#sweeterthanficstion#coast2coast#surfer!leon
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So the ADHD Handbook post struck a chord with a lot of people...
I don't think I have it in me to write the book I suggested, mainly because most of what I want to write about is variable by situation. I can't actually offer a magic formula for getting a good assessment, all I would be able to do is say "Here are the warning signs, here's my personal story, shit's just rough". Which I could do but it'd be basically an entire book of "shrug emoji". The best possible way would probably be to offer it as a workbook, like "Here is a page for you to record every communication with the clinic doing your testing. Here is a page for you to write down possible other approaches to getting your medication if the pharmacy is out." etc.
I do think I might write it as a novel of some kind. Possibly even a novel about someone writing a handbook, I haven't decided. I had a dream last night about the book, in which I saw a woman watching a revolution taking place in the distance, thinking, "This is not what I intended when I set out to write a self-help book." Baller way to start a novel, honestly.
Anyway there were several suggestions for books in the notes, so I thought I'd compile those here. I have read none of these, so I can't vouch for their contents, but I'm including what my readers said about them.
@blogquantumreality linked to How To ADHD by Jessica McCabe, who is a well-known ADHD youtuber (I haven't found her videos super helpful but they're also not aimed at me). @knitsinweirdplaces added "The last section of the How to ADHD book is literally called 'how to change the world' and exactly points out we can advocate for a more disability friendly world that traumatizes ADHDer less in the first place. It's the only book I've read that hits the balance of 'your brain has immutable challenges' and 'these strats may help' right. Bonus, it is inclusive of people who use adhd meds and those who don't/can't."
@theindefinitearticle mentioned "I read how to keep house while drowning recently and it's been much more practical for me in terms of actual usable advice." This book has also come up numerous times during National Clean Your Home Month as a helpful guide to cleaning.
@buginateacup said "The year I met my brain is the only one I've read that actually felt like it was making useful suggestions for living with ADHD."
@cabloom said "iampayingattention on Instagram wrote How Not To Fit In."
@grison-in-space said "Do you have any idea how over the top excited I was when I found I Overcame My Autism and All I Got Was This Lousy Anxiety Disorder?"
@doubleminorforroughing wrote "Please read Devon Price. He wants to tear it all down and I love it." I will add that I don't think I've read Laziness Does Not Exist but I have read Price's shortform work extensively and I think he's been very influential in rethinking how we frame laziness and productivity in relation to both work and neurodivergence, so I can second the recommendation.
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I have a hotch request and if you don’t write it I completely understand☺️
So you’re dating hotch for a couple months and you’ve only went over to his house like 5-6 times(so that’s how many times you’ve hung out with jack) anyway, you go to use the washroom or something before you leave to go home and jack asks his dad if you’re his gf and if you’ll be having a sleepover with them (as you’ve never actually stayed there before) and his heart becomes all warm n fluffy
A/N: Hi! I don't usually write for Hotch, but I decided to give it a crack because this fits pretty well for @imagining-in-the-margins KidFic challenge! It was a fun challenge to write, so thanks for the prompt! I changed it up slightly, but I hope you still enjoy it!
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, step-family dynamics, etc.
10 months of casual dinners, midnight strolls, and stolen kisses, and you still weren't ready to accept that you were in love with your boss.
Aaron Hotchner was a complicated man, and loving him wasn't as simple as your heart wanted it to be. You worked together but rejected any favouritism he may have shown you. You slept together, but you never stayed in his bed. You kissed him, but you never told him you loved him, even though you were sure you did.
You just weren't sure you were ready to be a stepmother.
As a child of divorce, you'd been graced with two step-parents growing up, and while neither were story book evil, they weren't exactly the most welcoming either. You'd bounced between your mother and father's houses, trailing duffle bags, afraid to take up too much space for fear of ruining your parents’ newfound and direly earned happiness.
Jack had the misfortune of being both a child of divorce and having lost his mother entirely too young and entirely too suddenly.
When you'd joined the BAU, off the back of Haley Hotchner’s death, Aaron had been a man in mourning, a man scarred by circumstance and regret. But he'd been brave, and he'd been loving, and he'd worked so hard to give his son a good life.
Five years later, and it seemed obvious now that you had at least respected the man from the very beginning, if not pined for him quite openly.
There was that final hurdle left to cross, though, and you weren't sure if you'd ever be ready to do so.
A phone call startled you out of your worries as you sat on your couch, dissociating after a long and hard won case. The shrill ring startled you into action as you frantically searched for wherever it was this time that you left your phone.
“Hello, yes, I'm here, hi,” you said, finally finding the phone abandoned under some couch pillows.
“Y/N, it's Aaron.”
“I know, Aaron. Caller ID, welcome to the 21st century,” You couldn't help smiling into the receiver, so smitten with the man your face was just doing whatever it liked.
“Right. Look, I wouldn't usually overstep like this, but Jessica and I have to go upto Roy's retirement house, he's not dealing too well with the new environments, and all of Jack's regular babysitters are enjoying the spring weather. I'd ask his friends' moms for an impromptu playmate but-”
“But you'd rather he be with someone you trust? Aaron, it's fine, I'll come over and watch Jack for a few hours.”
He sighed into the receiver, and after a few more niceties, you ended the call, still grinning like an idiot.
You were still grinning like an idiot when your earlier anxiety came back and hit you straight in the chest. You'd met Jack before, but you'd not so subtly avoided any kid based conversations and meet-ups for the last 10 months.
You had no idea how to entertain a nine year old boy, but you decided quickly that you couldn't half ass it.
The drive to Hotch's house was almost embarrassingly familiar to you now, having been there so often in the past few months. Jack enjoyed regular sleepovers with his aunt and schoolmates so you could enjoy regular sleepovers with his father, a fact that you had to remind yourself to keep private as you knocked on the door.
“It's open,” Aaron called from inside, and you hesitantly opened the door and stepped in, bag of last-minute toy purchases stuffed under your arm.
From the door, you could see Aaron in the kitchen, hands deep in soapy water as he washed lunch dishes and pots, sticking his head out to smile at you.
“Aaron Hotchner, domestic goddess. Who’d have thought?”
“I'd ask you to keep this to yourself at work.”
“Of course,” you said, stepping a fraction closer to him. “Anything to keep the mystery alive.”
He leaned in for a quick kiss, and you reciprocated, letting it linger a second as you smiled into his touch.
Drying his hands on a towel near him, Aaron called across the apartment for Jack.
“What's up, Dad?” He asked, peeking out of his bedroom door.
“This is Y/N. She works with me and Uncle Rossi. She's going to take care of you for a while while me and Aunt Jessica and I visit your Grandpa. Come say hi.”
Creeping out of his room slowly, Jack came to stand just in front of his father's legs as Aaron put his hands on his shoulders, proudly showing off his mini doppelganger.
“Hi, I'm Jack.”
“Nice to meet you Jack, my name is Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it. You noticed how small his hands were, but how strong his grip was. He was confident, but he was still just a small kid, and you were even more motivated not to mess this up.
“What's in your bag?” He asked, flicking his eyes down to it every few seconds, as if he was itching to stick his nose right into it.
“Jack, manners, please.”
“It's okay, Hotch. I brought some toys. Your dad mentioned that Santa's gave you a Nintendo at Christmas, and I thought I'd show you a few of my favourite games.”
His face lit up as he quickly stepped closer to you, hands on the bag as he waited for you to offer it up, now openly ogling the bags contents, knowing it was for him.
“You didn't have to bring anything, Y/N.”
“I wanted to make a good first impression.”
After being dragged to the nearest sofa and sitting through a five minute walk through of all the house rules, urgency exits and remote locations, you were left alone with Jack Hotchner, remotes in hand ready to play Mario Kart.
“Okay, now all that's left to do is choose the course you want to race on. Which one do you want to play on?”
Jack had chosen to use Bowser as his character and chosen Toadette for you quite cutely, and you'd quickly finished cart selection, too.
“We should go through them in order, so we complete them all,” he said after a moment of deliberation.
You giggled at how seriously he was taking it. And then the first race in the Mushroom Cup started, and you were seriously impressed by how quickly he'd picked up this game. Either kids were just better at video games in general, or you had a prodigy on your hands.
His serious face was a carbon copy of Hotch when he was hunched over paperwork, and he gave you the same quietly disapproving frown every time your character momentarily overtook his. It was adorable seeing the two reflected in one another.
By the shell cup, you were nearly exhausted, despite having spent the entire time glued to the couch.
“What do you think about taking a snack break?” You asked, looking over Aaron Jack, who had turned himself upside down on the couch somewhere in the last three matches and was still beating you.
“Okay. I'll show you where Dad hides the good snacks,” he said, quickly rolling off the couch as if his bones were liquid.
You, on the other hand, cracked as you stood, the irony not lost on you as you hobbled your way to the kitchen.
Opening the cupboard under the sink, Jack routed around for a few seconds before returning with a small box of Reeses Pieces, which you gradually accepted alongside a glass of apple juice.
“You're a good kid, Jack,” you said, ruffling his hair as he playfully swatted your hand away.
“Yeah, that's what my dad always says.”
“Your dad is a very smart man.”
He nodded and then went back to quietly eating his candy, somewhat lost in thought.
You weren't sure if you were supposed to ask him what he was thinking about, or avoid the topic and dive straight back into video games, so you just ate your candy, too, standing together in the kitchen, Mario Kart music playing in the background.
“Do you like my dad?” He suddenly asked, swallowing down one more bite of apple juice. You'd forgotten that kids were the bluntness people on the planet, not yet having learned the necessity of delicately creeping closer to the actual topic of discussions like adults.
Jack had landed a sucker punch right to your guy, and you were suddenly choking on Reese's Pieces.
“Umm,” you said, catching your breath again and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day on your face. “Yes, I respect your father a lot, Jack.”
“But do you like him?” He said again, eyes wide and expectant as he looked up at you.
“My dad can be a little scary sometimes. I heard some of my friends' moms saying so at Mitchell C's birthday party last week. They said he's scary, but he's so sad and lonely.”
Your heart sank in your chest as you watched Jack worry about his dad, worry if Aaron Hotchner was lonely or sad.
“Jack, your dad isn't lonely or sad. He has you, and Aunt Jessica, and-”
“And you, right? Because you like my dad?”
“R-Right. He has me, too.”
“Great. Let's keep playing. The Banana Cup is next.”
As suddenly as it had started, your serious talk with Jack was over and he bounced his way back to the sofa, clicking go on the next race, as you ran to quickly take your place again, too.
Five hours later, and you were being shaken softly awake, controller still in your hands as you blinked your eyes open. Somehow, it had gotten dark, and both you and Jack had simultaneously fallen asleep on the couch.
Now Hotch hovered over you, carrying the sleeping boy in his arms as he woke you up. He mouthed ‘coffee?’ and you nodded quickly, sitting up further and grabbing the nearest remote to turn off the Nintendo.
With Jack situated in bed quickly, you made your way to the kitchen. Aaron joined you after making sure Jack was still asleep, walking up behind you and wrapping two arms around your middle, leaning his head against your shoulder and exhaling. Despite the shiver down your spine, you leaned further into him, enjoying the feeling of him in your sleepy state.
“How was it?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. You were almost sure that he was conducting this conversation from behind as a means of convincing himself not to read into your every movement and expression.
“It was great. He's a great kid, you know?”
“So I've been told.”
“He's worried about you, too. He said the moms at his school think you're scary and lonely. Which in suburban house mom translates to romantic hero, though I don't think he realizes that.”
You felt the grumble of a laugh behind you, the sound low and comforting as you let your eyes flutter closed again, content in his arms.
“Jack…misses his mom. Rebecca is great, but he likes talking to the moms at school. Maybe a little too much, I don't know.”
“You miss her, too.” It was a statement, not a fact.
“I do,” he said sadly, holding you tighter. “Is that a problem?”
“No. No, god no. Aaron, I-” your voice broke, and you hesitated slightly, clearing your voice. You squirmed in his grip until he released you enough to face him.
Doing so may have been a mistake, though, as you locked eyes with him and so desperately wanted to kiss him, to claim his mouth with yours, and let him lift you onto his kitchen counters.
You squeezed your nails into the palm of your hands to ground yourself and took a steadying breath.
Which was when Jack decided to make a reappearance.
“Dad?” He said groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you had only moments earlier.
You quickly broke apart as Aaron smiled disappointedly, almost as if he were expecting the interruption.
“Hey, bud. Did you sleep well?”
Jack nodded, tilting his head a little as though still disorientated.
“Did I fall asleep on the couch?”
“Sure did. Both of you, actually.”
Jack looked at you then and smiled sweetly up at his dad.
“So Miss Y/N is staying tonight?” He asked, suddenly a little excited and expectant.
“Well, Miss Y/N has her own house, so we can't just expect her to-”
“Yeah, I'm staying,” you blurted out, cutting off Hotch mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored him and smiled down at Jack.
“And if you head back to bed now, I'll make some pancakes for you in the morning,” you whispered conspiratorially with the boy, who raced back to his room.
Before shutting the door fully, he stopped by his dad and tugged him down to whisper level, saying something before yelling goodnight and taking himself back off to his room.
“What? What was that?” You pouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Aaron.
“You first,” he laughed back, leaning on the nearby counter.
“I promised him pancakes in the morning. What did he say?”
“Oh, nothing,” he said, pulling you closer to him again. “He just said you had an interesting conversation earlier.”
“Was it the one where he asked me if Mario speaks English, Italian or Japanese, because I couldn't answer that question for sure.”
“He said,” he leaned down to your ear to whisper the next words. “That you told him you like me. And he thinks you meant like-like.”
You flushed hot and avoided eye contact. A childish part of you wanted to deny it, to scoff and run away, like you were on the playground and not in a dimly lit kitchen at midnight. But you couldn't.
“I do. But I'd probably say love and not like-like, seeing as though I'm not nine.”
“I love you, too,” he whispered, noses touching as he descended to capture your lips once more.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom
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pretty please can we have arthur morgan falling in love with hyperfem! reader? ur stuff is always so so yummy,, no pressure ofc! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
⭒✧⋆。guns n' bows ✧⋆。⭒
pairing: Arthur Morgan x hyperfem!reader
genre: fluff, slight angst (good ending)
summary: Arthur finds himself adoring a dainty woman who joined the gang a while ago. It suddenly becomes clear to him he has fallen in love.
word count: 3294
tags: high honor arthur, fem!reader, (mutual) pining, arthur being a sweetheart
a/n: thank u so much, dolly! i had a few ideas on how to approach this and decided to make it more story-based and focus on arthur's inner process as he realizes he's in love with the reader (as i would imagine it to go). if you'd like something a bit different, lmk! i've been wanting to write a hyperfem fic for a while now, so i had fun with it. also, i'm thinking about writing a pt. 2 where i'd focus more on the reader's pov and have arthur express his feelings more (be a cutie around her) and confess his love. <3
dividers by @saradika / @saradika-graphics
✮ masterlist
Arthur Morgan wasn't used to being gentle with people. His hands were rough and calloused and his muscle memory trained to draw his guns and shoot. They were meant to be a weapon, to protect and harm for the people he considered his family.
Perhaps he had it in him, but there was no reason to be soft and gentle – the world was just as rough as him and he was assigned the burden of fighting against it. The softest he could get was between the pages of his journal as he wrote about his thoughts and sketched owls and beavers and when he patted dogs and talked to his horse.
But most of those were away from prying eyes and frankly, the role of a dense criminal prized for his brawn comfortably fit around his overlooked qualities, as that was all he needed to be. To survive, to fulfill his role.
And yet you saw right through it. Of course you did, you had a good heart, open to whoever you saw goodness in. While some might write Arthur off as a rugged criminal only, you noticed his edges weren't as sharp as he tried making them seem to be.
His duties were violent, sometimes brutal, the earth soaking up blood of his enemies and his image reflecting in their eyes as the last thing before they closed them forever. To some, he was their biggest nightmare. He wasn't a good man, to believe so would be naive and foolish, but he wasn't all bad either, as some would think.
Your heart was big enough to accept his sins and leave the judgment to whatever was above, meanwhile you sought his presence as it brought you a strangely warm sense of security and comfort. Like moth to a flame, his different nature allured you. Hardened on the outside and soft-hearted on the inside.
Perhaps that was the reason you found yourself liking this big outlaw. Scooted towards him at the campfire, or sat nearby and watched him as he lied on his cot and scribbled something into his journal.
You might've been fragile and soft spoken, but you weren't stupid and your intuition on people was like a radar you could wholeheartedly trust. So you did.
Arthur didn't exactly know you sometimes looked for his presence, but he did notice you were comfortable around him.
It baffled him a little – you were so small compared to him, wearing lace and frills and cute little bows in your hair and yet you didn't seem to be intimidated by his appearance or demeanor at all. It sparked joy inside of him whenever you'd come to him blabbering about the rainbow you saw or gave him a soft smile as your eyes met.
You never treated him with judgment or revulsion, despite knowing very well your morals were against everything he was doing. Just how big of a sweetheart were you to do that? He never said it, but it meant a lot to him.
He felt as though you weren't even a part of all this. You were like a gem among roughened stones or a flower growing in gravel, reading in your tent and braiding your horse's mane while he washed blood off his hands.
And truth be told, because of that, he found you to be soothing and healing for his battered soul. It was so different, to be around someone like you.
You brought out a side of him he didn't know he had, one that was more tender than he was used to be. He didn't feel so angry or cynical, even after a job gone wrong. When he was with you, being gentle was easy.
At the beginning, when you first fell with the gang, it was doubt and hesitation he felt towards you. You were so... untouched by the world's cruelty, so innocent and open-hearted.
Arthur assumed you were naive and feeble, not only in the physical sense but mental as well. The world posed a huge threat to someone like you and he was worried you wouldn't survive in such circumstances. He was convinced you'd run after a few weeks but you did no such thing.
As the months passed, you stayed with the gang, patient and resilient while remaining soft and feminine. You helped where you could and offered a listening ear to anyone who needed it; even managed to get Arthur to open up to you when you two were alone. And you barely ever complained, even ate all Pearson's stews though you must've been used to eating fine food. And you lit up the space wherever you went. Your optimism was invincible. How the hell were you managing to do that?
It dawned on him he must've terribly underestimated you and his doubtfulness turned into admiration and intrigue. You were one fascinating little thing.
Things have been going quite downhill, so he kept checking up on you and you always had a warm smile to offer. You were still sweet and charming, even with the law on your tail.
You were his polar opposite, gentle waves of the sea splashing against hard rocks hot from the sun. Soft clouds concealing the sky after a raging storm. A calm rain on a hot summer day.
Arthur had no intentions of falling in love ever again.
But his heart was a sneaky little traitor.
Dusk softly illuminated the lake's surface when he found you sitting on the pier, your feet splashing in the water. You put your shoes beside you and held the skirt of your dress at your knees to avoid getting it wet. It was your favorite, white and pink, the corset decorated with little bows at the front. Your locks curled loosely over your shoulders, a light pink bow tying some of it at the back of your head.
You looked so vulnerable and cute lost in your thoughts like this, your feet creating creases in the water as you idly watched them. You had no company with you, only a couple of ducks swimming nearby and butterflies fluttering their wings around your head.
Arthur wondered what your mind was occupied with and before he could properly think it through, his steps directed towards your small frame lit by warm light.
You were pondering on the events of the past few weeks when the heavy steps on the wooden planks caught your attention. Turning your head to look up at the person coming, your eyes lit up as you saw it was your favorite one.
"Arthur!" you called out, your big doe eyes digging a pit in Arthur's stomach.
"[Name]. How are you?" His gaze lingered on you as he stood before you, his hands placed on the gun belt around his hips. You found the concern sweet. Instead of it being a casual phrase, his eyes studied you for an actual answer.
"Good, I think. What about you?" Your voice was smooth like honey and inviting, giving the outlaw something to lean into.
"'M alright," his voice rumbled as he shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Ya like this place?"
You shortly looked around, taking in the view of the trees and dim sky reflected back in the peaceful lake.
"I do, it's such a charming spot." You looked back into Arthur's face, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.
"'M glad to hear that."
You could almost hear his goodbye that would follow but before he had the chance, you spoke.
"Come on, join me." You patted the spot next to you and slightly turned your body towards Arthur when he sat beside you.
Arthur was a bit at loss of words, always quick with his witty responses but uncertain around you. Your flowery perfume overcame him, then the sight of your rosy cheeks and full lips. You looked like a doll, looking at him through your long lashes with the most innocent look in your eyes.
For a moment your company made him forget about everything. He felt like just a man instead of a sinner, leaning into the silent acceptance you provided him.
You swung your feet in the water. "What did you do today?" you asked kindly, no trace of judgment.
Arthur sighed, recalling the day's events. "Robbed a stagecoach, had to shoot 'em guards. Met a few of the O'Driscoll boys too."
He wasn't one to sugarcoat things, especially when there was no reason to. You knew what kind of person he was and despite you never expressing disgust, he knew you must've had certain sentiments of him and they were all true. He was no better than the crooks he fought. And yet, with you, he wished he was.
Your gaze found his hand resting over his knee, barely dried blood on his knuckles.
"Oh, Arthur!" You took his hand in his, examining the damage with focus as you held his palm with both your hands, yours small in comparison to his.
Arthur's breath faltered in his throat. A lukewarm feeling settled in his chest and slight panic ran through his mind as he was slow to realize just what was happening. The warm touch of your smooth fingers was unusually intensive and he wished for the moment to never stop, as if he ever cared for such things.
He felt silly for it. What was happening with him? Why did he feel such fondness at your delicate hands cradling his, the slight blush on your cheeks, the flyaway hairs around your head?
He furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar tightness in his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat picking up on pace.
He hasn't felt this way ever since...
"Your poor knuckles," you mumbled while gently running your finger over the bruises. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen them healed."
Your tone was nothing but caring, as if Arthur hadn't used the fist to break someone's jaw. You put his hand away, putting yours in your lap as you continued bathing your feet in the water and watching the thoughtful look on Arthur's face as he softly looked at you.
Arthur cleared his throat, chasing all the crazy thoughts away. "And how's yer day been?"
You tactfully ignored the change of topic and played around with your necklace as you spoke. "Well, it was alright. I've been doing chores almost whole day, then went to Rhodes for some supplies with Tilly and Javier. He also taught me a bit of one Spanish song!"
Oh did he? A pang of jealousy struck him. What the hell was wrong with him?
"Arthur, everything okay?" you asked, your brow furrowed at the sight of his troubled expression.
"Sure, 'm... just tired, that's all."
You nodded, looking at the sky coloring itself in blueish grays. "Yeah, I might go to sleep earlier today as well, I reckon."
Pulling your feet out of the water, you started putting on your shoes while Arthur stood up, offering you a hand by the time you were done. You smiled up at him and accepted his hand, being effortlessly pulled up to your feet.
"Thank you, Arthur."
Your voice wouldn't leave his head, even after you walked towards your tent, disappearing from his sight. He walked to his own one in a trance, left with many unanswered questions in his head.
This wasn't like him, even less to be so confused by his feelings. And yet, as he lay in his cot that night, he kept going back to the moment at the lake, imagining what it would've felt like to brush his fingers through your soft hair or cup your cheek.
Another heavy sigh.
Only yesterday you were still just you. A kind girl they had rescued when she had nowhere else to go, a young woman who–
No, who was he kidding. The warning signs had been there long before; the warmth in his chest whenever he saw you, that little jump his heart did when you said his name, the joy he felt when you asked him for small favors.
It gnawed at him, the sense of knowing he tried pushing away.
He fell in love with you. Somewhere along the way, without taking notice. As complicated and messy it would make things, in a way, admitting to himself the feelings he had for you felt relieving.
How was he so stupid not to realize sooner?
He loved the way you got excited over making flower crowns and how you'd weave some for the girls. He loved when he saw you consoling and comforting Karen into putting the bottle away, or even being kind to that bastard Kieran. He loved when he found you playing with Jack, letting him put flowers in your hair. He loved your feminine gaze, the one that would capture all his attention, or how your kindness towards him made him feel. As if there was still hope for him, as if he wasn't damned after all.
But there was a tight knot in his stomach. He might've set himself up for another heartbreak. How could you want someone like him?
Arthur fell asleep riddled with contradicting thoughts that night.
The new reality of being in love with you gave him a sort of solace. But it wasn't until morning that he decided he could only do one thing – keep his distance. For both his and your sake.
You were beautiful and dainty like a rose, but he was the thorns.
Arthur did as he promised to himself – despite the stolen glances and wishful thoughts split in half, he would avoid you, though it wasn't as apparent as he's been so busy lately. Not like he would complain about that, if anything, it took his mind off you, even if not for long.
Above all he wanted to return to camp after a difficult job and be close to you, talk to you, feel your calming presence.
What he didn't expect with his plan was how much it would wear him down.
But the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, which he assumed would eventually happen, or lose his head for someone who wouldn't reciprocate the same feelings back.
He returned to camp late today. In the middle of the night when everyone was already asleep. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in his cot, his shoulders slouched as he got down from the saddle and patted his horse a good night, unsaddling him to give him some rest too. The night was quiet and tranquil, like peace after a storm, given how Arthur's day went.
It has been weeks since Arthur had realized he had feelings for you by this point and looking towards the tents, he couldn't help but wonder whether you were alright. He hasn't been around much lately, so he could only guess you continued to be true to who you've been since the beginning. With ribbons in your hair and a dreamy look in your face.
He sighed at the image. What a lovestruck fool he was.
He missed your sleepy eyes and the little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you were confused.
As if something listened to his wishes, a small figure emerged from the shadows and he realized it was you.
Wearing your undergarments, bloomers with frills and lace, you made your way straight towards him. Your hair was in two braids tied by pink ribbons, though a bit messy from sleep, and the loose strands of hair tucked behind your ear.
He froze in place, watching you get closer while his heart went a little crazy. A part of him was happy to see you approaching him, whatever the reason for that was. It made him feel fuzzy inside and that scared him more than any gunfight.
"Arthur!" you called out for him with a slightly shaky voice, not stopping your steps until you stood right before him.
Arthur fought the urge to reach out for you as he saw you small and vulnerable, looking up at him with need, his heart struck with fear when he noticed the little tears in your eyes.
"[Name], what's wrong?" There was urgency in his voice, a worried look in his eyes and panic coursing through his veins.
You held a sob as you spoke, hugging yourself with your arms, a few of the loose strands falling into your face.
"J-just a nightmare. I woke up so s-scared." You started to shiver as you recalled the frightening images. As soft as you were on the outside, you had a vivid imagination and your nightmares could get very eerie and gruesome, causing chills to travel up your spine every time the memory flashed before your eyes.
Arthur's instincts now clutched his heart tightly, a knot tying itself in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this, helpless, afraid and trembling. The sight of you awakened every bit of his protective nature and he didn't want anything more than to hold you and never let you go, even put his life on the line just to keep you safe.
He didn't think twice.
"Aw, c'mere," he proposed in a low warm voice, enveloping you in his embrace gently enough to give you the option of changing your mind.
But you snuggled into the hug instead, a small sob escaping you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, your arms barely connecting behind his back.
He was so warm and firm and you have never felt safer in your whole life. The anxiety was slowly mellowed out, filling your heart with affection instead.
Arthur breathed in your scent and it made him feel lightheaded, and to feel your soft warm body pressed against his felt like a dream.
You were so delicate in his arms and your exposed skin made it hard for him to keep his thoughts straight. He was a gentleman of course, but his heart raced nonetheless and he feared you could hear it beating against your ear.
"It's okay, t'was just a dream." His voice was soothing and warm, and it worked like a charm. He consoled you with strokes on your back, his big palms hot through the thin layer of your undergarments.
"What horrible thin' did ya dream 'bout?" Arthur asked, his embrace not loosening around you. He was quite happy like this, protecting you between his arms, as if you always belonged there.
You kept your face nuzzled to his chest, comfortably leaning into the hug.
You started talking about the dream and he listened. A monster, you said, something big and deranged sneaking its way around to its victims. You rambled about the details, your descriptions a mess as you spoke in loose tangles.
Arthur slightly smiled at your stuttering, it made you even more adorable than you already were, though he didn't know it was even possible.
He would kill anyone who'd dare to touch you.
"'M the only scary thing 'round here 'm afraid," Arthur muttered, his chest rumbling under your head.
"As if," you retorted with your voice muffled, certainty in your disagreement.
It caught Arthur off guard a little and nervousness arose in him as he asked the following question. "You ain't scared of me?"
He knew if there was even an ounce of fear in you, it would've killed him.
You looked up at him, your eyes big and glossy. "I feel safe with you, Arthur."
His heart dropped and he looked into your eyes completely baffled, not grasping how such a sweet creature like you could say such a thing to him.
You felt safe with him.
You did.
He felt vulnerable under your gaze; not even heavens could make him feel so exposed. He was afraid you could read his thoughts with that pretty mind of yours as you held the eye contact, that you could recognize how much he was now melting and crumbling inside.
So much for being a tough hardened criminal.
He felt like a teenager again. The sweating hands, tingles in his stomach, it was all back.
Arthur tightened his embrace, cuddling you closer.
As he held you under the starry sky, your tiny arms wrapped around him, he was sure of one thing.
He could do many things. But staying away from you was not one of them.
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#rdr2 fic#arthur morgan fic#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan oneshot#rdr2 fanfiction#rdr2 oneshot#arthur morgan fluff#☆ annie writes#☆ reqs
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Breeding Kink | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 1,008
No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI
Warnings! Oral (fem receiving), unprotect p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, mentions of pilot death, lmk if I missed anything
a/n: this isn't the story I thought I'd write but it's what came out when I put my fingers to the keyboard???
Ao3
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
Bradley had been back from deployment for two days, having spent that time sleeping and eating as much of your cooking as possible. This deployment had been rough, he had been sent out on a sixth month mission that had taken a year to complete with only intermittent communication home, and one of the other pilots had burned in around the eight month point, something your husband was having a hard time recovering from.
The two of you were laying in bed, Bradley’s head on your chest, his calloused hand resting on your stomach. You lazily carded your fingers through his hair, which had grown longer while he was at sea, texting with Phoenix about plans for brunch that weekend. Bradley started to rub wide circles over your stomach, tickling you.
“Roo,” You giggled, “What are you doing?”
“Thinking,” Bradley shifted so that he was laying between your legs, both hands resting on your stomach. You put down your phone, freeing your hands to rest them on his shoulders.
“You want to talk about it?” Bradley didn’t respond right away. You patiently waited for him, watching him as he cradled your stomach, pressing soft kisses all over it.
“Freighter had two kids waiting for him back in Missouri,” Your heart broke for the pilot and his family. Your worst nightmare was getting a knock at your door while Bradley was deployed, men in uniform waiting on your porch to tell you that he wasn’t coming home to you. “My mom used to say that I was the only thing that really helped her get through my dad’s death.” Bradley looked up at you with sad eyes, still holding your stomach.
You knew what he wanted to do. The two of you had talked about having kids one day, when the time was right. The idea of getting your pregnant usually drove Bradley wild, leading to spur of the moment sex around the house, nothing but pure filth leaving his mouth. It was hot as hell every time but you had never really gotten into it to the level your husband had. Except what he didn’t know is that you had gone off your birth control a few months ago.
“I want to have a kid with you, sweetheart,” Bradley whispered, eyes flickering downwards, not meeting yours. “Not just because I might not come home one day because I’m going to do everything I can to come home but because I think we’re going to be the best parents.”
“Then let’s do it, give me a baby, Bradley.”
The look of surprise on Bradley’s face was precious. You wanted to snap a picture of it but before you could reach for your phone, Bradley was kissing you hard. You sighed into the kiss, spreading your legs so he fit more easily between them. You were wearing one of his shirts and underwear but both pieces of clothing quickly ended up on the floor alongside his pajamas.
“I love you so much,” Bradley kissed down your neck, between your breasts, paying special attention to your stomach.
“I love you too,” You moaned as he settled between your legs, placing your legs over his shoulders. Bradley ate your pussy like a starving man, obscene noises filling the room as he licked and sucked, sliding two fingers in when you were wet enough. After a year of no sex, it was a mix of pleasure and pain but you were dying for more.
“So fucking good,” Bradley kissed the inside of your thigh, “Missed you so fucking much.”
“Missed you,” Your back arched as he pressed in a third finger. “Gonna cum,” Bradley doubled his efforts, rushing you towards your climax, and he didn’t stop when you reached it. Bradley kept going until you were pushing him away, overly sensitive after so long apart.
“Think you’re ready for me?” You tasted yourself on his tongue as he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. “You ready to have my baby?”
“Please, Lee,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I want to have a baby.” Bradley notched himself at your entrance then paused, giving you a serious look.
“Are we actually about to do this or are we just practicing?” You could tell this was important to him, he’d be okay with either answer because he loved you, but he wanted this to be the real thing.
“I’m not on the pill anymore,” You promised, leaning up for a kiss. “We’re going to have a baby.”
“Fuck yeah we are,” Bradley’s kissed muffled your moans as he thrust into you in one quick stroke, his cock stretching you, filling you completely. “Gonna put a baby in you,” He promised, setting a deep, steady pace that had your back arching and toes curling. “I’m going to fill you up and fuck my cum back into you, make sure it takes.”
“Fuck,” You gasped as he pulled your hips, shifting you into a position that let him hit even deeper inside of you.
“You’re going to look so pretty, tummy all swollen with your baby.” Our baby. Those words hit you like a ton of bricks. You were going to have a baby with Bradley and you were over the moon. “Shit, I’m not gonna last.”
“Cum inside me, baby,” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Give me a baby.” Bradley reached between you, rubbing your clit until you were right there on the edge with him.
“Cum for me, honey.” And you did, falling over the edge of your second climax, Bradley following right behind you. The warmth of his cum filling you with the possibility of getting you pregnant was overwhelming, the sensation heightening your orgasm that much more. “That’s it, honey. Milk my cock, take every fucking drop.”
When Bradley finally pulled out he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your hips, keeping them angled up so nothing leaked out.
“I love you so much,” He kissed you sweetly, “So, so, so much.”
Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27 @cevansbaby-dove @runawaybaby3 @helloitzholly
“I love you too, Roo.”
#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#bet writes#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster x y/n#rooster smut#rooster x reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober
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Hiiii, thank you so much for all of these they are so wonderful.
I would love something with Tommy and maybe 30? "You're not hurt are you?"
Was thinking maybe Tommy comes home after a particularly trying day and just flops onto the couch. Y/N comes home from food shopping shortly after and finds him and is concerned for him. They can be either married or whatever you see fit.
Uhmm I'd love it to be nice and fluffy, and I know you said you're not into writing shut sooo just go as heavy as you feel comfortable with and coat it with fluff and I'll be happy. >w< thank you so much I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to be part of this celebration with you! 💜
Thanks so much for sending this in, @chumon ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I absolutely love this idea (thanks for adding some more detail to it…it made it easy to follow). I hope you like what I did with it! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
Never Tired For You
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: a slightly suggestive conversation/situation
Word Count: 1153
Summary: (Y/N) finds Tommy laying on the couch and immediately thinks the worst…he couldn’t just be laying down, right?
Tommy was tired. It had only been two days into his two week stay in London, and he already felt exhausted by the numerous meetings he had to carry out. There was so much to keep track of: the on-going deal with Alfie Solomons and all of the turns that took, making sure Arthur continued to keep things in line at the Eden Club, and keeping tabs of whatever Inspector Campbell was going to have him do next.
Somehow he managed to carve out an afternoon to himself. He was hoping to spend it with his wife, (Y/N), who had joined him on this trip — against his own volition — but upon returning to his sister’s home, he found that she wasn’t in.
So he decided to lay down on the couch. Yes, Tommy Shelby actually took a moment for himself so that he could rest. No, the world didn’t come to an end. But he actually managed to find a position comfortable enough that made him want to stay on the couch.
(Y/N) had been out grocery shopping. She realized that Ada needed a few things, and so with nothing better to do she set out and ran some errands.
The surprise that was waiting for her back at the house just about made her drop the basket she was carrying. Never had she seen her husband laid out on the couch — especially in the middle of the day. The sight of it alone was enough to get her mind running in overdrive.
“Tommy? What’s happened?” she got right to the point as she hurried over to the couch he was laying on.
“Huh?” he asked in confusion, beginning to move from his laying position so that he could sit once more.
“No, don’t move,” she rushed to stop him, her one hand extended in his direction, “you’re not hurt, are you?” Asking the question made her heart drop. She’d did a quick scan of his frame and found nothing glaring at her, but she couldn’t be too sure.
“No, love, I’m not,” he shook his head, continuing with his motions of sitting up, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I was just laying down,” he told her then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could slide one between his lips.
The second half of his statement made (Y/N) audibly gasp. There’s no way that Tommy Shelby would willingly lay down, she thought to herself incredulously. “Ok now I’m worried, Tom. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” he chuckled at her worry, “there’s not a scratch on me. I’ve just had a long day is all,” he made another attempt to quell her concerns. The look on her face told him that she didn’t quite buy it. “Would you like to check for yourself?” he asked then, his one eyebrow quirking upwards as a grin teetered on his lips.
She could tell by his facial expression that his question was leaning on the suggestive side of things. Just the thought of what he was hinting at made heat rush to her cheeks. His cheekiness was one of the things she loved about him.
“Hmm?” Tommy cut into her thoughts, looking up at her through his eyelashes as he waited for her response.
“No…” she trailed off, biting her bottom lip to conceal her grin when she saw a tinge of disappointment fill his features, “I think I’ll believe you. And besides…you said you had a long day,” she called back to his previous statement.
“I had a long day…doesn’t mean I’m too tired for me wife,” he reminded her, the previous glint returning to his eyes.
“Maybe later,” she decided, her grin growing to match his.
“C’mere then,” he beckoned, leaning back against the couch as he placed the cigarette between his lips again.
“Let me put these away first,” she answered him, lifting the basket she was still holding. He nodded in response and she went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Moments later, she was back in the front room curled up into Tommy’s side. “So you’ve really only had a long day?” she couldn’t help but bring their previous conversation up again.
“Yes,” he answered, his fingertips absentmindedly dancing over the skin of her arm. “Arthur’s losing it at the club again…I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him.”
“Give him another chance,” (Y/N) suggested, lifting her head from his shoulder when she felt his eyes on her. “I mean it,” she doubled down on her stance, her eyes locked with his.
Tommy pursed his lips and thought about her comments for a moment before he let out a breath and looked to the windows.
“I’ll drop it,” she broke the silence, realizing that his mind was going again. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. “Let’s go back to just sitting here.”
After speaking, she turned on the couch so that she was able to straddle his lap. His hands quickly found their home on her hips, and his eyes were immediately back on hers as the mischievous glint returned.
“Just sitting here, eh?” he questioned her with raised eyebrows.
“I’m sitting,” she grinned, her hands finding his cheeks before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Tommy’s hands moved to press flat against her back as their kiss deepened, bringing her body flush against his.
“If this is what it’d be like…” he breathed as they pulled away just slightly, “I’ll have to start coming home early more often.”
“If you hold up your end of the bargain, I’ll hold up mine, Mr. Shelby,” (Y/N) pulled further away from him so that he could see the smile present on her face.
Their lips met again, teeth clashing and tounges pressing together as they became lost in their embrace. Tommy tried to be sneaky with it, but (Y/N) pulled away when she felt him start to unbutton the top of her dress.
“Not so tired anymore, hmm?” she questioned, a suggestive glint in her eye as she sat up straight, her hands running down his cheeks so that she could settle them on his shoulders.
“Never tired for you, love,” he husked, his eyes blown with lust as he managed to continue with his mission despite her breaking further away from him.
“Let’s go to our room then. I don’t think Ada’d want us to do this on her couch.”
That was all Tommy needed to stop what he was doing and drop his hands from her frame. “Go on, then,” he nodded his head to her, “lead the way.”
(Y/N) wasted no time in standing from his lap. She waited for him to stand also before she gingerly took hold of his hand and led him to the steps and up to their room.
*tags in the reblogs so they’ll hopefully get sent out
MASTERLIST
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby blurb#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot
no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)
pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))
(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)
Ao3 Link
A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3
Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world.
Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name.
A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents— were destined for a life of simplicity.
It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips.
Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away.
It never came.
Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter.
He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age.
By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones.
Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.
And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.
Her father had found her a suitor.
The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry.
The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all.
Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone.
Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different.
And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.
A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.
She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.
He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots.
Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman.
Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her.
But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together.
They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man.
Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core.
But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.
Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded.
A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.
Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor.
The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint.
Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do.
A very strange wedding indeed.
It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented.
As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest.
Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled.
He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea.
Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her.
Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…
That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.
She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”
The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them.
When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife.
“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.
She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.
She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.
“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.
Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home.
Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.
She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that.
“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood.
“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time.
“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night.
She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years.
The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to.
He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry.
A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.
~
Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.
Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers.
Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband.
However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.
She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life.
Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.
It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?
The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.
Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.
She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work.
“Welcome home.”
Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.
“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”
Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in.
He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.
“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”
“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”
She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.
As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.
“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of.
“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.
Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes.
“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.
Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.
“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.
“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.
“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating.
That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.
He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.
No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.
Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do.
So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well.
Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.
“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.
Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon.
She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name.
And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks.
“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.
“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”
So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it.
Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.
~
The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary.
At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.
And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone.
Joel.
The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.
She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone.
However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it.
There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.
Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.
She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived.
Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.
Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.
It was a sight to behold.
Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?
He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her.
Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.
She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.
Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer.
But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage.
So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?
In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.
Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest.
He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?
Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?
When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.
So he was not expecting this. Not at all.
“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.
“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.
Busted.
Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.
“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.
Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.
They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.
~
The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help.
He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day.
Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance.
As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner.
What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her.
Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together.
She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much.
Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?
And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?
She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night.
There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel.
Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst.
She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves.
Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.
Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob.
When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease.
It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface.
There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.
There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum.
But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)
It was a picture.
Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white.
Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.
“What are you doing?”
It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet.
The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor.
“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.
“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.
“Don’t.” He snapped.
“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.
And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.
Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness.
And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name.
She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.
Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.
“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.
“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.
“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there.
“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?
“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.
“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.
“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest.
The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.
“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.
“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.
And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said.
So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.
“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.
“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.
“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.
“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”
Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.
“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.
“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.
“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.
She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question.
A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.
“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.
“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—”
A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.
“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”
And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.
“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.
It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.
“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”
His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon.
“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower.
She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.
~
A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.
It was a bit frustrating to say the least.
And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.
So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.
But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.
It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.
And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing.
She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…
Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.
Would she ever get what she was hoping for?
Maybe she could, if she was brave enough.
The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition.
He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.
Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?
They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night.
Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.
Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom.
“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do.
“What’s wrong?” He inquired.
As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of.
Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.
Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.
He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going.
In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants.
Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.
She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.
A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him.
His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.
The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin.
Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.
Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.
“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”
She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself.
Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.
~
Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.
It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.
But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.
Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone.
And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.
Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.
She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat).
How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction?
Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.
The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing?
The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.
Or at least until he returns home.
But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant.
And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.
It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles.
It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.
But it didn’t help.
In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.
She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.
But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.
The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it.
Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder.
Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.
Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.
Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.
The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving.
He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.
“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.
“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”
“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”
“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.
Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.
A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust.
“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”
“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”
Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”
His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.
He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.
“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath.
“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”
“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time.
“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”
“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.
“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.
“I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”
She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.
“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult.
“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”
This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.
Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own.
She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible.
And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline.
Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.
Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved.
Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.
Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this.
He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.
“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple.
It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.
A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.
Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.
“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin. “D-don’t do that, darlin’.”
Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”
He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”
“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”
She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements.
“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”
“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.
“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”
His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.
“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.
A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”
“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.
Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.
Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.
“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress.
“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”
He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition.
“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted.
So he did.
Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him.
He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin.
Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.
“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.
It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.
“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake
“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.
Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her.
At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form.
Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place.
Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting.
She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.
And as it turned out, eventually he would.
Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.
The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down.
Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs.
She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.
And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.
“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.
“I— um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.
“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.
“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away.
“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”
Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.
“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.
“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss.
Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.
It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon.
She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.
Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely.
Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm.
Three days came and went.
Joel had yet to return home.
Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.
Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.
She was eating her words now.
It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.
The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred.
She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.
“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.
“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.
“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”
Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste.
She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.
It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…
She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon.
The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did.
When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.
It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.
But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable.
Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.
It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on.
Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.
She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.
His name fell desperately from her lips.
Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises.
His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him.
He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.
“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace.
She didn’t seem to mind.
They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.
They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter.
And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls.
Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands.
Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.
His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.
“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”
Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips.
At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek.
“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”
“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”
He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”
The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own.
“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.
She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.
“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for.
Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.
It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment.
“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.
In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation.
And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.
~
Joel was up before the sun.
As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.
Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.
He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.
Y/N.
She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.
The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.
Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her.
When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos.
Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs.
Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life.
This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..
And he had no idea what he was supposed to do.
Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.
For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world.
He had to get out of this bed.
Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth.
Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.
~
To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.
That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay.
She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work.
Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time.
Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.
And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town.
But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape.
Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.
Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?
She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks.
She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it.
It was love.
And it hit her like a ton of bricks.
Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying.
Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.
Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!
The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.
~
Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.
He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.
A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.
But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.
He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.
The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.
It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?
Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.
“Joel?”
His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.
“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.
“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.
“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”
“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”
“Why?”
She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips.
“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.
Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair.
“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.
“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”
His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man. As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.
“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”
“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer.
Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.
“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.
Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.
“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.
“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.
“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.
“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”
As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.
“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.
“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”
“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”
“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss.
It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.
“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.
“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”
His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.
“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.
“Me too.”
And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for.
Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.
“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch.
“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.
His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin.
Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.
Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed.
Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing.
She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.
“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.”
Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.
He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”
A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.
He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.
“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”
Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.
“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.”
“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next.
And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same.
He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.
The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.
He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.
Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness.
She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt.
All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.
“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal.
“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds.
“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.
“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.
“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties.
“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.
“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.
“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core.
“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself.
They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.
“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare.
“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her.
He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.
“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”
An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.
“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”
“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.
“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”
“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.
“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.
“Yes.” She said, her voice small.
Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.
“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.
“Will it hurt?”
“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”
Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her.
“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady.
“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.
“As you wish.” He replied, in the same hushed tone.
Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time.
His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him.
“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment.
Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.
Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it.
And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her.
Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle.
“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.
“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.
Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.
Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.
His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.
That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end.
Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky.
“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back.
“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man.
“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair.
Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him.
“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.
“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.
“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said.
“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.
“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”
“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.”
A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.
Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.
And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.
Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.
A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him.
“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.
“Really?” She squeaked.
“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.
He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.
She gasped at the sight of it.
His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal.
And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.
Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches.
She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation.
Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.
“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.
“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered, “‘m only returning the favor.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”
“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip.
“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.
She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her.
Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.
Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.
“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”
And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here.
“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment.
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there.
“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”
“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”
“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.
Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips.
“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.
Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation.
“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.
Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.
She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.
“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.
“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.
Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel.
“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.
“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.
“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.
“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”
“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach.
Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock.
She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.
“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”
“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing.
“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”
Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.
“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”
“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”
And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.
Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.
The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to.
The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching.
His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo.
Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.
“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.
Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.
Except for one thing.
“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.
Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.
He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.
Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife.
His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest— not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.
“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.
They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.
“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.
“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.
“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.
“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him
“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.
“We still have to make dinner.”
And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name.
~~~
A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33
#joel miller#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel x reader smut#joel tlou smut#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x you smut#joel miller x y/n smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#The Last of Us x reader#tlou x reader#the last of us x you#tlou x you#the last of us x y/n#tlou x y/n#the last of us smut#the last of us x reader smut#the last of us x y/n smut#the last of us x you smut#tlou x you smut#tlou x reader smut#tlou x y/n smut
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Same anon who gave the 5 ideas here.
I'm so happy you loved my ideas I'm so happy!🥹 (I feel a bit anxious about asking, I'm not good at social media cues so I normally just read in silence)
I do have some more ideas that I didn't want to put so my post will not be too long. And I want to share them with you.
1. (I don't know if I gave that one yet or not) Reader and their friend (s) being game development studio. it'll also make sense because Reader knows how to code and hack and because they know psychology, that will help them develop great characters and storylines that will touch people hearts in both good and bad ways.
2. If the Reader ended up teaching their friend to code and hack (especially hack) that will show a great deal of trust in them because in reality hackers don't trust each other and it's hard to make a hacker teach you hacking.
3. (Connected to 1) The first game reader and their studio made was bad (but the idea of it was good) because they were just training and trying and decided to let the world see it and judge, criticize, give advice. They even asked for advice on how to make games in the first place and it ended up with some cyberbullying, but more people given a lot of advice, from other game developers, authors, artists, and every random stranger on the internet you can find, Some were from the Batfam. The studio listened and made the game great in the end, making it one of the most downloaded games. And one of the biggest reasons is the fact that people love having a part in making something, it makes them feel connected to that thing. (Maybe that was the reader's idea using the knowledgeable psychology.) imagine the reader seeing Tim praising their game to one of the bat siblings not knowing that one of its makers are living with him. Imagine when he finds out.
4. When Alfred notes that reader doesn't seem to be chasing the families approval anymore and seems to find their peace of mind and healing he feels happy for them, because them being happy makes his job easier and he still cares about them somehow (even when they are at the bottom of his list of priorities).
5. I don't know if the reader will move out or not but imagine if the family of the friend help them move out, get a job if they don't have one? move to college?
6. Imagine the Batfam finding out that the reader spends every holiday and occasion one should spend with their family with the family of their friend for years apon years. Imagine them breaking into the house of the family of the friend and finding so many family pictures with Reader in them were either seem to fit in perfectly like this is the true family. Finding they almost have no picks with Reader, and even the only family photo reader was in with the Batfam, the reader is there at the corner, with some space between them and the batfam.
7. About the funeral of the father friend of the reader. Imagine the reader talking about the father stepping in the shoes their own father refused to step in. How he did teach them every single thing a father is supposed to teach his child, and more. And how even though this man is not their father by blood he is their father in every other way and no one can replace his place in their heart.
Thank you for reading I hope it's not that long
And can I be known as "anon 🌞"?
Ahhhh 🌞anon tysm for sharing more of your brilliant ideas! Like i said i love hearing from my readers whether its good or bad things because i know i can always improve and add onto my original idea and Jesus you don’t disappoint. thank you for another set of amazing ideas! Honestly don't be afraid to send in any kind of ask (though i do know its easer said than done😅).
This totally makes sense and its a really good idea! I'd love to include this in my story but if it doesn't fit i can always write another fic later with this plotline.
This is really smart i never thought of it that way. You're so clever!
This is very detailed, I've said this to 🍰anon but you should definitely consider writing this! I'd love to write my version of your concept but you know the concept better than me and I'd totally read your idea! If you still want I can still write it for you after i finish my main fic!
This is a good perspective on reader and Alfred's relationship but I already have something in mind. thank you for sharing though!
Wow are you a mind reader or am i just that predictable😅. I was actually planning on doing this so good on you for figuring it out!
OMG as always you have such good angst ideas! I love the idea of the Batfam being jealous of friend's family.😂
Ahhh you did it again! I absolutely love this idea! Again if you don't mind I'll probably use it.
Don't you worry about the length of your asks I love your ideas! Feel free to ask anything 🌞anon have a good day/night!
#x reader#yandere batfam#batfam#neglected reader#yandere batboys#yandere batfam x neglected reader#yandere platonic#barbara gordon#batman#bruce wayne#damian wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#alfred pennyworth#answered#anon ask
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Request from @bisexuawolfsalt: May you please write a Bucky x virgin!reader who’s never been able to get herself off?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female virgin!reader
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: masturbation, fingering
Everything about you was different. You'd always felt it. You never fit in with the people you'd grown up with. Friends had never felt close. You were sheltered, your parents had a habit of being overprotective, helicoptering over you until they were in a fatal accident just before your eighteenth birthday. That's when things changed for you, not just what you'd lost, but your body too. You were different, but not in the way you'd thought all your life. You were powered. You kept to yourself throughout college, barely keeping anyone around you as more than an acquaintance. Relationships were a foreign concept to you, be it one of friendship or romance. You'd experienced neither.
That was your story, until you found yourself in New York City in the middle of a Chitari invasion. When you back up an Avenger with your powers, you get noticed. Tony Stark found you and brought you in. It took some convincing, you weren't ready, you were afraid. You'd hidden yourself with a job in the New York Public library. But eventually you agreed to move into the Stark Tower.
That's where you first met Bucky. You had gotten to know Steve, Natasha, and Tony pretty well. Steve had come to knock on your door one day and brought Bucky with him. He had returned from Wakanda, free from his Winter Soldier programming. He didn't look as frightening as people had described him. There was a kindness behind his brilliant blue eyes, an intelligence and a sadness that drew you in. He was a solitary soul and so were you.
You felt comfortable in his presence. He said very little, in fact he barely made eye contact initially. Steve had encouraged him to make a friend and Bucky had chosen you, you didn't pester him about his well being, didn't cajole him about attending therapy, in fact you didn't bother him at all. You were the perfect friend. These were the reasons you believed Bucky had chosen you.
In reality Bucky couldn't get enough of being around you. He was drawn to you and you to him. Finally he had confessed his feelings to you and you had kissed him. Only Steve knew about your relationship with Bucky, you kept things private. You spent all your down time with Bucky but the two of you hadn't slept together, yet. Bucky had insisted that you wait until you were ready, after you'd told him that you hadn't been in any relationships in the past.
Today hadn't been any different from any other, not really. You'd spent time training in the gym with Steve, you'd done some reading, having decided to pursue a medical degree with your interest in science. You had a lot to learn, but you decided to take a break and grab yourself a bit of food. You walked into the kitchen where a group of SHIELD agents were also eating and talking. You blushed profusely when you heard their topic of discussion… masturbation!
“I love my Lioness. I swear if men’s penises were made with a vibration setting, I'd actually consider being with one,” one of them mused.
“Oh sweet girl, I’ve been married for five years, and let me tell you, sometimes only you have the means to get the job done. I mean I love my human dildo, but the rubber one gets the job done much better. It's got a suction up, so just slam it against the wall and go to town on it," her older colleague chimed in.
"Ah, you kids and your new fangled inventions and toys. I'm pretty old school, my fingers have been doing the job just fine for me all these years. Batteries not included," she smirked.
Their words made you blush, you had no idea what a Lioness even was, you cowered in the corner trying not to eavesdrop. The last thing you wanted was to be involved in this conversa-
"Hey!" You heard Piper, one of the agents calling your name. "What's your preference?"
You mostly kept to yourself, the other agents had no idea of your childhood or your lack of experience and you'd kept to yourself to avoid questions exactly like this.
“I - ummm…” you started stuttering nervously, eyes darting around for an excuse to avoid answering the question. You hoped no one would notice you biting your lip and wringing your hands with anxiety. “You know…”
“Come on girl, are you saying that hunk of yours is that good?”
“What?” You were shocked by Piper’s comment.
“Barnes, is he as good in bed as he looks like he would be?”
“What-”
“You don’t need to pretend, we’ve seen the two of you holding hands and smacking lips.”
You blushed, you had no idea that other people were aware of your relationship. But they couldn’t know that you hadn’t sealed the deal, could they?
“You have to give us some details,” they laughed good naturedly. “Is he that good that you don’t need to … you know, take care of yourself every now and then?”
There was no malicious intent in their questions, they were just making jovial conversation and including you, but you just wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. You wanted to tell them that Bucky was good, but you knew that they weren’t asking if he was a good person, they wanted to know if he was good at sex. You weren’t so out of touch with the world that you didn’t know what they were insinuating.
“He’s an amazing person-”
You were cut off by their beepers sounding off at the same time. Saved by the bell.
“See you around.” They smiled and winked at you as they left to see to their duties.
A silent sigh of relief escaped your lips as you gathered your meal and sat down in the vacated dining area. Your heart was no longer pounding on the inside of your chest, but your brain was in overdrive as you ruminated over the conversation between the agents. Without realizing it, you were thinking about what masturbation would actually be like.
You weren’t completely innocent or devoid of sexual urges, you had admired both handsome men and beautiful women, some of whom had even had you aroused. But you hadn’t dared act on those urges, mostly because you had no idea how and you were too ashamed to ask anyone you did know. You felt embarrassed that you had reached the age that you were without having had any real sexual encounters. You had been hesitant to explore your own anatomy, even in the privacy of your own home and now you’d reached the point in your life where you were too afraid to try it alone.
Your lunch remained half uneaten as you pondered your dilemma. Your interest had definitely been piqued and you started thinking about Bucky. He had been patient with you and your reluctance to engage in more intimate behavior. He had been incredibly understanding when you’d admitted to him that you were a virgin and hadn’t pushed you into any kind of non consensual conduct.
Everything you’d seen on television or read about, the act of sexual intercourse, the pleasure that came from an orgasm, you wanted to know how it felt. You felt a stirring between your legs at the very thought. But where would you get the information to do things right? You had so many questions. You thought about looking online but the computers in the Tower were all networked, and JARVIS had the ability to look into any search history. The thought of someone finding out terrified you. No, you would have to try something else.
This brought your thoughts around to Bucky. After careful consideration, you determined that Bucky was probably the best person to discuss your areas of learning. You knew that he was a little more experienced than you were and if you were to share a future with him, you would eventually engage in more intimate activity. So he would be the perfect person to ask. You picked up your phone and typed out a message.
You: Can I ask you something? It’s a bit embarrassing.
Bucky’s phone pinged as he sat listening to a discussion between Sam and Steve. He enjoyed watching them battle wits, as long as he wasn’t asked to take part. And when he did, he always sided with Steve, regardless of what his actual opinion was. He took his eyes off the pair to see your face light up his screen. Your face never failed to make the corner of Bucky’s mouth quirk up, as hard as he tried to hide it.
Bucky had never met anyone quite like you. Despite the trauma and loneliness you had suffered, it hadn’t made you cold or hard, in fact he thought you were the single most kind-hearted and loving person he’d ever met. Your intelligence surpassed that of many and he was almost shocked that you had chosen to bestow your affection on him. You were his angel, sent from heaven to show him what real love was. He texted you back immediately.
Bucky: Anything.
Bucky’s whole attention was on you now, your question had piqued his interest far more than the conversation between Sam and Steve ever had.
You: How do you masturbate?
Bucky’s eyes were ready to pop out of his skull as he read your question.
“Buck?” Steve called his friend again, trying to get his attention.
“Yeah?” Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his attention away from his phone.
“Can you settle this for us?”
“Yeah, I agree with Sam,” he answered.
Sam and Steve watched him get up and walk away with their jaws on the floor. But Bucky had no time for nor interest in their reaction. He was focused on your question.
Bucky: What makes you ask this question?
You: There were some agents in the kitchen and they were talking about masturbation…
Bucky: And you are curious?
You: Well yeah. So are you going to answer the question?
Bucky thought for a moment before responding.
Bucky: There isn’t just one way to masturbate.
You: Care to elaborate?
Bucky: Most people use their fingers. Now they have all these toys.
He thought for a moment, before sending a follow up text.
Bucky: Back in the day, we would make do with what was around. You just need to use it right.
As much as Bucky longed to offer you a hands on demonstration of the concept, he knew that he should give you the space to learn and experience things at your own pace, particularly with regards to your sexual relationship.
Bucky: You need to figure out what YOU like.
You bit your lip as you read Bucky’s answers, your fingers hovering above the screen as you tried to work up the courage to continue your conversation.
You: I don’t know what to do.
Bucky: You just have to try things out and see how you feel.
You typed out your response, you felt a tingling between your legs and an unfamiliar dampness. It took you several minutes for you to press send.
You: Will you show me?
Bucky’s mouth went dry as he read your reply. He felt himself stir at that thought of your question. He read your words over and over, contemplating his next move.
Bucky: Are you sure?
Bucky didn’t want to pressure you, or make you do anything you didn’t feel comfortable with, but the thought of being closer to you, more intimate with you made his body react and he could feel blood pumping south.
You: Ordinarily I’d probably use a Google search but I’m not particularly where I should be looking. Also most things are probably not targeted at women past their teenage years. Also I didn’t particularly want to leave a trail of cookies in my search history.
Bucky wasn't quite sure he understood all of your message. I was rather old fashioned, and even though he had some understanding of the modern world, he didn't feel entirely comfortable. He decided to help you the best way he knew how.
Bucky: Meet me when you're done with work?
You: Sure. Where do you want to meet?
Bucky: Your room. 6pm. Wear something comfortable.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you read his message and answered.
You: See you soon.
Anticipation and anxiety had you back in your quarters much earlier than the time Bucky had advised. You decided to be prepared for his arrival, so you took a shower and performed all your necessary grooming rituals. You weren’t entirely out of the loop with regards to sex, but clinical application was very different from actual intimacy. The thought of Bucky’s touch excited you. Your relationship with him mostly involved emotional intimacy, he was nervous too, worried about hurting you physically. He had been happy to let you take the lead for the physical aspect of your relationship.
The thought of his touch elicited a tantalizing reaction from your body, the warmth, the wetness between your legs was exhilarating. There was an urge to touch yourself. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about this before, even tried exploring your own body, but you’d never quite achieved the intended goal. Today felt different. You could feel yourself pulsing in a way that you’d not felt before. And if Bucky wasn’t able to help you understand your own body, you were certain that no one would.
You put on a slightly oversized t-shirt, it was loose enough for you to move with ease, but fitted enough that your figure wasn’t hidden. You grabbed a pair of booty shorts, choosing to slip it over your hips without any underwear. The feeling of them against your uncovered core made you feel wicked. Your heart was still pounding and you needed something to relax, so you grabbed a bottle of Pinot Noir and poured yourself a generous glass.
A knock at the door made you jump, and the contents of the glass sloshed around dangerously. You took a small sip before putting it down on the counter of the small kitchenette in your room and went to answer the door.
“Hi.” You barely breathed the word as you found Bucky at your door.
He looked ethereal, he had clearly taken the time to go back to his room and prepare for your rendezvous after spending the day training new recruits. He slipped past you with a gentle greeting. He had washed his long hair which was loose and still slightly damp. He had donned a maroon Henley which you had told him was your favorite and as he brushed against you, you caught the scent of his cologne which did nothing but increase your arousal.
“How was your day, Doll?” Bucky asked, giving you a gentle peck on the cheek.
“Seriously, you want to ask about my day?” you said nervously, wringing your hands together.
Suddenly you felt out of your depth. How could this beautiful specimen of a man possibly be here for intimate relations with you? You turned around and took a mouthful of wine, coughing slightly as you swallowed.
“Hey, easy there, Doll. Being drunk isn’t helpful. You know,” he paused for a moment, “we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel his heart beating as your head rested against him. It was calming and you looked up at him.
“I want to.”
“If you change your mind at any time, you will tell me, right?”
You nodded, appreciative of his understanding.
“Sit down for a minute. I’m just going to set up a few things.”
“What kind of things?
Bucky held up a few candles. “I thought they’d make you feel more comfortable, relaxed.”
You watched Bucky place candles around your room and then dim the lighting. His movements were elegant, so smooth. You marveled at his grace and agility, his touch was delicate and you wondered how his hands would feel on your body. When he was done he came over to sit beside you as you clutched your wine glass.
“Oh Bucky, I’m sorry, here, let me get yo-”
You stopped as he put his hands on your shoulders. “Listen, before we start, no matter what happens today, I’m just here to help you… you know, please yourself. That doesn’t mean that we need to go any further. You don’t owe me sex. Got that?”
You nodded, feeling more relaxed, like he’d taken the weight of expectation off your shoulders. “Yeah, okay,” you whispered.
“Anytime you want to sto-”
His words were cut off by your lips on his. “Sorry,” you pulled away slowly. “You were kinda freaking me out.”
Bucky chuckled at your shyness.
“So what now?” you asked, uncertain of how to proceed.
“Do you feel…” He wasn’t sure how to ask you if you felt turned on.
You shrugged. “Every time I think about this, I feel nervous, but also kinda tingly.” Subconsciously, you squeezed your legs together seeking the pleasure that came from the friction.
Your reflexive moments didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky. “You feel good?”
You nodded. “Will you kiss me?”
Bucky smiled, cupping your face with his hands, pulling your lips towards his, caressing them with his tongue before gently slipping it into your mouth. His right arm dropped down, coming to rest around your waist. Both of you lost yourselves in the kiss for a few minutes before Bucky pulled away. “Want to keep making out?”
“Well, it is nice, but I’m ready. What do I do?”
“Do you want to take your clothes off?”
A soft blush crossed your features, Bucky could see it in the glow of candlelight. You started taking off your t-shirt, raising your arms to pull it over your head. Bucky’s eyes lingered over your breasts, trying not to stare as you struggled with the neck. He eventually tore his gaze away to help you complete the task. Bucky tossed the shirt aside on a nearby armchair and turned back to you. You could help but try to cover yourself with your arms.
“You look beautiful, Doll.” Bucky murmured. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?”
“I mean, I feel kinda exposed. Maybe if we were on even footing it would be less awkward?”
Bucky laughed, “so you want me to take my top off?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Bucky used one hand to swiftly shed his Henley, letting you ogle his chiseled chest for a moment.
"Why don't make yourself comfortable on the pillows.” He nodded his head up to the top of the bed.
You followed his instruction, crawling over to the top. You’d spent many an evening with Bucky buried under the covers watching movies late into the night. Several times you’d woken up the following morning wrapped in his arms, but today was different. You sat back against the stack of pillows making yourself comfortable.
“Aren’t you coming?” You asked, realizing that he was still sitting at the end of the bed.
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Well, if you want me to…” he answered, voice suddenly a little shaky.
“Were you planning on sitting there with all your clothes on, watching me get myself off. I mean that’s kinda off putting.”
He walked around the edge of the bed and climbed on to sit beside you.
“If you take off your pants, I’ll lose my shorts.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Doll.” He smirked before shimmying off his jeans.
As hard as you tried, you couldn’t help the flush on your face as you stared at the outline of his bulge. Bucky smirked.
“Like what you see, Doll?”
There was something in his tone that made your insides feel tight, like there was something inside you trying to escape and you kept squeezing to stop it. Your body responded to his words in a way you’d never felt before.
“Your turn,” he said quietly, not a command, more of a request.
You lifted your ass off the bed and pushed your shorts down, over your thighs, sliding them over your knees and let them fall over your calves. Bucky helped you to unhook them from your feet before tossing them to the foot of the bed, just in case you wanted them again. He took a moment to let his eyes rove over your naked form, oh how he longed to touch you, but today was not for him to indulge his fantasies. Today was for you.
“Will you sit with me?” you asked.
“Can’t get a lot closer than this, Doll.” He was sitting right beside you, his thigh touching yours.
“Can we sit like we did the other day? When we went to the beach?” You remembered how it had felt to sit between Bucky’s legs, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively. You felt safe from the world. It’s not that you needed Bucky to keep you safe physically, you were perfectly capable of looking after yourself, no, he made you feel accepted. It was a feeling you wanted to hold on to forever.
Bucky let you climb between his legs, taking a deep breath as your ass brushed against him, “Okay?” he asked, his hands holding the top of your arms gently.
You nodded. “What now?”
“Well… we just need to figure out what you like, what feels good for you.” He paused, trying to figure out how best to advise you. It wasn’t like there was an official manual to be followed. “May I?” He put his fingers around your wrist, asking for permission to guide your movements.
His palm radiated warmth and you felt goosebumps erupting across your arms. “That feel good?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t we start up here?” He guided your hand up to your neck. “Start with soft touches.”
Following Bucky’s instruction, you traced the muscles along your neck and across your clavicle. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you reach the center of your chest. Bucky’s eyes flicked to your face as you closed your eyes and leaned back into him, his chest moves up and down slowly. His sturdiness and strength only served to amplify your arousal. He saw you bite your lower lip as your fingers grazed the skin on your breast. Naturally you cupped it, massaging the tissue slowly.
“Try pinching your nipple,” he whispered in your ear.
You do as you’re told and find yourself whimpering quietly. The feeling between your legs amplified ten fold, clenching needily.
“And the other side too, Doll.” Bucky muttered, his fingers sliding up and down your upper arm, the same arm you were using to touch your own body. “Feel good?”
“So good,” you sighed.
You leaned back again, the delectable sensations had you arching your back and now that you had moved past your breast, you noticed that the level of pleasure had changed a little, dimmed slightly. Bucky watched with rapt attention, mentally noting what you responded to for future reference. He resisted the urge to bury his face in your neck, press his lips against your sweet smelling skin. Your fingers skated quickly over your abdomen and made their way between your legs.
“Take your time, Doll. From what I've learned, getting a woman all worked up makes things more… intense.
"Before you touch down there, try rubbing here," he moved your hands to your thighs. "Just on the inside, Doll, just like that. You can use your fingers, or your whole hand. Try and see what you like."
You sighed, trying out the different techniques on the flesh of your thighs. Bucky’s skin itched with desire, there was nothing he wanted more than to put his own hands on your thighs, but he had promised you and he would keep his word.
“I like it more with my finger tips,” you leaned back into him, looking up into his eyes with a smile.
As you did, you noticed something pressing into your lower back. You pushed against it, curious about its shape. A shuddering breath and strangled moan escaped your boyfriend’s lips.
You looked back up at Bucky with surprise and you saw the blush on his face. It is a little embarrassing that it took you so long to realize what was touching you.
“Is that…”
“Yeah…you can just ignore… him. He shows up sometimes without invitation,” Bucky mumbled.
“Do you want me to-” you started asking if he wanted you to touch him, but Bucky cut you off.
“No, today we’re here for you. Focus on your own body.” Bucky shifted his hips back to avoid further friction but that didn’t quite stop his body reacting to you.
Bucky’s fingers skated across your skin with the lightest of touches, his breathing heavier than it was before as he watched your hands stroke over your inner thighs, edging closer and closer to your leaking core.
“Buck-” you whined quietly.
“Yeah?”
“I want…”
“Go ahead, start with one hand, maybe?” he suggested. “Feel over the outside.”
You hummed, arching back against him, and earning a groan from Bucky.
“If you feel comfortable, you can put your fingers between the folds and try rubbing your-.”
“Clit?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, there’s a lot… it’s really wet.” You comment as your slick coats your exploring fingers.
“That’s good,” Bucky said encouragingly. “Have you found your-”
You gasped and grabbed Bucky’s muscular thigh as your fingers brushed over your sensitive bud for the first time. Your pussy clenched needily at the sensation.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled darkly.
You continue moaning as your fingers rub circles over your pulsing clit. “Oh Bucky…”
He groaned at the way his name left your lips, filled with such longing. He panted softly as his fingers dug into your flesh, he had moved them from your arms down to your waist and it was taking a lot of self control for him to not let them roam over the rest of your body.
“It feels, I … I -” You couldn’t find the words to express what you needed. The new deletable sensations were something you’d never experienced and it was almost overwhelming.
“Use your words, Doll. Tell me what you need.”
“Inside, I want something inside.” The throbbing at your core was getting stronger.
“Good girl, that means you’re doing it right.”
“How do I do it?”
“Move your legs apart a bit more.”
You obliged and Bucky moved his legs under yours so you could hook your ankles around them for support and open up for yourself.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” you said with more confidence, it felt good, you wanted this.
“Try putting one finger in first. Go slowly.” He put his hand on yours, directing your finger along your slit before helping you push into your entrance.
Your thighs tightened as your finger entered this new territory.
“Try to relax, Doll. Take your time.”
Your finger slipped inside, you took deep breaths in an attempt to slow your pounding heart. Bucky couldn't help himself, he put his hands on your thighs, almost a subconscious movement as he focused on your activities. Watching as you dragged your finger in and out of your dripping pussy.
"That's right, just like that." Bucky crooned in your ear.
His lips felt soft on your neck. You didn't notice how he palmed himself at the same speed that your finger was disappearing inside you.
"If you want, you can put more fingers inside you."
“Umm hmmm.” You didn’t need his guidance to know what you wanted. “Keep talking though.” His voice in your ear was serving to be more an aphrodisiac than you’d expected. You changed the speed of your trusts, suddenly aware of a new feeling that you couldn’t quite identify.
“You like how that feels, Doll? Try hooking your fingers up slightly.”
He knew you’d found the right spot because of the way you bit your lip and squeezed your eyes closed, pushing back into his chest.
“You’re allowed to make noise, Doll. Actually, I encourage it.”
Your hips began to rock of their own accord and you could hear Bucky panting behind you.
“Oh God,” you whined. “Bucky…”
“I’m right here, Doll. You’re doing so good,” he moaned. “Use this hand, here.” Bucky placed your other hand over your clit, letting you take over rubbing the hard bud.
“Bucky…”
“Yeah?”
“Bucky,” you whimpered desperately, brows knitted together. You had no idea what you wanted from him. “Bucky-yy.”
“It’s okay, Doll. You’ve got this.”
You did, because without warning you felt yourself hurtling over the edge of a precipice you didn’t know you’d been standing on. Your walls pulses around your fingers as your body undulated to the feeling of ecstasy spreading out from your core through to your fingertips. Your powers crackled in a glow that surrounded your body.
As your breath finally settled down, you relaxed back into Bucky’s arms, a ridiculous smile spread across your face. Bucky’s arms surrounded you, holding you making you feel safe and supported.
“So? How did it feel?” Bucky asked, a tad impatiently.
You laughed bashfully in response, words not quite able to describe how giddy you felt in that moment, until Bucky was laughing along with you. You caught his lips as he turned his head to look at you, expressing your thanks with an affectionate kiss. As you leaned back, you were reminded of Bucky’s situation.
“That was amazing, Bucky. But what about you?” you asked.
“What about me?”
“Don’t you have to- I want to feel you… inside me.” Your voice dropped in volume at the end of your sentence.
Bucky shook his head. “Next time, today was for you. Besides, I kinda came when you were…” His voice trailed off looking a little embarrassed.
“Oh, sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault, well actually-”
“Hey!” you pouted.
“In a good way. You look beautiful."
"Thanks for not judging me."
"Thank you for accepting me. For trusting me."
"Of course, Bucky. What happens now?"
"After we get dressed, we can order some food and watch a movie?"
"And maybe plan for when we can do this again?" You asked shyly.
"Sure thing, Doll."
You were glad that you'd had the courage to ask Bucky for his help, and hopefully some day soon, you'd be able to feel even closer to him that you'd done today.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine
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hii! can i request a dialogues prompt of princess x their guard (i think it’s leaning to medieval times tho for the setting), non-smut/fluff or smut, i don’t mind, anything you’re comfortable with!!
and if i may ask for a second request, i’d like a request of dialogues prompt between two best friend, in which he is actually secret superhero, she likes to patch his injuries etc etc and well yeah they just have a crush on each other thingy, do what u think is good for a story🫰🏼
tysmmmmmm✨🫶🏼
I'm in love with both of these ideas!! I'll make them into two separate posts and tag you in the other.
Prompts for a Princess x Their Guard
-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.
"Do you think our love is doomed?" he whispered to his princess, his lips hovering over hers. He wanted nothing more than to close the gap, to show her how much she truly meant to him, but there were so many worries that lingered heavy in his chest. She glanced to his lips, then looked up at his eyes with a hurt on her face that made his heart ache. "Why would you say that?" she asked him. His hands fell from cradling her face, sliding down her arms and then her hands. "It's just..." he began, struggling to find the words. "You're a princess. The princess. And I'm just some guy. They'll never allow us to be together, you know that."
"You're the one person that makes me feel safe."
"You shouldn't be here." The knight stared at the princess, who was standing in their dirty barracks in her nice, lavish clothing. She watched them from the doorway, taking in their appearance now that they were no longer dressed in their uniform. "I wanted to see you," she answered, as if that were reason enough to explain why she had made the hike unaccompanied. "This is no place for a Princess." They began to dress themself, ignoring the blush that was growing hot on their cheeks. "Let me walk you home."
"If you asked me to run away with you, I'd say yes in a heartbeat."
"Your job is to protect me," the princess said, smirk pulling at her lips. The guard's heart was hammering in his chest, and he prayed that his expression was just as stoic as it was meant to be. "So," the princess continued, wrapping her arms around his neck, "protect me."
The princess dragged the guard into her bedroom, closing the door behind them. She pressed her back against the door with a mischievous grin, blocking their only exit. The guard stood stiffly in the center of the room. "What are you doing?" they asked the princess. She rocked back on her heels. "I got you something." "You got me something?" She moved to her dresser and began to dig through her drawer. The princess held up a necklace to her guard. It was a stone carved into the shape of a star on a simple silver chain. "So you'll think of me," she told them, "anytime you wear it." The guard's heart was melting. "I already think of you," they answered, "all the time. I'm never not thinking of you."
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#writing prompts#dialogue prompt#creative writing#writeblr#otp prompts#prompt list#soft prompts#story prompt#ask box prompts#princess x knight#princess x guard#prompts#romance prompts#angst prompts#prince x knight
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