#and i hope too that you have been able to fill your life with new interests and pursuits that do make you happy and fulfilled now

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

[esote-rika]

More of you to worship | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Summary: Spencer Reid has insecurities about his changing body, and you assure him you love him regardless.

Content: body insecurity, established relationship, one mention of New Year

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Quick little oneshot to end the year! You can thank @reidgif for this one because this gif rekindled my hyperfixation on his tummy. And then I saw a clip of Aisha (Tara’s actress) saying MGG weighs 11 pounds and has the metabolism of a rabbit on speed (lmfao) anyway, I took that and ran with it and now here we are. As someone who struggles with dysmorphia, I did my very best to be as sensitive with this as possible. Last fix of the year, I hope you enjoy it!

Spencer had begun to notice it a few weeks ago. At first, he had foolishly thought that there was simply something wrong with the shirt he had worn. Tactile sensitivity had always been something he dealt with, and this was no different. There had been a certain peculiarity in the fit of his shirt that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Days continued, and it became a persistent bother, impeding his movement when he aimed, and inhibiting his general comfort.

It wasn’t until today, sitting in the bed—one he shared with you—that he finally had the time to inspect what was going on. The two of you had just gotten home from Rossi, who had graciously hosted a New Year’s dinner at his mansion. Spencer had admittedly eaten more than his fill, and that’s when he realized—it showed.

At once, the problem appeared. He was gaining weight. His shirts were bothering him because they were growing too tight, digging into places where they had previously been loose. The realization made him pause, as he stared down at himself.

Sitting on the bed, his stomach had gathered into a bulge, straining against the cloth. It was a new sight, not necessarily unwelcomed, but it seemed to send his mind reeling (to be fair, a lot sent his mind reeling nowadays, he was running on fumes, his only reprieve being you.)

He had never been muscular, had never found the need to be muscular. The team was nearly faultless because everyone filled a role, and they executed that well. He was, has always been, the genius, the expert on everything, as Hotch had called him once. Being the genius of the BAU meant that he had value. Relevance. It brought him great deal of pride, being able to contribute and pick up on patterns and little details that the majority of the team might miss.

It made him feel like he mattered. Needed.

So what if he couldn’t tackle a man down? They used to have Derek and Hotch for that, and now that role was being fulfilled by Luke and Matt, both of whom were utter specimens of the male physique.

But his time in prison had proven to him that he couldn’t rely on just his brains. Not when he had three burly inmates looking for trouble, looking for someone easy. It pained him that someone easy meant someone that looked like him. Tall, gangly, defenseless.

He took another breath and frowned as the fabric around his stomach grew tighter, taut at having to contain this belly that had formed over the course of the evening. A food baby, you liked to call it, because your own tummy was bonded to several factors as well—hormones, food, water intake—that made it fluctuate frequently, normally.

Normal. He tried to remind himself that this was normal, gaining weight was normal, but then again, how could someone tell what was normal when their—his—whole life, he had little experience with the word? Growing up a genius and taking care of an ailing mother skewed whatever sense of normalcy he could have developed.

Besides, his normal meant lanky, thin. His body, the way it was framed and built, had always been long and erring on the side of delicate. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to bulk up, it was that his muscles were lean; that was simply how his anatomy worked. It would take a lot more effort to gain more muscle, effort that he, admittedly, didn’t want to exert. It wasn’t his role.

And now, he looked down at his stomach with a crease on his brow, mind whirring with explanations. Weight fluctuations are normal, and they were okay, and he was nearing forty, anyway, of course his metabolism was beginning to slow down, human adults’ bodily functions tend to do that, it was scientific and —

“Honey?”

He looked up, and there you were, your loveliness framed by the plain doorway. Somehow, you made it seem more magical, less boring, as though your very presence just made everything better. He smiled, holding out a hand for you, forcing the wave of insecurity down his throat, down his chest, trying to bury it deep in the recesses of his body.

You walked closer, and the thoughts punched through his attempts to silence them—you wouldn’t find him attractive anymore.

Something must have shifted on his face, a sliver of that anxiety creating fresh lines between his brows, because you paused. A hand ran across your cheek, and he felt the weight of your concern in the action.

“What’s wrong, Spence?”

He drew you closer, pulled you onto his lap. He couldn’t lie to you, not out of his lack of skill, but due to your incessant ability to somehow sniff out the truth from him, one way or another.

“I think I’m outgrowing my shirts.” he said, softening the words with a chuckle. He was ashamed to admit that it was affecting him more than he anticipated; maybe humor would lessen its significance.

“Aren’t you a little too old to be going through puberty?” you asked, matching the teasing tone of his voice. The difference was glaring though; his voice was awfully strained, and yours was lighter, more at ease.

Still, he laughed, buried his face at the nape of your neck. “They’re getting tight around my stomach.”

At that, you pulled back. He swallowed the whine that threatened to leave his lips; he was already being so pathetic over a little pudge, he was reaching max capacity. With bated breath, he watched as your gaze ran over him, eyes flickering with recognition when they landed on his torso.

“Oh they are,” You replied, hands going up to his shoulders, tugging at the fabric there, “Here too. Huh, I guess we’ll have to go shopping then.”

He looked, patiently waited for more.

“What?” you asked, eyes crinkling oh so prettily at the corners that he couldn’t help but press a kiss over them.

“That’s it?” he murmured, disbelief coloring his voice. He had anticipated more of a reaction, maybe a suggestion of ‘oh maybe you should go to the gym’. But you took it with such stride that he was a little confused.

“Yeah, that’s it.” you laughed, brought a palm down to his stomach, that one place that’s causing him to basically break down, “Should there be more?”

He shrugged.

Perched on his lap, you frowned as you watched emotions flicker through his eyes. “Spence,” You murmured, kissing his temple, “Talk to me.”

“I just don't want you to think I'm unattractive anymore.” The words felt bitter in his tongue; it was a relief to release them, get them out of his system. “I was never - you know - sexy before, and now I'm gaining weight.”

“Spence,” You interrupted him gently. It wasn't something you did often; his rambles were one of the things you loved about him after all, but it pained you to hear him get so insecure about something so insignificant as his weight, especially since his body wasn't even the thing that made him attractive to you in the first place, “Belly pudge or scrawny, I think you're hot.”

His eyes softened, looking so impossibly hopeful that you couldn't stop the urge to lean in and kiss him. “Seriously,” You murmured, “It doesn't matter to me. You're handsome, but you're also so intelligent and passionate and sensitive, and those are so much more important than how you look.”

He sagged with relief, arms tightening around you. “Yeah?” He asked as he buried his face in your hair.

“Yeah, honey. I'm not with you because of your looks,” You replied, then with a little laugh, you added, “Although, they certainly are an added bonus.”

His shoulders shook as he chuckled, and you can feel his lips giving you tiny kisses at the crown of your head.

“Besides,” You continued, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, “The way I see it, there's physically more of you now - more of you to hug, and to love, more of you to worship.”

He was silent, but his grip on you never faltered, breath fanning gently over your hair. “More of me to love.” He whispered, “You're right, that's - that's one way to look at it.”

“Mhmm,” You nodded, “But you really do need to go shopping, can't have you ripping your shirts while you're out on a case. You wouldn't want your team to think you're doing an impromptu strip tease.”

He bursted out laughing, and exhilaration filled your chest. You always took pride in making him laugh, and this was no exception.

“God, I love you.” He said, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” You smiled, then added, “Besides, I think the pudge is cute. You're on your way to a dad bod.”

He laughed again, and if you could hear that sound on loop forever, then you would be in heaven

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

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“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks. 

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left. 

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident. 

You keep waiting for that phone call. 

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home. 

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear. 

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse. 

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha. 

You hate it. 

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence. 

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere. 

Still...it smells fishy to you. 

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent. 

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast. 

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like. 

It makes you physically ill. 

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments. 

Some of those moments with Simon. 

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side. 

Your heat. 

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot. 

It makes you sick. 

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again. 

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid. 

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough. 

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out. 

You can’t trust Simon to help you. 

You’re not even sure he knows how to. 

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death? 

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list. 

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy. 

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him. 

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently. 

You can’t. 

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control. 

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges. 

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other. 

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax. 

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it. 

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks. 

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think. 

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says. 

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has. 

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment. 

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again. 

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.” 

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike. 

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine. 

You’re afraid for a different reason now. 

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle. 

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening. 

“What’s goin’ on in here?” 

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega. 

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again. 

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says. 

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.” 

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.” 

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.” 

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently. 

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks. 

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.” 

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.” 

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.” 

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety. 

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you. 

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust. 

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash. 

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen. 

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head. 

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower. 

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you. 

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back. 

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.” 

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on. 

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress. 

Four weeks. 

A month. 

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better. 

There’s been no contact. 

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming. 

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him. 

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away. 

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze. 

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything. 

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone. 

You want your alpha. 

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him. 

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world. 

You miss them so much it hurts. 

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering. 

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking. 

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off. 

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.” 

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers. 

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.” 

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.” 

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity. 

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side. 

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware. 

You’re hungry. 

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist. 

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep. 

“I’m hungry.” You whisper. 

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.” 

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out. 

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp. 

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge. 

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning. 

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.” 

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.” 

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone. 

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag. 

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.” 

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no. 

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says. 

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. 

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.” 

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time. 

You’re going to have to do this alone. 

Well...perhaps not. 

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all. 

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity. 

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again. 

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know. 

What if he says yes?  

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet. 

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?” 

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands. 

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?” 

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room. 

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state. 

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger. 

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future. 

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake. 

“No.” 

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful. 

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.” 

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over. 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face. 

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him. 

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself. 

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin. 

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger. 

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones. 

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.” 

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this. 

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under. 

You want to remember his voice when you come back out. 

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort. 

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms. 

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience. 

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead. 

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released. 

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what. 

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?” 

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.” 

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark. 

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes. 

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around. 

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV. 

“Not my favorite.” He admits. 

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.” 

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it. 

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation. 

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong. 

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days. 

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse. 

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat. 

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center. 

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head. 

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone. 

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing. 

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV. 

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.” 

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head. 

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more. 

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.” 

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before. 

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long. 

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe. 

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now. 

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware. 

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap. 

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.” 

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way. 

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him. 

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever. 

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge. 

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.  

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him. 

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone. 

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.” 

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now. 

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?” 

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality. 

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach. 

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.” 

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket. 

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries. 

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand. 

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.” 

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze. 

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips. 

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his. 

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes. 

She is smart. He’ll give her that. 

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his. 

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it. 

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything. 

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.” 

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made. 

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up. 

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway. 

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.” 

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory. 

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise. 

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says. 

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state. 

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door. 

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book. 

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.” 

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him. 

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally. 

He hates it. 

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.” 

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room. 

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it. 

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know. 

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes. 

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep. 

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much. 

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears. 

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.” 

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this. 

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak. 

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.” 

NEXT ->

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[solxamber]

'Elloo! :D I saw your requests open, can I request some hcs or short imagines for the first, second, and third years, separate characters?? Or you can just do it as a single scenario with all the characters. They're (Their??) reaction when they've realized the things reader/Yuu had to go through starting from the very beginning ,when they first got transported to the school. Like, the shock of not being able to go home, new environment, the fear-- just the emotional and mental turmoil reader/yuu went through starting from the beginning.

Also, as time goes by it just gets worse and worse along with all the overblots and stuff that got reader/Yuu over the edge. And now the students kind of help?? Or at least try to soothe or comfort the reader I guess??

Does this make any sense?? I dunno :'D

I want me some angst hehe >:]

But if this is kind of too much then it's okii if you wanna skip this one, I love the effort you put into your writings! <3

I kinda just wanted to ramble and yap about this idea I had hehe

Toodles!

thank you!! and i'm sorry it too so long, but i hope you like it <3

They realise what you went through - All NRC + Rollo + Neige + Grim, Staff

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle doesn’t realize the extent of your struggle until much later, likely after witnessing you reach your breaking point. The way you bottle up your emotions reminds him of himself before his own overblot, and it fills him with guilt. He prides himself on upholding order, but he feels like he failed to notice the chaos within you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Riddle asks, voice trembling as he stands before you, his normally stern expression soft with regret. He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, unsure if he has the right to offer comfort after overlooking your pain for so long. “I… I should have noticed. I’m sorry.”

Riddle dives into a methodical plan to ease your burdens. He takes on your academic concerns, ensuring your assignments are manageable and offering personal tutoring. When you’re overwhelmed, he insists you take breaks in Heartslabyul’s peaceful rose garden. While he’s not good at openly expressing affection, he’s steadfast, always by your side with words of encouragement and warm tea.

Trey Clover

Trey picks up on your struggles sooner than most, his observant nature allowing him to notice the small cracks in your demeanor. He doesn’t pry but stays close, offering quiet support until he realizes you’re beyond your limit. His heart aches knowing you’ve been carrying so much without asking for help.

“Hey… you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” Trey says softly, kneeling beside you as you sit slumped in an empty classroom. His usual calm demeanor is tinged with concern. “I’ve seen you pushing yourself too hard. You’re not alone in this, you know.”

Trey becomes your sanctuary. He’s the type to cook comforting meals for you, often sneaking you your favorite desserts. He encourages you to talk at your own pace, listening without judgment. Trey also ensures you’re surrounded by people who care, gently urging you to spend time with friends so you never feel isolated again.

Cater Diamond

Cater doesn’t fully realize how bad things are until he catches you breaking down when you think no one is watching. The sight hits him hard—he’s used to wearing masks himself, but seeing you put on a brave face while falling apart reminds him of his own struggles.

“Whoa, hey, hey…” Cater’s voice is unusually soft as he crouches in front of you, the playful lilt replaced with genuine worry. “You’ve been holding all this in, haven’t you? Man, that’s not healthy… You should’ve told me!”

Cater becomes your cheerleader, using his energy to lift your spirits. He takes you on spontaneous outings, distracting you with fun activities and selfies to remind you of life’s lighter side. When you need to vent, he’s surprisingly patient, letting you talk without interruptions. His go-to phrase becomes, “No filter, just let it out. I’m here.”

Ace Trappola

Ace is the last to understand the depth of your pain, brushing off your struggles as stress until you finally snap. Seeing you cry or lash out leaves him dumbstruck—he’s not used to serious emotions and struggles to process it at first. But beneath his awkwardness, he genuinely cares.

“Whoa… I didn’t think it was this bad.” Ace rubs the back of his neck, guilt clear in his expression. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things worse. I didn’t mean to. I just… didn’t know.”

Ace sticks close to you in his own Ace-like way. He cracks jokes to make you laugh and distracts you with playful banter, but he’s also there for the serious moments. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he drags you outside to play a quick game of basketball or to look at the stars, insisting, “You’ve gotta clear your head, or you’ll go crazy.”

Deuce Spade

Deuce notices your struggles but doesn’t know how to approach you about them. When he finally sees you crumble, it makes him feel like he’s failed as your friend. His protective instincts kick in, and he becomes determined to help you in any way he can.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this the whole time?” Deuce’s voice is thick with emotion as he looks at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something! I’m supposed to have your back!”

Deuce takes your well-being seriously, to the point of overcompensating at first. He insists on walking you to class, carrying your things, and defending you against anything he perceives as a threat (real or imagined). Over time, he learns to provide quiet support, sitting with you during tough moments and saying, “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is a perceptive man, even if he acts otherwise, but your struggles slip under his radar for too long. It isn’t until he notices how you’ve stopped rising to his teasing or how the light in your eyes has dimmed that the gravity of your situation hits him. It reminds him of his own sense of isolation, and the guilt gnaws at him.

“Tch. You think you’re the only one who has to deal with this crap?” Leona’s voice is gruff, but there’s no malice in it. He sighs, sitting beside you under the shade of a tree. “You should’ve said something sooner, herbivore. Doesn’t mean you have to carry it all yourself.”

Leona doesn’t coddle you, but his actions speak louder than his words. He offers his presence, silently inviting you to nap in the botanical gardens with him when you need a break. If anyone dares to make your life harder, Leona handles it with a quiet, lethal efficiency. “Rest up. You’re not falling apart on my watch.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie notices your struggles quickly, but his initial reaction is to brush it off as normal stress—until he sees you genuinely hit your breaking point. It stuns him; he’s used to dealing with hardships himself but hates the idea of you enduring the same without support.

“Oi, don’t do this to yourself,” Ruggie says, his usual playful tone replaced by something softer. “You’re not alone, y’know? I don’t let my people suffer in silence. That’s not how we roll.”

Ruggie uses his resourcefulness to lighten your load however he can. He sneaks you snacks, takes care of tedious tasks for you, and even makes you laugh with his sharp wit. When you’re overwhelmed, he shares stories of his struggles to show you that it’s okay to lean on others. “You’ve got me, okay? I’ll make sure you’re okay, promise.”

Jack Howl

Jack notices the signs of your stress early on, but he hesitates to bring it up, unsure if it’s his place. When he finally realizes how deeply you’re struggling, it stirs a protective instinct in him, and he immediately resolves to do whatever it takes to help you.

“You should’ve told me,” Jack says, his voice low and filled with regret. His ears twitch as he glances away, guilt etched across his face. “I could’ve helped. You don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”

Jack becomes your steadfast support, encouraging you to exercise or go for runs to clear your mind. He’s a calming presence, offering quiet companionship when words aren’t enough. “You’re strong, but you don’t always have to be. Let me help carry the weight, okay?”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prides himself on noticing vulnerabilities in others, but your ability to mask your pain throws him off. When the cracks finally show, it shakes him deeply, reminding him of his own insecurities and the times he felt powerless.

“I didn’t realize…” Azul murmurs, his hands wringing nervously as he looks at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I’m sorry—for everything. Let me help you now.”

Azul’s approach is practical and calculated, but it’s rooted in genuine care. He offers to take over responsibilities or negotiate solutions to ease your stress. When you’re overwhelmed, he’s unexpectedly tender, sitting with you in his VIP room and reminding you, “Even the strongest need someone to lean on. You’ve been there for others; let us be here for you.”

Jade Leech

Jade notices your struggles early but refrains from intervening, assuming you’ll reach out when you’re ready. When he realizes how much you’ve been bottling up, he’s surprised and slightly guilty for not addressing it sooner.

“My, you’ve been carrying quite the burden,” Jade says, his usual calm tinged with regret. “It seems I underestimated just how much you’ve endured. Forgive my oversight.”

Jade is a master of subtlety, offering comfort in ways that feel natural and unintrusive. He invites you on quiet walks through the woods, using the serene atmosphere to help ease your mind. When words are needed, he listens attentively, his soothing voice offering reassurance. “Do not hesitate to lean on me, should you need support. I’ll always be here.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t realize how bad things are until you completely snap, and even then, it takes him a moment to process that your outburst isn’t just a temporary mood. Seeing you so broken flips a switch in him, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

“Shrimpy, why didn’t you say anything?” Floyd’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, his sharp eyes scanning your face. He pouts, but there’s no mischief in it—just genuine concern. “You don’t gotta handle everything alone, y’know?”

Floyd sticks to you like glue, his unpredictable nature becoming a strange source of comfort. He drags you out for spontaneous adventures, insisting that fun will help you feel better. When you’re feeling low, he’s surprisingly gentle, wrapping you in a tight hug and muttering, “I gotcha, Shrimpy. Nobody’s messin’ with you while I’m here.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is always full of energy and positivity, so it takes him a while to notice the depths of your struggles. When he does, he’s devastated, blaming himself for not seeing it sooner.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this?” Kalim’s eyes widen, tears threatening to spill. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something to help!”

Kalim does everything in his power to brighten your days. He showers you with gifts, invites you to lively parties, and insists on spending time together to lift your spirits. When he realizes that quiet support means more than grand gestures, he sits with you, holding your hand. “You’re not alone, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is highly observant, and while he notices your struggles early on, he assumes you’re managing on your own until he sees how much you’ve truly endured. It reminds him of his own bottled-up frustrations, and guilt eats at him for not acting sooner.

“...I should’ve known,” Jamil mutters, his voice low and filled with regret. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I’ve been through this too. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”

Jamil’s care comes in quiet, thoughtful gestures. He prepares your favorite meals, arranges peaceful moments away from the chaos of NRC, and ensures you never feel overwhelmed alone. “You’ve done more than enough. Let me take care of things for a while.”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s sharp eyes catch the signs of your struggles quickly, but he initially brushes them off, believing you’ll overcome them like any challenge. When the full weight of your burden becomes clear, he’s horrified and deeply regretful for not intervening sooner.

“I failed to notice something so glaringly obvious,” Vil says, his tone laced with self-reproach. “That’s not acceptable—not as your friend and certainly not as someone who should’ve supported you better.”

Vil approaches your comfort with precision and care, determined to help you regain your footing. He insists on self-care days, encourages you to vent your frustrations, and teaches you grounding techniques. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need rest. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Rook Hunt

Rook is attuned to the emotions of those around him, and your pain does not escape his notice. He marvels at your resilience but is deeply saddened that you’ve been enduring so much without seeking help.

“Mon cher trésor, your suffering… it pains me to think I let you endure this alone,” Rook says softly, his gaze earnest. “You’ve carried a weight that no one should bear by themselves. Allow me to lighten your burden.”

Rook’s support is poetic and heartfelt, crafting moments of beauty to remind you of the world’s wonders. Whether it’s a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten letter, or a quiet moment under the stars, he ensures you feel cherished. “You are not alone in this grand stage of life, and I shall remain by your side as your steadfast ally.”

Epel Felmier

Epel is initially too caught up in his own frustrations to notice the extent of your struggles, but once he sees you falter, his protective side kicks in. It reminds him of his own insecurities about being underestimated.

“Aw, geez, why didn’t ya say somethin’?” Epel frowns, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re always lookin’ out for us, but ya never let anyone do the same for you. That ain’t fair.”

Epel takes a straightforward approach, offering to help however he can. He sticks close, ensuring you never feel alone, and encourages you to vent when needed. “You’re tough as nails, but that doesn’t mean you gotta do it all by yourself. We’re a team, remember?”

Idia Shroud

Idia is slow to notice your struggles, being so wrapped up in his own world, but when he realizes the extent of your pain, it hits him hard. He sees a reflection of his own struggles in you and feels immense guilt for not seeing it sooner.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Idia mumbles, his voice trembling. His hair dims as he nervously fiddles with his tablet. “I should’ve… I don’t know, paid more attention. I’m sorry. I—I wanna help, if you’ll let me.”

Idia comforts you in his own awkward way, creating a safe space where you can relax without judgment. He shares his favorite games, shows, and quiet moments, offering you an escape from the chaos. “You don’t have to be ‘okay’ all the time. Just… take it easy for now. I’m here if you need me.”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho is one of the first to notice your struggles, his advanced sensors picking up on changes in your emotional and physical state. His concern is immediate, and he wastes no time in seeking to help.

“You’ve been so sad for so long, haven’t you?” Ortho’s voice is soft, as he hovers close. “I wish I could’ve made you smile sooner. I’m sorry you’ve been hurting.”

Ortho’s comfort is warm and reassuring, filled with optimism and boundless energy. He’s always ready with encouraging words, small gifts, or simply a cheerful presence to brighten your day. “You’re not alone! I’ll do everything I can to help you feel better, okay?”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus has always sensed something amiss about your emotions, his acute sensitivity to auras making it impossible for him to overlook your struggles. However, he hesitates to approach, fearing he might overstep or worsen your burdens. When he finally understands the depth of your pain, he is both heartbroken and determined to help.

“You’ve been enduring this in silence?” His deep voice is laced with regret as his green eyes soften. “If only I had been more attentive, perhaps I could have eased your pain.”

Malleus ensures you feel his unwavering support. He invites you for peaceful strolls under the stars, shares his favorite quiet spots, and reassures you with his calming presence. “You are precious to me. Whatever darkness surrounds you, I will remain by your side until the light returns.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia has lived long enough to recognize the signs of emotional turmoil, and it pains him to see you suffer. While he often masks his seriousness with cheerfulness, he doesn’t hesitate to step in when he sees you reaching your breaking point.

“Oh, little one, you’ve carried such a heavy heart all this time.” His playful demeanor fades into solemnity as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Lilia comforts you with wisdom and warmth, drawing on centuries of experience. He shares stories to make you laugh, cooks (albeit questionable) meals to distract you, and offers sage advice when you’re ready to talk. “Life’s trials are harsh, but you’re stronger than you know. And if you need someone to lean on, I’ll always be here.”

Silver

Silver is observant despite his drowsy nature, and he’s one of the first to notice your growing exhaustion. When he realizes the extent of your suffering, he feels deeply remorseful for not acting sooner.

“I should have seen this sooner,” Silver says quietly, his tone filled with regret. “You’ve always looked out for others… I should’ve done the same for you.”

Silver stays by your side, offering silent, steady support. He doesn’t push you to talk but is always ready to listen when you’re ready. His calm demeanor helps ground you, and he often sits quietly with you under a tree or by a calm lake. “You’re not alone. I’ll protect you—not just from danger, but from this weight you’re carrying.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s initial reaction is frustration—not at you, but at himself for failing to notice your struggles while being so focused on Malleus. His loyalty shifts into overdrive as he becomes determined to help you.

“You’ve been struggling this much, and I didn’t see it?!” Sebek’s voice is loud, but there’s a rare softness in his expression. “That is… unacceptable. I failed you as a companion.”

Sebek’s attempts to comfort you are a bit clumsy but heartfelt. He insists on helping you with daily tasks and loudly declares his commitment to your well-being. Despite his rough edges, his sincerity shines through. “Know this: I will not allow you to suffer alone any longer. You have my loyalty, now and always.”

Rollo Flamme

Rollo’s disdain for magic only deepens when he realizes how much you’ve suffered due to the chaos and overblots of NRC. His concern for you is genuine, though it’s laced with anger toward the school and its culture.

“This place… It’s a cesspool of disorder and harm,” Rollo says, his voice cold yet trembling with suppressed emotion. “You’ve been caught in its web for too long. You deserve better.”

Rollo’s comfort is practical and protective. He tries to create a sense of normalcy for you, offering quiet, structured moments away from the chaos. His words are sharp but sincere. “You deserve a life of peace and stability. If you can’t find it here, I’ll do what I can to give it to you.”

Neige LeBlanche

Neige is quick to notice your distress, his naturally empathetic nature making him keenly aware of your struggles. He’s horrified to think of you enduring so much alone and wants to do everything in his power to make you smile again.

“Oh no… You’ve been feeling like this?” Neige’s voice is soft, his eyes brimming with concern. “You don’t deserve to carry such sadness by yourself.”

Neige’s comfort is gentle and uplifting. He sings for you, offers kind words, and encourages you to express your feelings without fear. “You’re so strong, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to let someone take care of you for a change.”

Grim

Grim initially doesn’t notice your struggles, his focus often on his own ambitions and mischief. When he finally realizes how much you’ve been enduring, he feels both guilt and panic.

“Hey… You’re not okay, are ya?” Grim’s ears droop as he looks up at you, his voice unusually soft. “Why didn’t ya tell me? I—I’m supposed to be your partner!”

Grim becomes fiercely protective, sticking by your side at all times. He tries to cheer you up with his antics and insists on being your “emotional support boss.” “You’re stuck with me, got it? So don’t go actin’ like you’re all alone. I won’t let ya.”

Staff:

Crowley

Crowley prides himself on being the "benevolent" headmaster, but when he realizes how much you’ve suffered under his care—or lack thereof—he’s struck by a rare pang of guilt. While he’s not one to admit fault outright, he becomes visibly uncomfortable with the weight of his oversight.

“My dear, you’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders?” His dramatic flair falters for a moment, his usual exuberance replaced with awkward sincerity. “I… suppose I may have been a tad neglectful in ensuring your well-being.”

Crowley tries to make amends in his own roundabout way, offering resources, extended accommodations, or attempting to be more attentive (though his efforts are often misguided). “Rest assured, I shall personally oversee that you are well cared for! You have my full support—within reason, of course.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel is not one to tolerate weakness, but when he sees the toll everything has taken on you, his stern demeanor softens. He’s the type to take immediate, no-nonsense action to ensure you’re taken care of.

“You’ve let it get this bad without saying a word?” His sharp tone is laced with frustration, but his eyes betray his concern. “Pup, I thought I taught you better than to carry burdens alone.”

Crewel’s approach is practical yet caring. He insists you rest, brings you comforting meals, and ensures you know you’re valued. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need support. Lean on me, pup. I’ll make sure you’re back to full strength in no time.”

Mozus Trein

Trein is a man of wisdom and observation. He likely noticed your struggles but respected your space, waiting for the right time to step in. When he realizes the full extent of your distress, he feels deep regret for not intervening sooner.

“I should have addressed this earlier.” His voice is steady but tinged with remorse. “You’ve faced more challenges than any student should. It’s a testament to your resilience, but it shouldn’t have come to this.”

Trein offers gentle guidance, providing stability and reassurance. He shares stories of his own trials and reminds you that even the hardest times pass. “Life is fraught with difficulties, but you’ve shown remarkable courage. Allow others to help shoulder the burden—you need not face this alone.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas isn’t the most emotionally perceptive, but when it finally clicks that you’re struggling, he’s hit with a wave of guilt. He immediately shifts gears, trading his usual boisterousness for genuine concern.

“Whoa… I had no idea it was this bad,” Vargas says, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would’ve helped in a heartbeat!”

Vargas focuses on physical activity as a form of comfort, encouraging you to blow off steam in healthy ways. He also offers constant positive reinforcement. “You’re tough, kid, but even the toughest need a break. Let’s get some fresh air and clear your head—you’ve got this!”

Sam

Sam has always been attuned to the emotions of others, so when he realizes the depth of your struggles, he feels a pang of regret for not stepping in sooner. His usual upbeat demeanor becomes tinged with quiet sympathy.

“Well, well… Looks like someone’s been carrying more than their fair share.” His voice is soft, his usual grin replaced with a concerned expression. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Sam provides comfort through small but meaningful gestures, like preparing your favorite treats or giving you space to talk. He reassures you with his calming presence and wise words. “Don’t keep it bottled up, friend. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. I’m here to help you through it.”

Masterlist

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

.

.

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

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[demonvibez]

Showering with Diavolo

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Rating: Mature/Explicit [MDNI] Tags: a lil fluff, unprotected penetration, outercourse, fangs/marking, gn body parts A/N: Received this request as a comment under this fic so of course I had to write a lil headcanon/drabble about my husband, lol. Anyways, hope y'all like this - I could go on about Showertime Dia forever ♡

-> Typically Lord Diavolo has to adhere to a very strict schedule, his life filled with routine. Sadly, his hygiene regiment is no different - quick fifteen minute showers, six days per week, with the exception of his weekly bubble bath. 

-> Most of his showers are quite quick and methodical, starting with his hair and working his way to washing his body. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Barbatos is usually there to greet him with his towel and uniform, eager to get the Young Master's very busy day started.

-> He has probably been gifted every hair-care and body gel to ever exist in the Devildom. But instead, his favorite is one you gifted him, and he is sure to use it everyday. The moment the musky-amber scent hits his nostrils in the morning, it reminds him of you, and he just knows he'll have a good day that day.

-> On Saturday evenings, however, the Prince has a little more time to himself - he pours himself some Demonus and settles into his jacuzzi-style bathtub, the water jets melting away the week's worries.

-> He usually uses the time to catch up on whatever popular shows he's missed, the television in his bathroom being a new addition. You had given him this idea - you told him that 'even the future king needs a little bit of me time,' and he started crafting an Akuzon order almost immediately after you walked off to class.

-> He lets himself drift off into his own peaceful oasis - too often falling into slumber, as thoughts of you turn into dreams. Lately though, he can't help but to feel like something is missing - that sitting in this jacuzzi makes him feel a bit lonely.

♡ "If only you were here with me now," he whispers to himself, before letting out a sigh and sinking beneath the water's surface.

-> Luckily for Lord Diavolo, the stars would soon align in his favor, and the fates would push you two closer together. It all started on a camping trip with the usual crowd from RAD. Diavolo had volunteered to help you gather some firewood - a rather simple task, one would think. Instead this task ended with the two of you running into a pack of wild hellhounds, and getting pushed into a mud pit while attempting to play with them. Barbatos looked rather perturbed when he saw the two of you arrive back at camp, but you assured him that everything was fine. 'Come on, let's get cleaned up,' you say with a smirk to a slightly shocked (and very giddy) Diavolo, your fingers entwining with his as you pull him towards the camp showers.

-> He isn't usually a shy demon, but when it comes to stripping down and getting into this shower with you, he can't seem to keep the blush on his face under control. What started as a nice shower together, washing each other's hair and giggling as you splash each other, ends with the two of you in a passionate embrace. With your legs wrapped around his torso, your lips collide as the cool shower's water cascades down Diavolo's toned back. It definitely would have gone further, had the two of you not been interrupted by Mammon and Levi banging on the door. (He did invite you back to his tent afterwards, so the night was not completely lost. Mammon and Levi were also lectured by Lucifer, 'for their shame and disrespect' as he puts it - but that's a different story.)

-> Ever since that night on the camping trip, your relationship has blossomed, and the two to of you spend as much time together as possible. You usually alternate between staying over with each other - most of the time you go over to stay with him in the Castle, but every now and then you are able to convince Lucifer that the House is clean enough for your Royal Boyfriend to spend the night.

-> The first time he stays over, of course the two of you shower together! You ask him if you should text Barbatos to bring over some of his shower supplies, but Diavolo insists on using yours, excited to smell like your signature scent for the rest of the day. He'll always insist on using your products - a light breeze of that scent helps him get through those endless meetings! (Although it does tend to make his mind wander...)

♡ Showers with Diavolo are always a mix of spontaneous and sensual. One moment you're splashing each other with soap suds, playing 'keep away' with the loofah…the next he has you pinned to the wall, unable to resist the way you look up at him, and he can't stop his lips from crashing onto yours. 

♡ It doesn't take much effort for him to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as the shower rains down onto the both of you - and now you can finally finish what the two of you started on that night camping; what Diavolo has been fantasizing about ever since. Your hands slide his damp crimson hair back out of his face, gripping it in the back as your tongues collide. You can feel Dia's thick throbbing cock teasing you, and all you can do is grind against him. 

♡ He slides into you so effortlessly - as if you were made for him. Your arousal made you putty in his hands, your tight little hole adjusting to him after only a moment - but you still couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size, your eyes widening at the sensation.

♡ Every thrust in this position feels new, an unfathomable pleasure previously undiscovered. A new high, with no sight of the top. Each stroke hits so deeply within you with an electric feel, the rush of pleasure getting sent up to your brain, overstimulating all of your senses. The euphoria continues to build, and you don't know if it will ever end - if the tension will ever snap. 

♡ The rising pleasure within you is starting to overwhelm you, having never felt so full before. Just when you thought you couldn't handle much more, the Prince slides one of his hands down to your sex, massaging you in tandem with his pace. Your nails dig into the flesh of his muscular shoulders as he finally pushes you over the edge. He finds himself following suit not long after, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him making him unable to hold back any longer.

♡ Both of your moans fill the air as you ride out your climax together. Gasping for air, you hear a knock on the glass of the shower's door - you were so wrapped up in this moment together that neither of you heard Barbatos enter the bathroom. He waited until it sounded as though the two of you were finished before he interrupted your 'shower' - and now he's reminding you of the Young Master's busy schedule for today in a scolding tone, as he holds out towels for you both. Oops.

-> Anyways, you also love spending weekends at the Castle with him - it's easier to flow with his schedule that way. And of course Diavolo is going to invite you to his Saturday night soak; you're his favorite human, his lover, his partner…and it was originally your idea, in the first place! 

-> Just know that this demon spent extensive time planning out your first bubble bath together - he had to pull out all of the stops! 

-> The Friday morning beforehand, Barbatos comes in to wake up his Young Prince, only to find him already awake and making a rather large Akuzon order on his DDD. Scented candles, chocolate covered hellberries, vintage spirits - he was even considering calling in one of his favors to see if he could get some Celestial bubble bath expedited from the angelic realm. Cost is of no issue to him, wanting nothing more than to ensure the night's success. Barbatos scolds him several times throughout the day, the Prince seemingly distracted and prioritizing his night in with you over his paperwork. 

-> When the time comes to set everything up, Diavolo insists on doing everything himself. He even threatens bribes Barbatos into going to Purgatory Hall for the evening - all so that he can do it all alone, eager to show you how much he cares about you. He has a brief moment of doubt as some of the Celestial bubble bath accidentally overflows onto the floor...but you're worth it, and he finishes fixing it all up right as you ring the front entrance anyways.

-> The scene set in his bathroom is so romantic, you wonder for a moment if you're actually in a movie. Abyss flower petals scattered around the floor. Candles set around the tub, the flickering glow dancing against the bathroom's tiles. Scented bubbles gently fizzing and popping, the light aroma filling the air and instantly making you feel relaxed. A bottle of champagne, specially ordered from the human realm, and set in an enchanted bucket of ice next to two hell-crystal champagne flutes. And your gorgeous Demon Prince standing in front of you, gently grabbing your hand to press his lips to your knuckles before he leads you over to the tub. If this is a dream, you definitely don't want to wake up...

-> After the two of you disrobe, you settle into the jacuzzi, and Diavolo gets you each a glass of champagne right after he presses the button to start up the water jets.

♡ It doesn't take much bubbly for the two of you to find yourselves in another heated moment - but the truth was, neither of you could hardly wait to jump the other from the moment you entered the bath's warm water. And now you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his huge throbbing cock, the feeling of it filling you surprising you yet again. Every new position with the Prince feels like new territory, the way he strokes so deeply within you. Making you feel things you never have before - hitting spots you didn't know existed. This type of adventurous pleasure could become addicting...

♡ His golden eyes smolder with lust as he watches you, every gasp that escapes your lips pushing him closer and closer. Your little human hands grip at his scalp as his own fingers sink into the flesh of your hips. His lips find your neck, and his kisses gradually turn into light love bites, his fangs nipping little marks onto your skin as he thrusts up into you.

♡ "So good...all mine," he mumbles possessively against your neck.

♡ Your moans grow louder as Diavolo starts thrusting faster, taking the reigns as you let the building bliss take over your senses. He pulls away from you to see the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as his hand glides down to your sex, massaging you in that spot that he knows drives you absolutely wild. Consumed by pleasure, that warm feeling of euphoria washes over you, your orgasm making you feel weightless in Diavolo's muscular arms. 

♡ He's not done with you yet though - not even close. Switching positions, he picks you up in his arms and sets you down on the recessed bench in his bathtub. His hand grips under your thigh and pushes your leg up, a groan escaping his lips as he slides himself back into you. It had been merely a few moments, yet he had already missed the feeling of your tight warmth squeezing him so perfectly.

♡ He thrusts into you roughly and suddenly, the bath's water splashing and rippling against his gorgeous caramel skin with each stroke. You hadn't even come down from the high of your first orgasm, still feeling the aftershocks as Diavolo begins to fuck you faster and faster.

♡ Losing all restraint, his demon form slips out only a few moments before he hits his climax, causing his cock to grow even bigger. Your eyes widen as you feel him, his wings outstretched as he fills you with his royal seed - and you can't help but to join him, your orgasm overtaking you as well.

♡ Both panting for air, he picks you up and sits down with you in his lap, still throbbing deeply within you. He wraps his arms around you to hold you as you both catch your breath. Neither of you can help the smiles plastered across your faces, that blissful feeling still remaining as you sit with him in his loving embrace. Your cheek rests against his chest as his rests on top of your head, and he just knows that this is the happiest he's ever been in his long, demonic life.

-> Afterwards, as the two of you get ready for bed, Diavolo can't help the way his heart swells when he sees the way you've settled into his room. The way your things line the counter of his sink. The way you go to his wardrobe to retrieve your pajamas, instead of your bag. It's almost as if you live here in this Castle with him already - a thought as sweet as candy for the Young Devildom Prince. 

-> And as you lay there snuggled up in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, Diavolo contemplates asking you to move in with him right then and there. But you've already drifted off to sleep, so that will have to wait for another time. Looking down at you lovingly, his heart feels so full - he presses a kiss to the top of your head before laying back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.

♡ "I love you so much," he whispers as he drifts off into his own slumber. With you in his arms and in his dreams, the Future Demon King can't help but to smile in his sleep. 

· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[ace-turned-confused]

love thy neighbour

joel masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader summary: you visit your parents for the holidays, and their new neighbour joel miller makes the trip far more exciting. word count: 3,6k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a skirt, food & alcohol consumption, christmas & new year celebrations, unspecified age gap, joel gets a sneak peak, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, spanking, creampie hallelujah, come eating, dirty talk, praise kink a/n: MERRY VERY LATE SECRET SANTA EM @hellfire-state-of-mind !!!! this is over a month late and i've never felt more guilty about something in my life. ilsm you are a GEM! i hope this makes you twirl your hair and kick your feet and melt into a puddle, as you requested. 💛 this is the first fic i’ve managed to finish since SEPTEMBER and idk i’m just proud of myself, times are tough. 🫡 not beta'd

The neighbourhood has hardly changed since your last visit — no fresh coats of paint, no new landscaping, no new drama. The one thing that has changed, is a new face that’s moved in across the street from your parents. He waved to you the first time you passed each other, flashed a contagious smile and a cheeky wink as he collected his post and headed back inside his own home. You’ve been hooked since then.

Your childhood bedroom has a wide window that faces the street, with a clear view of the front of his house. Whether arriving home or leaving, or simply standing talking to someone, you always admired him. You made a habit of going out too — sometimes for no real reason — on the off chance you’d get a closer look at him.

He caught you staring one day as you dared to walk on his side of the street and met him in his driveway — brown tangled curls laced with silver, broad shoulders and arms that filled out his sleeves — you shot your eyes up before you could look any lower, a small smirk and knowing look on his face as he turned around to walk away. He hasn’t given you his name and you haven’t been bold enough to ask. You still stare, just not when he’s looking.

-

Your parents told you the house would be quiet this Christmas, with no extended family or friends — just the three of you spending some quality time together while you’re visiting for the holidays.

It's mid-Christmas morning and you’ve exchanged presents with your parents, with plenty of smiles, hugs and thanks. Your mom sets the table and your dad checks on the food while you get ready for lunch, still wanting to dress nice for the occasion. You hear the doorbell ring through your door, followed by muffled voices. Satisfied with your appearance, you head for the living room, a deep and unfamiliar voice becoming clearer as you enter the room.

There he is — the hot and mysterious neighbour you’ve been drooling over from across the road.

Your mom turns to you as you stand, fiddling with your clothes and unsure how to act.

“Oh, you’re finished! This is Joel, have you met already?”

“No, haven’t had the pleasure,” Joel cuts in and answers for you, standing before you with an outstretched hand. You take it, his hand dwarfing yours, calloused fingers rough against your palm.

“He’s on his own for Christmas, so I invited him to join us.” Your mom smiles at you. “It’s only us three, there’s plenty of food and Christmas cheer to go around!” She claps her hands together, waltzing away to the table.

Joel gives you that same cheeky wink and smile you’ve seen before, but up close it has a much stronger effect than you were prepared for — it’s going to be a long day.

-

Everyone sticks to the usual mundane topics of the weather and traffic and the best fertiliser to use for the lawn. You don’t say too much through lunch, distracted by Joel’s voice and charm and the occasional smouldering look he throws you. Every time you glance at him, he’s already staring at you.

When your parents get up to clear the table once everyone’s well-fed, you jump up instead and volunteer — if you have to watch Joel any longer you might just jump at him across the table, to hell with your parents. His eyes follow you over their shoulders as you leave the room, plates in hand. You look back to the table one last time, catching his eye as he smirks and takes a swig of his drink.

You start to rinse off the plates and put leftovers into containers, laughter and quiet chatter sounding from the dining room. Joel wanders into the kitchen and sets his glass down, leaning against the counter next to you and looking around the room.

“So, uh,” you clear your throat, awkwardly trying to make conversation and avoid embarrassing yourself. “When did you move here?”

“Couple months ago, nice neighbourhood… even better now, though.” You can see him grinning in your peripheral vision.

“Are you coming to my parents’ New Year’s Eve party?”

“I am, why? You lookin’ for your midnight kiss?” he teases.

“I have plans already,” you scoff at him, “I actually wanna have fun on New Year’s, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” he falls silent and angles himself closer to you. “You make the dessert?”

“Mhm.”

“Nice ‘n sweet.” He grabs the dessert bowl from your hands and drags two fingers along the inside.

You watch him, your lips parting as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. What would it feel like if those were your fingers instead? Or, better yet, if he shoved his fingers into your mouth?

He pulls his fingers out and opens his mouth to say something more, but he’s interrupted by your parents as they enter the room. He shoots you his signature wink before giving them his attention, and that’s the last you see of him.

-

The week after Christmas flashes by.

You bailed on your original plans of partying with your friends, coughing up a poor excuse why you couldn't go out with them anymore — with Joel coming to your parents' house again, it’s the first time in years you're willing to spend the otherwise boring last night of the year at home. Maybe you’re foolish for lusting after him, but that’s what New Year’s is for.

After spending the afternoon plating snacks, chilling drinks and fluffing pillows, you now pace in your room, deciding what to wear tonight. Your pre-picked club outfit is far too disrespectful for the new company you’ll be in tonight, but maybe you could make parts of it work…

You ditch the stockings and swap out the heels for flats. Your skirt stops mid-thigh once you make some adjustments, and change your risque top for a more neighbour-friendly one with ties in the front — if you look hard enough you can still spot your bra peeking through the gaps, but nobody here tonight should be doing that anyways. Except for Joel, maybe. You make sure it’s a decent bra in case he does. After all the effort you’ve gone through, you hope he does.

Hijacking the aux as soon as you come out into the living room again — you do not trust your dad’s music choices — you sit pretty with a drink in hand as everyone from up and down the street starts arriving.

You’re cornered by The Nosy Old Couple, getting grilled about jobs, partners and general life choices when Joel walks in. He looks around the room as your parents greet him, eyes finding yours as you try signalling him to rescue you. He simply smirks before turning and walking away — that bastard.

-

Joel watches you the whole night. He really shouldn’t — the neighbour's daughter, definitely too pretty and likely too young — but he can't find it in himself to care. What's the harm in a bit of holiday fun?

He could have saved you from that gruelling conversation, but then he’d have to let you go sooner. And it would look rude, strange, even, to tell your father, thanks for the welcome, but I’d rather spend the night chattin’ up your daughter.

So he settles for watching, for now at least.

The shift from a forced smile to a genuine one, your shoulders relaxing as you get yourself another drink and keep yourself in decent company. His eyes roam now, and he allows himself to stare while in your calm state, the same way you’ve always stared at him from across the street.

The way your lips part and slide over the rim of your glass, the delicate grip of your fingers, the hint of lacy fabric in the gaps in your top. Your almost-too-short skirt and how it hikes up when you cross your legs. Would you let him pull the ties loose and watch it fall open? Glide his hands up your legs and underneath your skirt?

You stand and laugh at someone's joke, reaching for your things. Something falls out of your grasp and you bend over to pick it up, your panties peeking out from underneath your skirt, just for him to see. His jeans tighten just so, the air in the room heating up as he clears his throat. He should look away, but he keeps staring, his own lips parting now as he imagines what’s beneath that fabric.

You turn around and catch his eye, all unassuming and innocent. He wonders if you know what you’ve done. You walk towards him, maintaining that look, and it’s evident you’re unaware. He’ll make sure to tell you.

-

Most of the night has passed already, and you finally get to talk to Joel.

“So much for those plans you had for tonight.” He leans towards you as people push past behind him, raising his voice above the music.

“Oh, uh, my friends cancelled, so…”

“Still hopin’ for a night of fun?”

“Are you offering?”

He downs the rest of his drink, jaw ticked to one side as he stares you down. He dips to speak in your ear, “You should be careful next time you’re bendin’ over in this little skirt of yours, sweetheart… I could see those pretty panties from a mile away.”

You step back from him, mouth agape at his admission — he just smirks at you, his eyes darkening. You hoped Joel would look at you tonight, but it was a long shot. You're deciding what to say when everyone gathers in the lounge — your dad’s put a countdown on the TV, and it’s a minute before midnight. You pull Joel into the hallway, away from the crowd and out of sight.

“So, you gonna kiss me at midnight or not?” You spin to face him, leaning against the wall with a naughty smile.

“I reckon your parents won't be too pleased havin’ their daughter kissin’ an old man like me.” He stands firm, arms folded across his chest.

“Well, they wouldn’t be too happy having an old man like you looking up my skirt…” You trail off, distracted by his arms.

“You’re the dirty girl bendin’ over and flashin’ her panties. Would you have wanted me to look away?”

He unfolds his arms and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as he leans to kiss you, his beard and moustache scratching against your skin and you reach up to hold his arms. It’s rushed and desperate and over before you can take in what’s happened, but god you need it to happen again.

He looks around at everyone cheering, hugging each other and topping up their drinks. He grabs your wrist and pulls you through the house without a word.

-

Joel sneaks you out of the house and drags you across the street towards his own. Your eyes linger on his shoulders and back as he unlocks his door. He turns a lamp on once inside and closes the door behind you both, pinning you against it.

“What are you doing?” You ask lazily, taking in his features in such close proximity.

“Givin’ you that night of fun you were wantin’.”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth and taking his time now as he runs his hands down your body, lifting your skirt to bunch it around your waist. He pushes one hand down between your legs to cup you over your panties and you grind into him — subtly at first, but it’s enough for him to notice and he smiles against you.

“That needy already, huh?” He says lowly, huffing a laugh when you whimper quietly. “Don’t gotta be quiet, sweetheart. Why you think I dragged you here? Ain’t gonna be much fun if I can’t hear how good I make ya feel.”

He spins you around and walks you towards his couch, backing you into the armrest. He pulls the ties on your top and drops it to the floor, fixated on the lace now in full view. He squeezes your breasts, fingers tweaking your nipples through the fabric as he looks up at you again.

“You wear this lacy number every day? Or just on special occasions?”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, lips parted as he keeps working his fingers, “I wore it just for tonight, for you… in case you noticed it.”

“Oh, I noticed alright,” he chuckles.

His fingers slow down and his hands begin to roam again. You take the reprieve to lift his shirt over his head and drift your hands down his bare chest. You stare at his broad shoulders and torso, almost in awe, as you reach for his belt buckle and undo it. It clinks against the floor, and you make quick work of his jeans, popping the button and undoing the zip. He dips down to kiss you, his hands bumping into yours as he pulls his jeans down and off.

It was mostly a joke when you said you wanted a night of fun — you never expected something like this to happen.

Joel kisses you again, inching along your jaw and down your neck while his hands continue their blind exploration of your skin, caressing and groping and digging into any part of you he gets ahold of. You reach to palm his bulge through his underwear, hard and heavy as heat radiates off of him through the worn fabric.

He shucks your skirt down and off, leaving it in the same growing pile of clothes, his fingers zeroing in on your covered clit. You moan at his movements and he lifts off of you to take in the sight.

He grabs your waist to turn you around, holding you flush to him as he gropes your breasts and grinds into you. You push back against him, a fresh wave of arousal soaking into your panties, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear.

“You ready for that fun?”

“Please, Joel,” you whine.

“S’what I like to hear.”

He pushes you down over the arm of the couch, chest flush with the cushions and ass up in the air. He rubs his fingers up and down over the damp gusset of your panties and pulls them down, leaving them hanging around your knees. Now with no barrier, he traces a single finger through your folds, already sticky with need and prods your entrance before repeating the motion.

“Even prettier than that little preview you gave me, she’s soaked for me already.”

His breathing sounds laboured behind you, and you turn as best you can to watch him, eyes falling on his hand as he strokes himself, thick and throbbing.

“This what you wanted? This what you still want?”

You smile almost drunkardly at him, huffing a laugh as you nod, facing forward to rest your head on the couch again.

“Remember, I wanna hear all those noises you can make — dirty girl like you, I’m sure you sound gorgeous.”

He replaces his finger with the head of his cock, dragging himself against you and coating the length of him in your wetness. He slips in slowly, his hands in a bruising grip on your hips as he pulls out only to push in even further. The music from your parents’ party fades from your mind when he finally bottoms out; Joel sighs and you groan as he holds your ass flush against his hips. He stays there, grinding into you and never pulling back.

“Jesus, feels like heaven…”

All you do is whine in response — partly unsure if he wanted a response, and partly unable to say anything else — overwhelmed by Joel and finally getting what you’ve been dreaming of since you first laid eyes on him.

“How you want this, sweetheart?”

A moment passes and he smacks your ass when you don’t answer him. He leans over you, letting his body weight push you deeper into the couch cushions, pushing his cock deeper into you in the process.

“Cause this is how I see it… Your little friends didn’t cancel your plans, did they? They’re all still goin’ out on the town tonight and doing God knows what and fuckin’ anything with a pulse. But you backed out, thought maybe you’d stay home 'cause if there’s anyone you’re gonna fuck tonight, it’s me. Ain’t that right?”

You’re silent again, both annoyed that he has you figured out and relishing that he's on top of you like this.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He lifts himself off you and pulls almost all the way out, leaving just his tip inside your cunt. “Be good and I’ll give ya a real fun story for your friends.”

He spanks you again, giving you no time to react as he snaps his hips into you. You screw your face up at the stretch as he does it again and sets a steady rhythm, the room filled with gasps and grunts and heavy breathing. He smacks you a third time and you moan, loud and unabashedly and you hear Joel chuckling behind you.

“That’s it, good girl. Wanna hear you, sweetheart, hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

He’s reaching a spot nobody else has before — undoubtedly the most experienced man with the biggest dick you’ve ever seen — and you know your back is going to be fucked in the morning from how he’s got you draped over his couch, your hips will be tender for days with how tight he’s holding you, and you might not walk straight for a week, but God are you glad you bailed on those original plans.

As heavenly as it is already, you still need just that little bit more. Joel’s already clocked you once, and he’s done it again as he wraps an arm around your torso to pull you up again, his pace never faltering as he presses his chest to your back. The new angle has you seeing stars, and he pushes his free hand down to circle your clit.

“You hear that? Hear how wet you are? God, if I’d known you were gonna take my cock so well I woulda fucked you on Christmas… maybe even before that. You think anyone’s wonderin’ where we are? Anyone smart enough to put the pieces together?”

You clench around him at his lewd confessions and beg him to keep going, so close to reaching your end.

“You gonna come on my cock for me?” He breathes against you, his thrusts becoming clumsier the longer he goes on. “Come on, sweetheart, know you want to. Been such a good girl, lettin’ me fuck this sweet pussy.”

A few thrusts and swipes of his fingers over your clit later and you're tightening around him, head thudding against him as you reach up to grab the arm that’s wound around your chest. Your nails carve crescent moons in his skin and you yell out, and he keeps pistoning into you through your orgasm to chase his own.

His filthy words turn into mere ramblings, muffled when he lowers his face to drag his lips against your skin and breathe you in, tightening his arms around you. His breathing heavy, small moans turn into grunts and groans as he fucks into you one last time, holding you in place as he empties himself inside of you, warm and filling.

He keeps you there, both of you panting for air as you come down and he pulls out with a hiss. He turns you around to face him — you’re still dazed when he leans to kiss you, calm and kind as he cradles your cheeks.

His hands wander down your body and he follows suit, coasting his lips down over your bra between your breasts, over your stomach until he’s crouching in front of you. He peers up at you, pupils still blown wide as he thumbs your folds apart, captivated by how his spend seeps out of you. His tongue darts out, eyes fluttering closed as he tastes himself and licks you clean.

He stands now and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling your panties up and straightening the elastic. His fingers linger on your skin before reaching to do the same with your skirt. He does up his jeans and shakes out his t-shirt, his gaze staying on you while you ensure the gaps in your top are no bigger than when you snuck away from home.

“Maybe we should, uh, get back…” You trail off, boldness quickly fading as you start to second-guess tonight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods, opening the front door. “So, when you comin’ round again?”

“Huh?”

“What, you really wanna sneak around your parent’s house instead?”

“No! God, no,” you laugh, shoulders relaxing and Joel smiles at you. “I just wasn’t sure if… I don’t want to sound overeager or anything…” “Nothin’ wrong with that, sweetheart. Besides, I know what I’m doin’ next time.” He winks at you, glancing across the street in thought. The party still seems to be going strong. “Night doesn’t have to end right now, anyways.”

He ushers you out the door with a smack to your ass, leaving you giddy and giggling as he locks his door again. You both head back towards the party, bumping into each other as you walk. You smile at Joel and he winks at you one last time before you crack open the door, excited about what the rest of your time here might hold.

np taglist for some pookies who showed interest:

@almostempty @joelmillerisapunk @djarins-cyare @burntheedges @milla-frenchy

@604to647 @evolnoomym @beefrobeefcal @whocaresstillthelouvre @bitchesuntitled

@sizzlingcloudmentality @sixhours @strang3lov3 @guiltyasdave @morallyinept

@mermaidgirl30 @bbyanarchist @vichons @angiewatson @professionalpromqueen

@lordhurn @pidgeispunk @letsgobarbs

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @strangergraphics

[goldsbitch]

That one night stranded

There is good sex...and then there is good sex. And when you know and love someone, it's very easy to tell when they fall into an anxiety trap and try to fuck it out.

Lando is determined to have good sex only for the rest of his life.

Or - Lando and Y/N get stranded in between flights. accidental 7k epilogue p.2 to That one Christmas flight, but can be read as a stand-alone

warning: angst, shit family, smut, p in v, oral, minors DNI, typos, couple therapists - please leave, i'm not ready for your judgement

//

There were two very different text message chains happening in the hotel lobby, where the young couple stood, waiting for the receptionist who was coding they key card.

Lando's phone was bursting up with family photos, taken the day before. Lots of smiley faces, tables overflowing with food and pictures blurred up, because the person taking the photo was most likely laughing too hard to stay still. And even better - most of the messages were words of praise his family had for his no-so-new girlfriend. He knew well enough his family was proud of him nevertheless. Somehow, bringing home someone who fit in right easily, laughed at the same jokes and earned a sincere approval, filled up a hole he had no idea was present in his heart.

This one night they'd "earned" by the delayed flight felt like a reward. They'd done great together. Alone time was a rare luxury, especially when it was unexpected and not planned out for weeks. He glanced over to her, glued to her phone in a similar way that he was. Only difference being the furrowed brows.

The other text chain was Y/N and her mother. Right when the reality sank in - the fact that no plane would be able to fly to Japan with these weather conditions - her heart did too. She'd somehow hoped it would be different. That her mother would save the snarky comments. Yet she found a way to make this all seem like Y/N's fault.

You should have taken an earlier flight.

She knew it was irrational. But yes, if they had opted for the earlier flight, they'd be in the air by now. Funny, how only parents know the exact formula to make one’s brain switch off the rational part. It was the hidden undertone in the text messages. Her mom would usually save those for phone calls. The last thing Y/N wanted to do at the moment. You're too reckless. Not organized enough. Being late is your fault. Bad planning. Do you even care about seeing me? I took a day off from work to spend time with you. Are you sure about bringing the racer boy over here?

Guilt filled up her stomach and her eyes were glued to the phone, hoping for more letters to appear. Something along the lines like "have a safe flight". Or "I'm looking forward to finally meeting Lando". Words she knew would never appear. She felt her boyfriend's arm embrace her as he exchanged few final words with the receptionist. The specific info got lost on her, but the tone spoke on it's own. Even a stranger could pick up on his unmasked joy and comfort. He didn't mind they were stranded for few hours. She wished for that kind of peace of mind. His family had been incredibly lovely to her. Accepted her the way she was and gave her enough space to express herself. She was ready for "double checking" or some sort of acceptance tests. Expected to have to prove herself to them more. None of that came. Part of her was secretly infuriated by that. There was no way in hell Lando would get the same treatment. Y/N wished she could provide that comfort for him too. It resembled the same feeling she had when he came to her apartment for the first time and she forgot to put away all the mugs overflowing the nightstand. Like something that was her responsibility to fix, clean up before he even knew this was a thing.

"Look at me, honey," he said in the elevator, his finger pulling her chin up. His eyes scanned her with a look she grew to love. Pure, unfiltered adoration. "Feels like we got gifted a night only for ourselves. I can't think of anything better to receive." She smiled as best as she could, trying to get on his level of ease. But one thought sat in her brain, unwilling to make space for anything else. Today's bliss for tomorrow's misery.

"You're right, as always," she replied, trying to convince herself maybe more than him. The kiss she gave him afterwards was to divert his attention from looking at her, because she knew from experience, he'd soon see right through her.

"Have you texted your mom that we'll be late?" he asked, unaware of her bubbling anxiety.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, trying to dismiss the situation.

//

Who cares that mom thinks he's just a reckless celebrity. Would an immature asshole who "can't possibly care about me in the longterm" be say things like that? It was pure fire running through her veins. Maybe it really was a gift, these few hours they got extra. The reality was that even if they'd arrived on time, fresh and dressed up as a cookie cutter loved up couple, her mom would still find something wrong to drill about later. Screw that. Last few moments of solitude.

She was standing in a hotel room bathroom, looking into the mirror, trying to calm herself down.

This worked perfectly into Lando's favor, him still being completely high on the good Christmas vibes. The minute she excused herself, he got on the phone with the hotel concierge and offered to throw any amount of money at them if they'd manage to follow up on his impromptu request. By some miracle, the trail with cold champagne, strawberries and few roses arrived before she returned from the bathroom. When his lovely girlfriend entered the room again, he greeted her with a dramatic spin, rose in one, a tall glass in the other hand. His interpretation of an angelic smile plastered on his face. The plan of catching her off guard worked. She stood there for a moment, taking the scenery in.

"Lando..." she said, speechless enough to muster anything more.

He winked at her and stepped closer. "It is technically our anniversary..." he said, like an open invitation.

Y/N stared at the loved up guy standing in front of her. Mother's voice still ringing in her head. All composure she managed to gain by staring at herself in the mirror gone in a second. How can anyone, ever and anywhere think that Lando, her Lando, is anything but a perfect boyfriend. How can her mother feed her with words like reckless, immature, wild and careless...without ever even meeting him in person. Her phone dinged with the sound a text message and she just knew it was her mom again. She didn't even bother looking at the notification.

"You're perfect, you know that?" she blurbed slowly. Once again, as if more to herself than to him.

His smile grew wider. "I try my best," he noted with a tone that could only be described as playful.

"Many people forget anniversaries..."

"To be fair, it is easier if it's pinned to annoyingly recognized holiday..." he joked and handed her the glass. "Do not ask me when we actually got together, because I don't think there is enough champagne around here for me to apologize for not knowing that date."

She smirked and accepted the glass.

"You did kind of just admit that yourself, you know..."

"I know, but, you didn't ask, so it doesn't count."

He knew her well enough to know that she was about to ask exactly that just to tease him, so interrupted her before she had a chance to even breathe in.

"Toast! To us! To the best outcome a desperate secret meeting at Honda could ever have!"

Giving up on teasing him, she clinked her glass with his. "To the Christmas champagne tradition."

He leaned in and kissed her before tasting the champagne. If it weren't for the symbolic gesture, he'd order anything else. Champagne had a weird undertone of podiums and that was something he hated to get reminded of during off season. But that was not something he needed to tell her.

She gulped the whole glass, happy have something to take the edge off.

"How bizarre, we managed to make it here," she remarked, courage building up.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, honey."

That's it. He was being the ultimate boyfriend, while she was there, barely participating. No more of that. She grabbed the glass from his hands and downed the liquid he barely touched anyway. Surprised Lando only raised his eyebrows and watched her put both of their glasses away.

"Bed. Now," she ordered him, changing the tone of the conversation.

Fascination overruled Lando's facial expression and he obeyed, without a single word. Usually, he was the more dominant one in their sex life. He couldn't help himself, forever horny teenager. But, sometimes, out of nowhere, she whipped up her bossy side. He often fantasized about that when he was alone, racing around the world.

She waited for him to absentmindedly kick his shoes to the corner only to sit at the edge of the bed. Shook her head and nodded toward the pillow. He obeyed and pushed himself further to the back. His eyes were literally inviting her, encouraging her to continue.

With full determination, she took her shirt off, following by swiftly removing her bra. Then she climbed over to him, never breaking eye contact.

Lando wanted to say something, anything, but he was worried that would somehow break the spell. He followed her every move, tuning in. They had spent few days in the family circus and they were about to enter another one. It's been the longest they'd gotten without sex while being in the same timezone. Even though he was not demanding or expecting anything, he was craving it like a starved man.

She wanted to feel hot. Determined to prove that she is a good girlfriend. Swung her leg over his, practically sitting on him. Their lips crashed together in a messy kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Lando sighed when she parted them. But she was on a mission now. Knowing well enough Lando was a boobs man, she pulled his face towards her nipple and he didn't think twice about what to do next. She watched him suck and pure physical relief washed over her. All will be well soon.

She grabbed him over his jeans, pleased to find that he was already getting hard. Abandoning the kiss, she moved over to gain access to his crotch. Locked eyes with him while opening his zipper, almost violently.

"Take this off," she ordered and boy, did he do as he was told.

The air was heavy with anticipation on both parties.

With thick determination, she knelt over and took him into her mouth. He grew in her instantly, reaching full erection almost immediately.

Wasting no time, she started to move, up and down and suck him off. One hand called over to help at the bottom of his shaft, the other used as a support for her to lean on. She quickly got lost in the rhythm and continued, almost like someone dead set on completing a task. She had to prove herself. He was a great boyfriend and she needed to be the best girl he had. Because tomorrow, only ugly judgemental looks from her mother would await. No warm family welcome, this bliss they lived in for the past few days would be long gone. She could almost see it already happening, Lando desperately trying to impress her mother and her just dismissing him, because she had already made up her mind about him.

But he was perfect and Y/N was head-over-heels in love. With her eyes closed, she kept on moving, barely reaching for breath, ignoring the growing pain in her back, because the pit of despair growing in her stomach was louder anyway. It was all worth it for making her lover happy. Because who knows how it will all look tomorrow. If she could back down from the trip, she would. Her mom does not deserve to criticize someone so perfect like Lando.

Out of nowhere, felt his hand reaching over to her shoulder, somewhat bringing her back to Earth.

"Y/N," he moaned, with an unusual undertone. She took it as a sign to speed up her movements.

"Stop," he continued instantly. She froze, not quite sure what had happened.

"Ok, ugh," he pulled away unwillingly. "I can't believe I'm about to interrupt...Whatever amazing thing is happening right now."

She swallowed her own saliva. Got up a bit, slightly mortified. Why did he stop her. What has she done wrong? He never complained before? That's it - this connected with the treatment her mother had prepared instead of Christmas dinner would be the final straw ending their lovey-dovey period. Her thoughts were tripping one over another, making up an incoherent mess.

Once again, he pulled up his finger and arched her chin up.

"Is everything alright?"

Silence followed. He gave her a questioning, puzzled look.

"I thought you liked my blow jobs," she said with a stern look stripped of any emotion.

"Believe me, I do," he said with a heavy sigh. He couldn't believe himself, never expected himself to pause a perfect blow. "But something feels off about you."

She failed. She failed at going with Lando's flow and ruined what was suppose to be a nice romantic holiday evening. Giving up, she threw herself on her back, lying 90 degrees next to him, eyes glued to the ceiling. If they hadn't been so comfortable with each other, she'd feel very small, lying there like that, him with his dick out and her topless.

Lando had hoped his intuition was wrong. But sadly, he recognized the signs correctly. Without knowing this emotion had pained her ever since the plane got delayed, he felt his own anxiety pile up. Only years of mental preparation for his overly demanding job had helped him to avoid jumping into conclusions too quickly. Even though, deep down, he was terrified that her sudden mood change was due to the fact she didn't love him anymore. It was always the first thing he thought about, no matter how much he tried to work on it. But - years of mental training - he was going to cash that in.

He watched her, hoping she'd look back at him. When she didn't, he reached his fingertips towards hers. Her own hand responded instantly and their fingers tangled together.

"What happened...Did I do something wrong?" he opened with, reaching for any clues.

She kept her stare up the ceiling and chuckled. How cute it was, finding him so unaware.

"No. Lando, you're amazing. Annoyingly so, lately."

He took that as an invitation and shifted his body over so that they shared the same angle and joined her at the "staring at the ceiling" activity.

"I hope that is not the problem - I have hard time not being like that," he joked, hoping it would diffuse the tension a bit. The Lando she met a year ago would probably run away in a situation like this. Or maybe even ignored the obvious distress of his sex partner and let he blow him to his release. But not the Lando of today.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Oh, if only all of us were like you," she couldn't help but comment sarcastically.

"You know that you're more than perfect to me, right?" There was no lightness to be detected in his tone. She shifted, a wave of uncomfortableness washing her over.

I may be, but not my family.

"Yes, but I need you to know...I need you to understand, that I truly love you and I am totally mesmerized by you. To me, you are perfect. Even when you irritate me to heavens," she admited, making sure to highlight the words of praise. Scared that if she didn't build enough foundation today, there will be nothing to stand on once the challenge comes tomorrow. She'd tried to warm him about the meeting, but it always seemed to go through his ears.

It was like she was speaking in riddles. "Why do you need me to understand that now?" he asked, eyes now fully glued at his girlfriend, searching for some clues.

She felt his eyes on her and out of nowhere felt very naked. "Because...." ...Words were hard.

"Go on, I'm not backing away from this," Lando insisted, trying to get them both on the same page.

A loud sigh. "We had such a great time with your family..."

It was like she was speaking in a language he was not yet fluent in. "Don't divert the conversation," he hissed, eyes on her like she was some sort of target.

"I'm not!" she gasped, almost offended.

Lando was still not following. "My family is basically in love with you, I have messages if you need proof."

"Yeah. And that's the problem," Y/N smirked bitterly.

He leaned closer to her. "I think we should look up a definition of the word problem..." he joked.

She was still burning holes in the ceiling with her look. "We missed the flight. It's another bullet to my mother’s gun." Stupid, stupid mistake.

"Who is she planning on shooting?" Lando asked softly.

"Us, I'm afraid." She finally met his look and the only emotion he was able to read in her eyes was concern.

If this relationship had taught Lando anything, it was that the hard way is sometimes the only way. So, he finally allowed himself to ask the one thing that had been on his mind for a while now. "Does she not like me?"

Deep down he was suspecting this might be one of the reasons why his girlfriend is acting sketchy. He just hoped it was something more trivial. "She's never met you," she whispered, as if she was defending him for something he hadn't yet committed. So far, there had been only one moment when her mom Facetimed her when he was right next to her. One greeting, awkward wave and a smile that was not reciprocated. He made up some excuse to leave them alone promptly after that, feeling like he was intruding on a private conversation.

"I wondered when you were going to tell me that," he remarked, ready to go full on. He was just now allowing the thought that his lover's parent might have been feeding her bitter doubts for some time now enter his brain.

The obvious change of Lando's expression made her stomach turn, kind of like drinking milk that's gone off does. But, they'd vowed to be fully honest with each other after their first big fight. Deep breath. "She um...It's not like you can say she is exactly on board with all of this,“ she gestured between them. 

And there it was. The confirmation he feared. He did his best to remain as calm as possible. "Don't worry, I figured, you sort of hinted at that few times before. And I'm planning on charming the hell out of her. After all, you do share genes. Some of my tricks gotta work on her." It was more of a plea, lacking his general playful confidence. When she studied his look, it reminded her of the times when he was hiding his real emotions in front of hungry reporters.

He told her once he wanted her to be blunt, rather than deceptive in difficult times. The words started to leave her mouth without much of a filter. "But, what if it does not work. She has this habit of making her mind up before I have any chance to affect it."

Somehow, the fact she voiced it, made it easier for him to react. "Honey, don't take this the wrong way. But, I only care about your opinion. It would be great to have your mom on our side...However, I'd like to believe it's not the base of our relationship."

"No, it's not," she said quickly, silently hoping it was going to be enough for them to survive this challenge.

"So, tell me. What does she think about me?" he asked, suddenly craving to know it all.

She bit her lip. "Lando, don't make me say things like that."

Wow. That bad. "I'm used to getting hate from thousands of people who don't know me. I can cope. The more specifics I know, the better I can prepare...Come on, spill it," he countered, trying to convince her that he can handle it. However, it wasn't like he himself was completely sure of that. Her face was expressionless and he nodded to confirm it nonverbally.

"She thinks you're reckless," she spoke slowly, skipping few heartbeats. She was used to being on the other side, praising Lando when he doubted himself. This place, where she found herself at, was not one she liked.

He analysed it for a moment. "Well, I do get into a car every week to purposefully drive it as fast as possible, so I can she from which angle she might be coming from. Nothing new."

"You're a party boy," she shot back faster than she could think.

And he shot right back at her. "You're a party girl, but I assume your mom has no idea, huh."

"No...," she admitted. For some reason, this calmed her down a bit. She finally took another breath.

"What else," Lando's stared at her, following his internal feeling they hadn't arrived to the end yet.

No point in holding back now, she figured. There was a weird ball of tension in her chest, almost asking daring her to push him to the limit. "She googled you. A lot. And she made sure to tell me names of all your model exes. Then proceeded to tell me I look nothing like that," Y/N deadpanned.

Lando knew this was probably the one thing that stung her the most. But, the thought of someone she held so dearly voicing it her was making him extremely angry. "That's just fucked up-"

She continued, before he had any chance to react more.

"And, she thinks you'll affect my school. That the lifestyle around you is shallow and only attracts bonehead people."

Now, this was finally getting to Lando. Of course, he could not let Y/N know that, not in this moment.

"Do you think that too?" he asked, because he craved to know the truth. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when the world around felt silent and his mind had time to roam freely, he found himself thinking about this. He never really studied and was never going to. His life was based on different approach. He loved it. But that didn't stop him from feeling a bit inferior from time to time.

He expected anything, but a laugh. For a moment he figured she was mocking him. Only once she reached to touch his face he realized just how still and stiff he became throuout out their conversation.

"I think it's shallow and bonehead to assume that. I've met some amazing people in your team, smart people who have dedicated their lives into the sport I'd grown to love while watching get so passionate about it."

There was an unspoken question hanging in the air. Lando dared not to say it outloud.

"And, no. I don't think you deserve to be called any of those words. Only when you're looking in the mirror, because that smug face deserves to be punched one day."

He chuckled. It would take him few moment to truly let her words sink in. "You didn't seem to think that one time in Abu Dhabi." That time when he fucked over a bathroom sink and made sure that she watched them the whole time. Lando watched with joy as her face started getting some color again. He couldn't fight his urge to get closer to his partner, break the tension even further. So, he rolled over to bury his nose in her neck. It was almost automatic at this point. None of his previous girlfriends were this understanding of his overly touchy needs. Words were important, but they grew more on meaning when he could feel her skin, explore her light shiver, watch how her body reacted. When he felt her pushing towards his touch, he swung his arm over her, with the notion of providing some heat to her naked chest.

A more comfortable silence fell upon the hotel room. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Lando was taking in all of the newly found information. It was a heavy burden, not because of the substance, but because it was coming from someone Y/N held dearly. It was hard not to feel a little injustice of it all. But more than that, he was grateful that she was able to avoid internalizing all of that what was fed to her from her mom. He approached all of this as he would any strategy meeting before a difficult race. Find the strengths, capitalize on them and try to minimize the advantage "the opponent" might have. But truth be told, he'd rather not have to have this sort of competition.

"Thank you," he whispered into the crease of her neck. "Thank you for not giving into it all." He hoped, prayed, that was he as saying was true. It was not just about her mom. It was the press, some of the overbearing fans and anyone who dared to challenge them without having any real insight in their relationship. "I know it must be really hard and not exactly what you might have signed up for."

What did I sign up for? 

She reached over to embrace him, mindlessly drawing circles on his back. The pit inside her stomach was growing smaller. Without really intending to, signed up for a partnership, exciting love affair that got out of hand. Anyone who came before him was redundant. He outshined everyone. 

"I’m pretty sure I must have bribed faith in my past life to have you thrown in my life." 

"Aren’t you my little smart poetic girl," he murmured approvingly and started to cover her skin with kisses. Few moments flew by. "We could order some food, put on the show you like and drift away. How does that sound?" 

She understood his intention. It had been a long day and another one was coming. Her emotions were clashing from one end to another and as much as she tried to hide it all, Lando was proving to be hard to fool. And no - she did not want to chill in. Burning all of it out sounded more fun. To be held for a moment, stuck in the timelessness only lightheaded orgasm created. 

He was still trailing her neck with small pecks, arm locking her in. The untamed curls almost tickling like small feathers. Everything was heightened, as if his skin was loudly calling her in. His words of initiating a calm wind down not matching his action. 

"Please, no more of this PG fun. It’s been days."

He stopped all of his movements. "Well then, pray tell, what do you have on mind?"

The next words flew out of her mouth before she could filter them. "Are you in the mood to fuck me?"

"Am I in the mood to fuck you," he repeated, in his signature sarcasm dripping style. He was having trouble processing how his sexual partner could ever arrive to this question. Unsure whether to address her clumsy dirty talk first instead of the absurdity of the question, he arrived at a simple "Charming…".  Of course he was in the mood. Always, anytime and quite literally anywhere.

"Well it's just, it's been quite a tense talk..." she hinted back carefully. To her surprise, his face went into smirk mode. 

"I will ask you the same thing next time you're hyperventilating about school and you come in begging for stress release," he jested, once again making her eyebrows shooting up. 

"I am never begging," she defended, unwilling to give into his narrative. 

And then he shot back, with his signature you-don’t-have-any-chance-to-resist look. "I said what I said."

Blood ran boiling in her veins. If oil had been in such abundance as his audacity, the world would be able to run cars freely for centuries. "Tell me one example of me begging for sex with you."

Lando turned his head slowly. Oh. Oh, it was on.

Very quickly she realized her own mistake. She ran into that one like a fool. "No, Lando, don't-"

"You know, it has been indeed quite a long day, I think I'm gonna hop in the shower and get a healthy dose of beauty sleep," he declared dramatically, sat up and removed his t-shirt. She rolled her eyes as high as humanly possible. No way would follow through with this premise. "Fine, Lando. I’ll be here, munching on strawberries, naked and horny, all by myself," she tried to tease and leaned over to grab one of the bright red fruits from the trail. Eyes locked in with him as she shamelessly sucked on it. There was a glitch and a twinkle in his look. Almost got her thinking she had this one in the bag. He stepped closer, noses almost touching as he whispered: "Have fun, honey," gave her a little peck on the cheeks while having the nerve to grab her exposed breast. His tone was teasing, daring her to dare a little more. It was annoying in a typical Lando fashion.

"Lando, you gotta be kidding me right now," she sighed, impatience getting the better of her. 

"Few magic words and you get exactly what you want from your reckless racer fuck boy,“ he mocked everyone who ever doubted them. "Oh, sorry, forgot to add, very good at taking your edge off. Am I right?"

His presence was more intoxicating than usual. As if he radiated some hormones making her feral. All the complicated emotions leaving the conversation one by one. Nothing but the two of them left in the room. His hot breath on her cheek, fingers circling over her nipple and his body heat reminding her of each time she wrapped her arms around him as he pushed into her. 

"Yes, that you are," she responded mindlessly and searched for his lips with her own. He allowed her a small peck, like a chef would at a tasting menu. Enough to hook, but not enough to fill up. And with that thought in mind he broke their kiss. "Come on, say it. I want to hear it."

Few moments of silence, her breathing heavy and his almost undetectable. Two ego’s fighting a battle so pointless it was almost amusing. She couldn’t just give in like that, no matter how dizzy her head was getting. 

"Fine by me, honey. Your choice," he danced away, letting her hanging. There was something infuriating about how nonchalantly and elegantly he smiled, knowing well enough her was winning this battle. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as to prevent herself from watching his tone back. 

This. This was her Lando. Always pushing her into a direction she had no idea she wanted or needed to go. Never the same thing twice, somehow, he always dug up something new. 

She sat on the bed, dumbfounded, playful anger replacing all the anxiety she had felt just moments ago. Was this his plan all along, or did he just have a natural talent at steering her mood into a place where she’d happily go and give into anything he’d suggest her to do?

He was grinning all the way coming to the shower. It was a statement, a game and something to ease the tension. Once the water started, he’d allowed himself do a light check-in with his own feelings. It wasn’t easy to hear all those things. In fact, some of them hit a little close to home. Lando made sure to separate what he had heard from Y/N as a person. She wasn’t the author of these thoughts. Someone else was. A person who he had not yet even met. There wasn’t a single cell in him that would doubt that everything she stared had been said by her mother at some point. 

He closed his eyes and aimed his face directly under the shower head. Images of him and Y/N all coupled up at his family house started to come in, like a set of developed photos. So natural, calming and most of all - honest. Comfort memories he knew he’d be reaching for once the new season and it’s challenges catch up, when the distance and loneliness hit. But at that moment, there she was, right next door and probably still a bit fired up by his uncharacteristic postponing of sex. His hand slid over to his crotch, squeezing himself casually and switching up the mental images to less family-friendly moments. He was sort of expecting her to come and join him in the shower. But no, of course not. Not when he set her up like that. They were all too similar for their own good.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel purposefully hanging dangerously low, he couldn’t stop himself from simpering. Once he got a look at her, sitting under the covers, phone in her hand and too stingy to pass him more than two looks. But, she did come for the second one and that betrayed her, aiming directly to where his tower barely covered his waist. 

To prove his point, he shuffled his wet hair, sudden movement making her glance once again. It felt really addictive to know he was the centre of her attention, despite how much she tried to hide it. 

Smugness and water dripping from him, he landed shamelessly on the bed, towel giving up on trying to participate. Her reaction was to frown, making her pet peeve of people getting into the bed wet known, once again. Something Lando became aware very early on. He used this information only when the situation required it. No words were said, as he leaned over her, making sure to leave some remaining water drops on her, and grabbed a moisturizer. 

Then he proceeded to slowly plump it and rub it on his body. The unreasonably loud sounds of him doing that were cutting the silence of the room like a knife. 

His partner sitting next to him hummed quietly. "Whatever this is, it’s not working."

He replied, elegant as ever. "I don’t know what you’re insinuating." He pretended to be as focused on his activity, the same way as he did when doing PR bullshit. "Ah, honey. Would you be so kind and help me reach to my back?" Lando asked overly nicely. Y/N watched him, almost admiring just how bad his acting skills were and how he proceeded with his act without any remorse. He was reaching over to his back, unable to do so, and making it look like the biggest tragedy human kind has ever experienced. And with puppy eyes, he decided to go for a low blow. 

"Please, baby," he said in a tone so insincere it wouldn’t fool a child. This was yet another provocation. 

"You know it irks me when you’re wet in the bed."

He let out a chuckle. She was so bad at keeping herself in check. It was adorable. She just sat there, pretending to be scrolling Instagram, little lines around her eyes forming from how tense her eyebrows frowned. "I do. And we seriously have to get your accidental innuendos under control. Can’t have you walking in public saying these things." He wiggled the moisturizer in front of her face. 

Finally, she snapped. "You are the most annoying and immature guy I’ve ever met. You’re impossible." Lando looked at her, like one would at an angry puppy that’s trying to jump a little too high. 

"One would almost say a miracle, huh."

Once again, he shook his bottle of moisturizer. Having had enough, she snatched it from his hands and put it back on the nightstand.  "It’s a miracle I haven’t killed you yet."

Without missing a beat, he shot back. "And how will we celebrate?"

She let out a sigh so loud the people in the next room must have heard it. Sitting there, not knowing what do with her hands anymore. He wished they were pulling his hair. 

"Are you seriously gonna make me say it."

He simply nodded, arching himself up. If her mind had been clouded before, it was now full on can't-see-further-than-my-nose type of situation.

He leaned over even closer, getting up all over in her personal space. As if that was even a thing anymore. 

Somehow, for some reason he would have yet unpack, his heart was beating like crazy. Say it. 

Accepting that he won what ever this was, she gulped and finally whispered. "Please."

He gave her a questioning look, as if he didn’t hear her. "Hm? Sorry?"

Still debating whether she should smack him or not, she repeated herself. "Please."

"What, do you want me to put the cream on you too? Hydration is important for the skin,“ he teased, enjoying himself immensely. 

"Lando."

"Y/N."

If he were to be completely honest, he was extremely proud of himself to withholding this long. Also, not sure how longer he could go on, given the fact his erection has entered the chat. 

To make it more complicated, she sat up and put her mouth almost onto his. He could smell her aroused energy. Almost taste her on his mouth. And that as even before she licked his lips lightly with her tongue.

"Say it," he mumbled, unable to make it not sound like a plea. 

It was different than what they’d usually do. Many couples dabbled in talking during sex, they never really did. Then something hit her. Like a secret wavelength he was sending her way. Maybe he needed her to talk today. So, finally, she broke in. 

"Lando, please, fuck me.“ 

All those times, he waited for the five red lights to go out only for him to smash the pedal, paid off. Like opening windows in a stale room, he let the fresh air in. Ripped the duvet covering her off, he grabbed her legs to pull her into a laying down position, not even giving her time to gasp. His moves were quick and oh-so-sure of himself. 

"Tell me what you need, love,“ he ordered, while he traced the line of her neck with his tongue. 

He wasn’t certain if she was finding the idea of talking as hot as he did. But he sure as hell hoped. It wasn’t like he needed any guidance at that point. Had every inch of her body mapped out already. But he longed to hear it from her mouth. Towering over her, he nibbled on her neck, one hand running through her hair and the other squeezing her hips, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. 

He noticed she stopped her breathing and locked him with her arms, holding on for dear life. 

"You, I need you, Lando,“ she let out, suddenly all uncertain and shy. It was the vulnerability in her tone that got him. He moved his lips a little lower, so that he could leave a mark on her collarbone, without fearing she’d regret it tomorrow. 

His body was moving on its own. Brushing on her upper thigh, opening her legs up and positioning himself between her. All the blood left his brain. 

"I want you to touch me. I want to walk with marks made from you in public, a secret only you will know.“ 

He was only now realizing how good of a fuel this was for him. Lightheaded, he folded her legs and pushed them to her stomach, making as small as possible. So that she would be completely in his control. 

To grand her wished, he left one mark just below he collarbone and moved to leave a second one on her breast. She let out a heavy breath. 

"Lando, please. I need you inside.“ 

He was almost getting too dizzy not to comply immediately. His erection throbbing into her leg. 

Then, out of nowhere, he flipped them both. 

"Get over me, baby,“ he hummed and positioned himself on his back. She gave him a questioning look and knelt above his dick. 

But he shook his head and grabbed her hips once again. "Up here.“ 

His hungry look must have encouraged her, so she moved until he stopped her, ending up directly above his mouth. "Sit down.“ 

His statement was followed by his strong hands literally pushing her down on his mouth. 

Eyes finally locked again, he smirked for the last time, before he buried his mouth in her. 

Lando wished he knew what he looked like from her perspective. Squished between her, licking and sucking, letting her move in the exact way how she wished. He felt her legs tense up with each move his tongue made. This all got even more intense when he squeezed her nipple between his fingers. 

He twirled his tongue through her folds, circled around the clit, which had her melt. 

"More,“ she demanded and positioned herself so that he could only access. 

Saliva and her juices were mixing in his mouth, the smell of her arousal hitting his nose and making him high. 

He upped his pace and went for the moves he already knew from the past would work. Watching her crumble, barely being able to keep herself up, to the point where she had to balance herself against the wall, was probably becoming his definition of heaven. His tongue moved in a fixed rhythm, exploring every possible place she had to offer. 

"Lando..." she moaned, completely lost due to the moves his tongue was making. 

He felt the urge to stop and take a breath, because judging by the slight movements of her thighs, she was getting close. 

And only moments later, her first release came. Wetter than ever, she held on dearly and with one high pitched sigh, she collapsed almost completely. He had to stop her from crushing his face. 

"Sorry," she let out mindlessly, unable to give him more reaction. 

Amused, he helped her back down and rolled her over on her back. 

Wasting no time, Lando pushed two fingers in her immediately, not giving her any time to calm down or rest. 

Wondering in which dimension he managed to send her off to, he watched, as she squeezed her eyes shut with every little twist her made. As her moans target to get intense again, he shut her off with a kiss. His tongue matching the movements of his fingers. He waited patiently, before he felt like she was getting lost in the same haze as bare minutes ago, only to remove his fingers and stop kissing her out of a sudden. 

Confusion and mild anger washed over her. 

"What-"

"I can’t hear you, baby," he teased and hovered his wet fingers above her mouth. "What was it that you wanted from me? Must have slipped my mind."

The look of pure desperation she gave him was the hottest shit he’d ever seen. 

"Lando…"

"Let’s made a deal, sunshine," he proclaimed and slowly shoved his wet fingers into her mouth. Like the good girl she was, she sucked on them without hesitation. „I’ll stop anything we’re doing, the moment you shut up. Ok?“

They were so close to each other with every possible body part. But it was not enough. It would never be enough. She nodded and he pulled his fingers out, slowly. 

"Deal, Norris."

A lightning shot through his body and nearly split him in half. She never used his last name before, ever. Why was that, out of all the things, doing it for him. She must have picked up on his momentary relapse and gained more confidence with that. "Stop fucking around, I want you inside. Now.“ 

He was already almost touching her entrance with his dick. Eye locked, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. 

"Please,“ she said, loud and proud, making it sound like a demand.

When he finally pushed into her, it was like anything else stopped existing. He belonged there and nothing else mattered. 

"Oh my God, yes,“ she whined, keeping up at her promise. "This is the best shit ever.“ 

Lando’s autopilot kicked in as the last braincell was truly gone. He started to move in a steady beat, finding it incredibly hard to keep himself from literally pounding into her immediately. 

„Faster,“ she encouraged as she held his shoulder with her other hand, to help her find balance. 

Lando was lost, in the best way possible. In her body, in his mind, in the fact that having sex was something completely different when you absolutely adored the person you’d be lying on top of. The built up energy finally finding its release, after days of dancing around. With each thrust, he lost touch with reality more. Only pure pleasure and reminiscence of her voice finding their way in. 

"Oh, God, baby." "Yes." "I need you." "It’s only you." "Shit, you’re so good."

Lando figured a long time ago that, for the lack of better comparison, their bodies must have been made for each other. Different shapes fitting perfectly into each other. They shared their sense of rhythm. It was never too short or too long. She scratched the itch before he got the chance to mention he had one. Lando felt almost sad for anyone who did not get to experience that. 

Somehow, their sex got better every time. 

He missed when she came for the second time, as he was too lost in his own release. His thrusts got more uneven, his body completely arched and then finally - like the slap in the face, pure bliss washed over him. He felt it in what seemed like every muscle, every strain of hair and in every inch of his lower stomach, spreading like nice hot drink in the middle of winter. All was good. There were no problems, only good things. She was perfect. 

He had a hard time recalling what were the exact words they’d share right after he came. The haze started to clear few moments after, when he found himself next to her, puddle of his cum in the middle of her stomach, noses touching each other and light kisses being left like little presents. 

As the heavy breaths grew lighter, he returned back to Earth.

"All good, baby?“ he asked, the sweetness in his tone coming naturally. Searched for any sign of discomfort in her face. He had hoped that she got exactly the kind of release she deserved. 

And many signs pointed towards that. The smile of her disbelief, red flushed face, sensitive skin that reacted to each light touch as if it was a strong grip. 

"I, um. Yes. More than good. Thank you.“ Most people would barely understand with they way she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You don’t have to thank me, ever.“ 

"I was taught that after every please comes a thank you, so pick you battle. All or nothing," she shot back, teasing as ever.

He didn't have to think much before replying. "Well, all of that then.“ 

She nudged him with her nose. "You seemed to enjoy me begging. Though begging might be a strong word. I would never do that." 

Even though she said it in a light tone, he knew it was intended seriously. "Maybe I just really needed to hear it today. That you want me. Need me.“ 

"What I love about this all is that we need each other. Both for different reasons, but that just makes it work even more.“ 

There was comfort in her answer. A realization, an answer to a question they never asked before. 

"I’ll be there for you tomorrow. We’ll crush it, as a team.“

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

BEFORE I START

Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.

THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK

btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.

The user is ladonb.kokosa

PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL

That being said. Lets get start with

Part 1 - Next

"Cryostasis ended"

"His vital signs are stable"

"Who could it be?"

"Disinfect the wounds"

"There are no more survivors"

"They authorized us to give him the implant."

The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.

He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.

When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.

She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.

Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.

He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.

Curly: "Linda..."

Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."

The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.

He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.

Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."

He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?

But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.

Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."

She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.

Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."

The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.

Curly: "What about us?"

Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."

Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.

The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.

Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.

Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.

But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.

Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.

Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."

She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.

Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"

Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"

Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 

Curly: "She was 12 back then..."

Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."

When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.

He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.

He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.

Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 

When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 

"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 

Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"

"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."

Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"

"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."

Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."

Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 

"...Lin"

Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."

She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 

"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."

You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 

"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."

You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.

Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 

What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 

"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 

He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 

You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 

Maybe... you weren't so bad.

[alsofoundinpeas]

The View from Here

Summary: After a few chance encounters, Spencer finds himself developing a crush on Y/N. When he discovers she lives across from him, he spends countless hours admiring her from a distance, too nervous to make the first move. But when her package is mistakenly delivered to his door, it sparks the beginning of something more than just a crush and stolen glances through the window. (Part Two)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This could be considered dubcon (Spencer watches reader through her window but doesn't realize that she actually wants him to) so please be aware of that! Masturbation (both m and f). Use of a sex toy/penetrative use of a sex toy (f!receiving). Perv!Spencer (he means well truly, but alas he is a man) but also a hint of Perv!Reader (since she's intentionally doing things to grab his attention?? I'm not quite sure how to label that I'm sorry!!) Themes of voyeurism/exhibitionism (they both watch each other get off). Sub!Spencer (gotta squint for it now but it'll be more prevalent in part two). Both fluffy and smutty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This was started to fill a request for sub!Spencer but I got carried away forgive me LMAO but part two is almost complete and will be out soon :') I wrote this with season two Reid in mind before the writers (further) traumatized the absolute fuck out of him. This is a bit different from my usual writing, so I truly hope you guys enjoy it! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 I truly do appreciate each and every single one of you and the feedback I get from you guys, I promise :') <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

The door slammed behind him as Spencer stormed into his apartment, tossing his satchel onto the couch with an angry groan. The stress of work had been wearing him down for weeks, but today had pushed him over the edge.

He’d just wrapped up the reports for their latest case and was on his way to deliver them to Hotch when an oblivious agent from the sex crimes unit collided with him. The force sent the cup of scalding coffee in her hands flying, drenching him and his case files. Instead of responding to her blubbered apologies, he had just stomped off to the bathroom to clean himself and calm down. Not only was it painful and humiliating, but it also destroyed all of his hard work. Work he'd now have to redo tomorrow.

Spencer exhaled sharply, fingers raking through his hair as he trudged toward the bedroom. All he wanted was to strip off his coffee-stained clothes and lose himself in the pages of his new book, anything to escape the tension of the day. Once inside, he moved to close the curtains but stopped short, his eyes landing on something unexpected just before he pulled them shut. His body went rigid, his heart racing as an unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

There, in the apartment directly across from his bedroom window, was Y/N.

Spencer had bumped into her a handful of times—their first meeting happening at the library just down the street when they'd both reached for the same book, then a few chance encounters after that at his favorite coffee shop, and the most recent interaction being one of the most mortifying moments of his life.

He’d stumbled over the sidewalk on his way to work, and he’d never wanted to disappear into the ground more than in that moment. But she had been there, her smile warm and gracious as she helped him gather the scattered books and case files that had spilled from his satchel, her kindness leaving him flustered and breathless. He’d been captivated by her the first time they met, but it was that moment that truly cemented his fascination with her.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat when he realized how wrong it was to be watching her through her bedroom window. But despite the guilt creeping in, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It was as if he were under some kind of spell, captivated by the sight of her spinning around her room, carefree and radiant.

She wore a loose t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder and the tiniest pair of shorts he’d ever seen, completely at ease in her own space. She held something in her hand, singing into it like a microphone, completely lost in the music. Spencer didn’t realize when it happened, but a smile tugged at his lips, the stress of the day forgotten as he watched her. Her joy was so genuine and infectious that it pulled at him in ways he hadn’t expected, leaving him momentarily breathless.

His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N twirled around, singing as she faced her window. Spencer released a startled yelp, frantically yanking the curtains shut before she could catch him staring. His heart raced in his chest as he dared a quick peek through the fabric, anxious to see if she had noticed. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious, still happily dancing around her room, unaware of his presence.

"Oh my God," Spencer muttered, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized he hadn’t been caught staring like a complete weirdo at the woman he’d developed a crush on, despite having barely exchanged five sentences with her.

He was sure she didn't even remember his name. Why would she? All he'd managed to do during their brief interactions (besides busting his ass on the concrete the one time) was stutter out barely audible attempts at conversation before hastily retreating, his face scarlet and slacks uncomfortably tight.

Spencer had assumed Y/N lived nearby, but he hadn’t realized she was this close.

The day's weight melted away as Spencer peeled off his work clothes and slipped into his pajamas. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and sank back into his pillows, propping himself up against the headboard. But as he tried to focus on the pages, the image of Y/N dancing in her room kept invading his thoughts. His mind refused to settle, consumed with ideas of how he might run into her again now that he knew that not only was she just a building away—she was right across from him.

As the weeks passed, Spencer’s routine began to mirror Y/N’s more and more as he grew increasingly familiar with her schedule.

He began waking up earlier, noticing that she typically left her apartment an hour before he needed to head to work. With the extra time, Spencer found himself watching her with quiet awe each morning while she got ready, fascinated by how the soft light from the window seemed to illuminate her features as she did her hair and makeup. He also started visiting his favorite coffee shop daily instead of just once a week, hoping for a chance encounter before his workday began.

Night after night Spencer found his gaze inevitably drawn to her window, the soft glow of her bedroom lighting luring him in like a moth to a flame. He would trace her movements, pretending to read his book as it shielded his face, should he need to feign innocence. Something was alluring about her, even in the simplest moments—whether she was folding laundry or typing away on her computer, she was impossible to look away from.

Spencer couldn’t shake his curiosity about Y/N’s habit of leaving her curtains open.

Did she know he could see her? Was it intentional? Their apartments, situated at the ends of the buildings on the top floors, offered a level of privacy that made him feel certain (or at least, he desperately hoped) that no one else could be watching. Perhaps she’d noticed his frequent absences and simply stopped caring about keeping them shut.

The first case away from D.C. after Spencer learned Y/N was so close was more difficult than he expected. As he lay awake in his hotel room, his thoughts kept drifting to her, and the longing grew with each passing hour. He missed her. The only thing driving him was the need to finish the case quickly so he could return to the familiar comfort of his bed, where he could silently admire her from a distance.

The longer he thought about her, the tighter his boxers got. Spencer huffed out a pitiful whine, his hands clenching and unclenching beside himself as he tried to fight his shameful thoughts. This wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts about her since meeting her, no. But it is the first time he's had the mental image of her undressing to go along with his fantasies.

The first time it happened, Spencer had all but thrown himself off his bed in his haste to close his curtains. His heart had pounded so hard his chest ached as he'd squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sight of her raising her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the ground out of his mind. The second time, he took a little more time to slink over to his window and draw his curtains, his pulse racing at the sight of her bare back and the smallest glimpse of lacy panties as she began to shimmy out of her pants. The third time, he had crouched by his window, peeking out despite having pulled his curtains closed, and watched as she stripped completely before heading into her conjoined bathroom.

That was the first and (so far) only time he'd touched himself to what he'd seen.

The moment her bathroom door had clicked shut, Spencer sprang to his feet and hurried into his own bathroom, tearing his clothes off before stepping underneath the stream of hot water. One of his palms smacked the wall while his other hand frantically pumped his aching cock, whimpers and groans flowing freely from his lips as he imagined Y/N's hand around him instead of his own. It didn't take long for him to spill into his hand, and unfortunately, it took even less time for the guilt to slam into him at the realization of what he'd done.

After that night, Spencer had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let it happen again, knowing just how inherently wrong it was to jerk off to the sight of his neighbor (the woman he secretly admired) getting undressed when she had no idea she had even been watched.

But tonight, alone and frustrated in his hotel room, he was struggling to stick to that vow.

After another hour of tossing and turning in bed, Spencer released a resigned sigh. "Just this once," he murmured to himself, swallowing hard. He let his hand slip underneath the waistband of his boxers to push them down his thighs before spitting in his palm, hissing at the contact as his hand wrapped around his arousal. His eyes fluttered shut as his imagination began to take over, his hand slowly increasing its pace as images of Y/N and her lacy panties raced through his mind.

Spencer's mouth hung open as his thumb swiped over the swollen tip of his cock, a bead of precum oozing out and aiding his movements. He pictured her hovering above him, her gaze teasing as she stroked him faster and faster. He imagined how she'd sound as she talked him through it, her sweet voice luring him closer and closer to the edge. His hips bucked into his hand as his climax took hold of him, a choked moan of Y/N's name ripping its way from his throat as he painted his heaving chest with his cum.

With shaky hands, he cleaned himself, still dizzy from the aftershocks of his orgasm. After wiping himself off, he collapsed onto the bed, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed him down. That night, his dreams were filled with Y/N—her radiant smile, her captivating voice, and the tenderness in her eyes whenever they met his. When he woke the next morning, breathless and murmuring her name, he realized he was in deep.

What Spencer didn’t know was that Y/N had known exactly what she was doing all along.

From the moment she reached for the same book as him—an act carefully planned to give her an excuse to talk to him—she’d been captivated by the stuttering genius. New to the neighborhood, she had noticed him a few times before finally gathering the courage to make her move. All it took was his flustered "Oh! I-I’m so sorry, here—" paired with furrowed brows and those wide, innocent eyes, and she was utterly entranced.

When Y/N discovered that Spencer lived right across from her, it felt like she’d hit the jackpot.

After their previous encounters, she’d quickly noticed the effect she had on him, and from that moment, she devised a plan to capture his attention. She began with subtle moves, leaving her curtains open one night so he’d realize she was the one across from him. She chose an outfit she was sure would draw his gaze, and when he nearly ripped his curtain rod off the wall, convinced she’d caught him looking, she knew she’d succeeded.

When Y/N noticed he was waking up earlier, watching her get ready with curious eyes over what he clearly thought was a cleverly placed book (which, in reality, did nothing to hide his attention), she decided it was time to raise the stakes.

The first time she undressed with the curtains open, she sank to her knees cackling at how quickly Spencer had scrambled out of bed to shut his own. The second time, she relished in how he hesitated before shutting his curtains so he could catch a glimpse of her lacy panties (ones she’d chosen with him in mind), but it still wasn't enough. By the third time, she was done teasing. She’d stripped down completely bare in her room, grinning smugly as she turned to walk into her bathroom because she’d seen Spencer not-so-subtly peeking through his curtains.

When Spencer still didn’t make a move after that, Y/N decided she was done waiting.

With him away on a case for the past three days, she saw the perfect opportunity to set her new plan in motion. After work one evening, she made her way to his building, quickly locating his apartment number—a detail that, to her surprise, matched hers. Smiling to herself, she placed her order and waited for him to return, ready for the next phase of her plan to unfold.

After nearly twelve grueling days away, Spencer finally returned late Friday night, aching for the comfort of home—and, more importantly, the sight of Y/N. Exhausted, he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, eager to collapse into bed and wake up to her face rather than the grim case photos that had dominated his thoughts. His eyes half-lidded with fatigue, he fumbled with the key, unlocking the door before shoving it open.

“Oh! What the-“

Spencer cursed under his breath as he stumbled, his eyes dropping to the package at his feet. Frowning, he bent down slowly to inspect it. He hadn’t ordered anything, and there was no reason to expect anything from his mom. So... what was this?

The package was a light pink, medium-sized bag. Spencer nudged it onto its other side to check the sender, and his breath caught. It was addressed to Y/N, though she’d written the wrong number in the street address, causing it to end up at his door. He instantly recognized the name of the online boutique, having (unfortunately) heard Emily, JJ, and Penelope brazenly talk about ordering sex toys and such from this place.

What could Y/N have possibly ordered from there?

Spencer was wide awake now, his pulse quickening as he grabbed the package, slammed the door shut, and locked it. He carried it into the kitchen, turning on the light as he went. There was no way he’d open it—he knew that would be both illegal and downright creepy. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn’t resist running his hands over the package, trying to guess what was inside.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully handled the package, giving it a slight squeeze. He could feel the soft outline of fabric inside a smaller plastic bag, his mind spinning with possibilities about what kind of set Y/N might have ordered. A small, involuntary gasp escaped him as his fingers brushed against something hard, separately wrapped from the lingerie. Was that… a dildo? Vibrator, maybe?

A quick glance at the clock told him it was far too late to return her package now. He swallowed, setting the bag down on the table with a mental note to take it to her first thing in the morning. He had the weekend off, and he knew she didn’t work weekends, so it wouldn't be a problem bringing it over. The only problem was going to be looking her in the eyes without turning into a complete mess.

Spencer rushed to his room, his excitement growing as he headed to bed, knowing he’d finally see Y/N tomorrow—in person, not just through her window.

The morning arrived quicker than he had expected, but for the first time, he was happy to hear his alarm. It was 9:30 a.m., giving him enough time to shower and get dressed before making the short walk to Y/N's apartment. More importantly, it would give her a chance to wake up before he just showed up at her door with her package in hand and rambling like a nervous mess.

Spencer’s nerves began to take over as he finished his shower and started getting dressed, his hands trembling as he pulled on his sweater. The last time they'd spoken was when he'd all but face-planted into concrete in front of her and then practically bolted off once she'd helped him gather his things (after a lengthy, awkward apology of course). What if she thought he was a freak?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the package, summoned the last of his courage, and walked out the door.

A hesitant knock at her front door had Y/N grinning smugly as she rose from the couch and headed toward the door. She’d been waiting for this since she’d seen Spencer’s light come on late the night before. Her package was finally here.

The door opened to reveal a nervous Spencer, his eyes lighting up when they landed on her. He instinctively adjusted his glasses, his nose twitching as a small, shy smile appeared on his face.

"Spencer! Hey! What brings you by?" Y/N beamed, stepping aside to let him in. She had to suppress a giggle at her innocent act—she knew exactly why he was here.

Spencer blinked in surprise, both at her invitation and the fact that she remembered his name, pausing briefly before stepping into her apartment. His gaze wandered around, taking in the cozy surroundings with quiet admiration. When he realized she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, his face flushing as he held up the package.

"I, uh… I just wanted to return this," Spencer stammered, his words tripping over each other. "You had one number wrong on the street address, and, funny enough, we have the same apartment number, so it ended up at my door. I thought the least I could do was bring it over, especially after you helped me when I… well, fell." He offered a shy smile, his nerves still running rampant.

Y/N accepted the package with a smile, her fingers brushing lightly against his before he quickly pulled his hand back. "I could’ve sworn I got the address right this time," she said with a teasing laugh. "You’d think after a few months here I’d have it down by now, I'm sorry."

Spencer quickly shook his head, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart and the lingering sensation of her touch as he waved it off. "You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. It happens," he said sincerely, his fingers nervously twisting the ends of his sleeves now that the package was no longer in his hands. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind bringing your mail by anytime. I just hate the thought of it sitting at my door or in my mailbox while I’m away," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he gave her a warm smile.

"Well, aren't you quite the gentleman?"

Y/N placed the package on her coffee table and then headed toward the kitchen, gesturing for Spencer to follow. He blushed profusely, swallowing hard as he willed away the dirty thoughts that were caused by that simple comment before trailing after her. She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she reached into her cabinet for two mugs, smirking to herself as she noticed him quickly avert his gaze from where it had landed on her ass.

Y/N placed the mugs on the counter, then turned to Spencer with a genuine smile. "Thanks for bringing it to me instead of just sending it back like most people would," she said. "How about a cup of coffee as a small token of my appreciation?"

Spencer nodded, thanking her as she fixed them both a cup. She raised an eyebrow, watching him add enough sugar to send a horse into cardiac arrest, but she kept quiet. Once they’d both prepared their cups to their liking, they headed back to the living room, Y/N sitting close enough that Spencer could feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him.

"So... did you take a peek inside of it?"

Spencer coughed violently, choking on the sip he’d just taken, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he frantically shook his head. Y/N’s expression shifted to concern as she patted his back, gently rubbing in soothing circles to help him catch his breath.

"What? N-no, I would never! That's literally illegal and so invasive—" Spencer sputtered, his eyes wide as he stared at her, clearly taken aback.

Y/N's brows furrowed briefly before she erupted into laughter, her head tilting back as she laughed loudly. Leaning in, she rested a hand on his thigh, her tone softening. "Spencer, sweetheart, I was just joking," she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

He relaxed immediately, fighting the urge to lean into her touch as her hand lingered on his leg. "Thanks for that," Spencer said with a playful roll of his eyes. "Just what I needed this morning—choking on my drink and desperately hoping you knew the Heimlich maneuver." His cheeks were still flushed, a mix of embarrassment from her teasing and the aftereffects of his coughing fit.

After a pot of coffee and hours of conversation, Spencer left with a grin so wide his cheeks ached and Y/N’s number saved in his phone "just in case any more of her mail ended up at his door." He silently thanked whatever force had kept him from backing out earlier that day, grateful for the time he’d gotten to spend with her because of it. He’d found himself falling even harder for her, already yearning for her company despite having just left her place.

That night, as Spencer climbed into bed, something caught his eye from his window. He frowned in confusion as he noticed Y/N’s curtains were open even though they’d been closed just an hour ago. He’d assumed she’d already gone to bed, but apparently, he was mistaken.

He craned his neck, searching for her. She wasn’t in her room, as she usually was when the curtains were open. Where could she be? His jaw nearly hit the floor when she finally appeared, his eyes widening in awe at the sight of her.

Y/N walked into her room from the bathroom, wearing the most stunning lingerie set Spencer had ever seen. The lilac fabric complemented her skin in a way that had him almost drooling on himself, and the thin lace left little to the imagination (though he'd already seen what was underneath it once before and knew exactly how incredibly sexy her body was bare). The sight had his cock stiffening in his boxers, and his teeth dug into his lower lip in anticipation as he watched her.

Spencer nearly toppled out of bed as he watched her crouch down to grab her torn-open package, her hand reaching inside to pull out a light-blue rabbit vibrator. He knew he should get up, close the curtains, look away—do something. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Instead, he watched in an almost trance-like state as Y/N crawled onto her bed, swallowing hard as she settled back against her pillows. His hand wandered down his body, palming at his erection over his boxers as a whimper slipped from his lips while he watched her legs spread slowly open, propped up and giving him the perfect view of her clothed pussy. He felt overwhelming guilt, especially after the morning they'd shared, but he was powerless against the pull she had on him.

The close proximity of the buildings had always annoyed Spencer, the narrow space between them so tight he swore he could reach out and touch the other building if he tried. But now, he couldn’t have been more grateful. His bed was on the opposite side of the room that Y/N’s was, leaving her perfectly positioned for him to see her from his spot.

Y/N dragged the tip of the vibrator up and down her inner thigh, teasing herself as the fabric of the lace dampened with her arousal. Her head lolled back against the pillows, and her chest rose and fell with a sigh as she finally placed the vibrator against her clit through her panties. Her back arched at the touch, and her lips opened around a moan he desperately wanted to hear.

Spencer considered himself a sane man (for the most part). But he had never been more tempted in his life to leap through a window than he was right now. If it meant landing in her room so he could at least have the chance to beg for a taste of her, he'd happily do it.

His hand halted its movement, instead moving to his waistband so he could wriggle out of the constricting fabric. He kicked his boxers to the floor like they'd scorned him before his hand wrapped around his cock once more. He leaned forward, letting saliva dribble from his lips to coat himself before stroking himself slowly, teasing himself the way Y/N was right across from him in her room.

When Y/N dipped the vibrator into her panties, Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. He watched in rapt fascination as she paused her movements, her free hand shoving the lace down her thighs before she continued. With the fabric now out of the way, Y/N began to run the tip of the vibrator up and down her slit, collecting her arousal and spreading it around before she slowly eased the toy into herself.

An obscene moan ripped its way from Spencer's throat at the sight, and his hand sped up while his eyes struggled to stay open. He watched through hooded lids as she began to fuck herself in earnest now, her hips rocking into the toy and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as she brought herself to the edge. Spencer whimpered as his body began to writhe against his sheets, sparks of pleasure zinging up and down his spine as he worked himself toward his climax.

All it took to send him over the edge was the sight of Y/N's legs thrashing as she came around the toy, a sight that left him both so aroused he couldn't breathe and so jealous of a toy he debated just how truly sane he considered himself to be after this. With a swipe of his thumb over his flushed head, Spencer came in spurts across his tummy, his hand pumping gently through the aftershocks until he was trembling and gasping Y/N's name like it was a mantra.

Once Spencer could finally open his eyes, he looked over at Y/N's window and saw she was no longer in bed, the soft light spilling from under her bathroom door the only sign of where she was. He rolled out of his bed to indulge in what was now becoming a routine walk of shame to his bathroom to clean himself off, his head spinning from what he'd just seen. He knew the shame of his actions would catch up with him in the morning, but for now, exhaustion and elation kept him from caring.

Spencer stumbled back into his room, half-asleep and ready to crash when his phone buzzed. Crawling into bed, he reached for it, curious about who would be contacting him at this hour. His heart stuttered in his chest, eyes widening in shock as he read the message on the screen.

Glad to see that you enjoyed the show, sweetheart. Next time, just come over. <3

Continued A/N's: AHHH I truly hope you guys enjoyed that! The next part gets FILTHYYYY and I can't wait to finish it hahahaaaa. Please let me know what you think because I'm thinking of doing more in the future that would be similar but of course I want to make content you guys will actually enjoy as well <3

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter Four: Depression

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: With some comforting words from Sarah and Daniel, you and Joel work things out.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, grief, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), oral f!receiving, lil size kink, unprotected piv sex, feelings, therapy

WC: 8.3K

Series Masterlist

Daniel's office was always the hardest room to spend any amount of time in since his death, but the hurt compounded even more when you were reminded of the first time you kissed Joel on the green couch in the corner.

You weren't even sure what you were doing. The idea of moving out of town wasn't concrete, per se, but you still found yourself packing up Daniel's office. What started simple enough with taping up open boxes of books turned into almost two hours of scrutinizing every single item in his desk. Business cards, scribbled notes, old bills, and a few pictures of the two of you filled his junk drawer. Half used pens, a calculator, an old pair of glasses and the medal his university granted him when he went back to give a commencement speech three years prior filled another. But what ultimately drew your attention was a yellow legal pad shoved underneath his laptop. Pages and pages and pages of notes filled a decent chunk of it. From what you could tell, it was an outline for the next book he was in the middle of writing, the very same manuscript you had given to Ellie. Most of it didn't make sense to you, but you read it anyway. Your fingertips traced over his familiar, elegant handwriting. It was one of the things you loved about Daniel when you first met. He didn't have terrible chicken scratch like most men you knew. He took his time when he wrote. He savored every letter. Each word was a beautiful mix of print and cursive that was so uniquely him.

Your eyes grew a little misty as you admired each page of notes, but you weren't sad. On the contrary, you felt happy. You felt connected to him again, if only just for a brief few minutes. But when you got to the last page, what you read stole your breath and destroyed the resolve you managed to build up.

To the love of my life. My better half. My biggest fan and toughest critic.

I can't wait to marry you, my love. I look forward to lazy Sunday mornings with your homemade waffles and my terrible coffee for the rest of our lives. You deserve the world. Someone to worship at your feet and be there for you when you're feeling weak. I've got no idea why you've chosen me, but every day I wake up eternally grateful you did. Just know you will make me happy until my dying breath, and I hope I am able to do the same for you.

The only thing I ever want in this life is to see you happy.

Tears streamed down your face. You had to shove the pad of paper away before drops fell on the page and ruined Daniel's last message to you. Swiveling around, you opened a few drawers until you found a box of tissues, then you buried your face in your hands and wept. Wept for the life you could have had with Daniel and for the one you foolishly threw away with Joel. Shockingly, his words managed to ease the guilt that had settled heavy in your chest for the past week. While he had been talking about himself being the one to make you happy in his dedication, you knew Daniel. He wasn't a selfish man. He was caring and sweet and kind. And he wouldn't want you to be miserable and lonely for the rest of your life. He truly was always happy whenever you were happy.

Joel was like that, too. He was so different from Daniel in many ways, but at their core, they were the same. They were soft and trusting and loving. They cared so deeply for you and wanted to make you happy. Both were so gentle and careful with you, patient and funny. It was no wonder you found yourself drawn to Joel in the first place.

Your doorbell chimed unexpectedly downstairs, followed by an urgent rap on the door. You frowned and snatched up a new tissue so you could dab at your cheeks while you made your way down the steps. Glancing out the window on the bottom stair, you saw a small, unfamiliar sedan in your driveway. You hesitated for just a moment with your hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering who it could be. Not many people stopped by your house. The paranoid part of you wondered if it was a reporter, the trauma from being harassed after Daniel's passing still living somewhere deep inside. But then a young girl's voice drifted through from the other side, startling you.

"Hey, please open up. It's Sarah," she said, then paused before adding, "Joel's daughter."

You shakily unlocked the door and swung it open. She appeared slightly disheveled, like she was in a hurry. Or maybe you were just reading her energy because she certainly came off rushed.

"Is everything okay?" you asked her. Visions of Joel at a job site pinned under some heavy beams flashed through your mind, an unexpected knee jerk reaction that was no doubt trauma from the car accident with Daniel.

"Yeah, everything's fine - sorry," she said immediately when she realized how it must have looked to show up at your door out of the blue. "I was hoping we could talk. Do you have a minute?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah," you said, glancing over your shoulder before opening your door wider for her. "Come on in."

You watched her slide off her sneakers and you closed the door before pointing towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink? I have-"

"No, thank you. I don't think I have a ton of time, actually," she said, worrying her lower lip as she glanced out the front window towards your driveway.

"Well, alright. Here, have a seat," you replied, ushering her into the sitting room. She sunk down onto your sofa and you paused for a moment before choosing to sit in the soft leather chair across from her. Sarah's hands fidgeted in her lap as her eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail of the old Victorian home before letting her gaze linger on a few framed photos of you and Daniel on the mantle.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, tearing her eyes away to look at you. "I'm so fucking sorry. I was rude and I had no right to treat you the way I did. I know it's not an excuse but I was just... surprised. I guess when I thought my dad was ready to move on, he would have dated someone closer to his age." Sarah took a steadying breath while you remained silent, stunned by her sudden outburst. "Then I realized it wasn't really about the age thing. I don't think it would have mattered who he dated. It was just... weird, I guess."

Sarah shamefully stared down at her fingers tangled in her lap, waiting for you to wrap your head around her apology.

"Uh, wow. Well... thank you. That means a lot to me," you told her with a soft sniffle. "Your dad always spoke so much about you, it felt like I knew you, in a way. After everything the two of you had been through, I don't blame you one bit."

She risked a glance up at you, eyes all wide and watery.

"Really? Just like that?"

You smiled and nodded.

"Of course. I'm not going to hold it against you," you shrugged. "We weren't really trying to keep it a secret from you, just so you know. It was more like we were taking it slow and seeing where things went." Your eyes drifted to a photo of you and Daniel on the wall and your chest tightened. "It wasn't - it was hard for us both."

Sarah followed your gaze and felt the guilt creep back up.

"I know. My dad told me about your fiancé. I'm so sorry," she said, turning to look at you. "I loved his books. He was so creative. Like, the worlds he built up were so incredible and beautiful. He was one of my favorite authors." Then she remembered the gift you had given Joel and she added, "Thank you for those books. The ones you gave my dad. They're absolutely stunning and I promise to take good care of them, I know those are rare editions."

Your face lit up. "You're welcome. He would have wanted someone like you to have them. He was so appreciative of his readers for giving him a platform to live his dream."

"He sounded like a really great guy," she said sympathetically.

"He was," you replied softly. "After the accident, I could hardly get out of bed for weeks. I thought my life was over. I know how dramatic that sounds but I never thought I'd be able to move on, until-"

You cut yourself off, but Sarah knew what you were going to say. She inched forward on the couch with her eyebrows knit together.

"Could you please give him another chance?" she pleaded. "I don't want to see him lonely. I don't want you to be lonely. And, shit... you were getting him to actually exercise and eat vegetables!"

You laughed and shook your head.

"I didn't ask him to do that."

"But he was doing it because of you," she protested. "I've been trying to get him to eat better for years and he knows you a few weeks and suddenly he's chopping up peppers for dinner. It's definitely you."

You felt your cheeks warm as you let your eyes wander aimlessly around the room, surrounded by the memories of your first true love while sitting across from the extension of your second.

"Okay. I'll give him a call," you relented. When your eyes found hers again, she was looking out your window.

"I don't think that's necessary," she said, standing up. The corner of her mouth twitched and when you heard a car door slam in your driveway, you jumped up from your chair. You had barely made it three steps before you heard Joel rapping loudly on your front door.

"Ugh, Dad, you're filthy," Sarah scolded when she swung open the door with a frown.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, wild eyes glancing over her shoulder. "Where's-"

He stopped short when you stepped into view behind her, giving him a shy wave. Sarah shifted to the side with a sly smile, eyes darting back and forth between you and Joel. Neither of you spoke. There was so much to say but you had no idea how to start. Then your gaze drifted down his frame, taking in his dusty jeans, boots, and black work tshirt. Memories of the day you visited him at work for lunch flashed through your mind and you swallowed tightly.

"O-okay," Sarah said, slowly drawing the word out when she bent over to slide her sneakers back on. "My work is done here. I'll leave you to it."

Joel blinked and tore his eyes away from you to look at his daughter, who was in the process of squeezing past him.

"What'dya mean?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to clear the air. Rest is up to you, old man," she teased, poking him in the shoulder. She gave you a friendly wave goodbye before skipping down the porch steps and back towards her car.

Joel's head swiveled back and forth between you and his daughter, still confused and trying to figure out what to do but when Sarah backed out of your driveway and disappeared down the street with a playful honk of her horn, his choice was made.

He turned back to look at you. Now that Sarah was gone and the initial bewilderment wore off, Joel's nerves began to make his heart thump faster and sweat collect under his collar.

"Do you, um," you glanced into your home over your shoulder before meeting his eye again. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes," he replied far too eagerly, making you smile when you held the door open for him. He toed off his boots and cringed. "Sorry for the mess. Was just gettin' home from work and found them two stirrin' shit up so I just raced on over."

"That's alright, I don't mi- wait, two?"

Joel nodded and followed you into your kitchen.

"Ellie came by lookin' for me 'n found Sarah," he explained, delicately sitting down at the kitchen table and praying he didn't leave a trail of dust behind him. The thought of sullying your beautiful home, the place where you found peace, irked him.

"Ellie?" you repeated, voice laced with surprise as you scooped coffee grounds into the filter. "Why did Ellie stop by?"

"To tell me you're skippin' town," he replied bluntly.

Your finger froze on the button of the coffee maker. Shit.

"That's not entirely true," you replied feebly. You turned around, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed protectively over your chest. Fuck, why did he have to look so good? Sitting there in your kitchen after a long day at work watching you mill around had your mind wandering, wondering what it would be like to have him come home to you just like that every single day.

"It was something I was considering," you continued. "My parents have been hounding me to move back home."

"Thought you wanted to stay in Texas," he said softly. You watched his finger anxiously dig into the side of your table.

"I did. I mean, I do. It's just..." you trailed off and looked around the room. Your throat grew tight when you said, "I can't live in this house anymore, Joel. I love it, but... I don't - I can't-"

Tears welled up in your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the floor, not noticing when Joel stood up and crossed the room until you smelled the familiar scent of sawdust and peppermint right in front of you.

You didn't even allow yourself to think. You just stepped forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you let the tears silently fall while he held you close, murmuring into your hair that you were going to be alright.

"Don't go," he whispered when your tears had slowed and the coffee pot pinged, alerting you it was finished brewing. Your fingers tightly gripped at his shirt.

"Joel-"

"Please," he begged, pulling back just far enough so you could see the vulnerability etched across his face. "I'm sorry I didn't make you stay that night. I'm sorry I didn't run after you. When I met you, you took me by surprise, darlin', and I'm way outta my area of expertise here, but I-"

Your mouth crashed against his, silencing him with your answer. In an instant, his hands flew up to cup your face, cradling you gently, carefully, yet you still felt his strength wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

"Sweetheart," Joel gasped, pulling away from your kiss but still pressing his forehead against yours, unwilling to let you go. "I don't think I can survive losin' someone again," he told you selfishly, voice trembling as your fingers fanned across his cheek. Fresh tears stung your eyes as your lips found the underside of his jaw and he sighed, dropping his arms to wrap around you tightly.

You weren't sure exactly what it was, but something shifted. Maybe it had been enough to hear from Sarah directly that she was okay with you and her dad being together. Maybe it was the note you found in Daniel's desk. Maybe it was the beautiful reminder that so many people cared enough about you to drop what they were doing to fight for you to stay in their lives. Whatever it was, it had you feeling at finally peace after losing Daniel. The heaviness in your chest was replaced with warmth and hope. It made you believe it was okay to move on and let go.

Your hand that was pressed against his cheek fell to his chest and slowly trailed down his stomach until you felt the cool metal of his belt buckle against your fingertips. Beneath your lips, you felt his neck muscles tense and his pulse skyrocket.

"Wh-what're you doin'?" Joel murmured. His throat bobbed when your fingers hooked around the buckle, pinky slowly sliding the leather from the clasp.

"Do you want me to stop?" you whispered. You opened your eyes to gaze up at him, lips hovering over a red mark you had left just above his collarbone. His skin tasted salty from his dried sweat after working hard all day and it had your mind going a little fuzzy.

Joel shook his head and closed his eyes. You took it as your invitation to continue leaving kisses down the column of his throat while your hand resumed its work on his belt.

"I didn't get a chance to clean up," he rasped when his belt opened loose around his hips. He felt his hands begin to tremble from the nerves and anticipation, so he took a deep breath.

"That's okay. I like you like this," you mumbled. You began to tug on his shirt, pulling the hem from his pants. You were working with urgency, fearful that your guilt might pop up out of nowhere and ruin the moment.

Joel chuckled, pushing his own insecurities aside when he felt your palms slide across his too-soft stomach.

"Why the hell would you like me filthy from a job site all day?" he found himself asking, more so to just calm his nerves a bit as you continued to blindly explore his upper half underneath his shirt.

You nipped playfully at his skin before you said, "Because it's a reminder of how hard you work. And how much you deserve to be taken care of," you explained, pushing him so he began to walk backwards out of your kitchen.

Joel's breath caught in his throat. Unknowingly, you had said the very words he longed to hear and it sent a rush of blood between his legs. He hadn't been taken care of by anybody in so long that he almost forgot what it felt like to have someone else help carry the burden of his daily responsibilities. Someone else to lean on when he felt weak and someone else to turn to when he wanted to share in his happiness.

"You- you sure 'bout this?" he stammered when his heels knocked into the bottom step. You pulled away and grabbed his hand. With a firm nod, you began to lead him up the stairs, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

On the way to your bedroom, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. His face was flushed, hair dusty and unkempt. His shirt looked messier than usual after you had been tugging on it and he cringed when he noticed the hole at the collar he must have missed earlier that morning when he was getting ready. But even with all that, he still felt giddy. He had a smile stretched so wide it practically hurt his cheeks. And although he looked a mess, his pants half undone with his cock already straining against the denim, he didn't feel foolish or out of place. He felt like a teenager sneaking up to a girl's room while her parents slept. He felt excited and happy and hopeful not only for what was waiting for him in your bedroom, but for what the future held. And just like that, any remaining reservations about his age or physique disappeared when he crossed the threshold into your bedroom for the first time.

His eyes bounced eagerly around the room in the few moments he had before you tugged him down to your level, pressing your mouth feverishly against his while you worked to undo your own pants. The first thing he had noticed was your room was very you. Girly colors and light furniture decorated every square inch. The paintings on the walls were of flowers and some inspirational quote he didn't have time to read. Your bed had a canopy. Sheer white curtains were tied to your headboard and it made him smile when he thought of you waking up every morning in such a beautiful room.

He would find out later you had completely redecorated after Daniel passed away. Top to bottom, new paint and furniture. It made sense. You didn't want to be haunted by your past, turn to look at something he built or picked out. Didn't want to think about the intimate moments you had with him and never would again every time you went to sleep.

Joel didn't have much to even consider any of that in the moment because you had fallen back onto your bed, jeans abandoned on the floor while sweetly reaching out for him to join you.

"Christ," he muttered, unable to stop his eyes from flickering down your body and over your bare legs before pausing on the lacy panties hugging your hips.

Ten years. It had been ten fucking years since he had sex. And you were so goddamn beautiful and perfect, spread out for him with your chest heaving and lust filling your eyes as you waited for him to snap out of it and come join you.

His gaze met yours and something unspoken passed between you. You both had your respective baggage and you each knew it, yet you trusted one another with the most sensitive pieces of your souls. And that had to mean something. That had to mean what you had was special.

He bent forward, fists pressing into the mattress on either side of you, and began to pepper kisses up your legs. He could hear your breath grow heavy the closer he got to the apex of your thighs and it made him smile to hear someone so perfect as you become so affected by his touch. He had hardly done anything and already you were wiggling and offering him soft little moans when you felt his exhale fan over your clothed sex.

There was no way he was going to last. Ten years. He wasn't even sure he still remembered his old moves. Even if he did, he wanted you so badly he probably wouldn't have enough time before he came.

But there was one thing he did remember how to do, and if his memory served him well, he was pretty damn good at it.

"Can I take these off, honey?" he asked with his fingers looped around the sides of your panties. His voice came out deeper than he expected, making a shiver shoot down your spine.

"Mhmm," was all you could manage, then you squeezed your legs together and lifted your hips, giving him what he needed to gently pull your underwear down your legs then tossed them onto the floor.

He inhaled sharply when your legs fell open, revealing the wetness that had already collected, all slick and shiny and just for him.

"Goddamn, you're perfect," he said breathlessly. His hands spread wide over your soft thighs, moving slowly to curve around and hold you open. When his knees hit the carpeted floor and he settled his shoulders between your legs, he heard your breath quicken. His cock twitched, still stuck in the restricting confines of his jeans, when he saw a fresh drip of arousal roll through your slit, and he couldn't hold back. He lunged forward, tongue curling to catch it with a groan, not even registering the surprised noise you made. His eyes fluttered closed as he went back for more, lips suctioning around your folds and tongue diving inside for another taste.

"O-oh my god, Joel," you moaned, fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets. His chest swelled with pride, your broken voice only serving to encourage him further.

Your mind went blissfully blank as he expertly dragged his tongue up and down, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it eagerly. His jaw worked steadily, widening his mouth with each messy kiss against your cunt. Every flick of his tongue was deliberate, every suck of his lips exquisite. He had you trembling under his grasp in a matter of minutes, completely forgetting that it had been a long time since you had last been touched, as well.

When your hands grabbed roughly at his hair, he grunted but never faltered. The slight pain prickling his scalp from the sharp tugs on his greying curls kept him focused and in the moment. It made him pay attention to every sound and thrust of your hips, memorizing what made you come undone. But when his tongue was flooded with another wave of arousal, all thick and sweet and musky, it had his head swimming and his own hips bucking pathetically against the side of your bed.

He forgot how much he fucking loved this. How enjoyable it was to have a gorgeous woman become a writhing mess from his mouth. To hear his name like a song inbetween heavy gasps of air. To run his tongue over the softest and warmest place imaginable. To hear the high pitched whines when he finally scraped his teeth over that swollen bud he always saved for last.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out when his lips wrapped around your clit. "Fuck! Joel- ohmygod - Joel... please d-don't stop, please..." you begged, his cock swelling painfully in his jeans at the sound. He groaned loudly in response, refusing to remove his mouth even for a second. You tasted too good and sounded even better, he just couldn't get enough.

You were chanting curses mixed with his name, hips rocking against his face in rhythm with every swirl of his tongue around your clit. Under his fingers, your thighs tensed and he smiled to himself before he scraped his teeth gently over your bundle of nerves once again.

His timing was perfect. You shouted his name, voice raspy and broken. Your legs clamped around his head when you came with one more wave of slick coating his tongue. He lapped at your center like an animal, groaning and licking and sucking until you couldn't handle it any more. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, pulled him off you with a gasp, too sensitive to allow him to continue.

"You got a dirty mouth, baby," he teased with a wet, crooked grin. You laughed, face and neck covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"That's rich, considering what you just did with your mouth."

Joel chuckled as he finished undoing his jeans. He let them rest on the floor next to yours, no longer caring how dirty his clothes were, but he found himself hesitating for just a moment when his fingers found the hem of his shirt. You might have noticed, he couldn't be sure, because you sat up on your knees, inching forward til you were at the edge of the bed. Your hands replaced his and you slowly raised his shirt over his head, eyes instantly falling to take him in.

Running and eating better had made his middle a little less soft, but he still had twenty years on you and his body simply wasn't what it used to be. He worried for weeks what you would think of him but as it turned out, you didn't even give him a chance to wonder when you finally laid eyes on him.

"So handsome," you murmured, running your palms over his broad shoulders and down his pecs. That insecure part of himself normally wouldn't have believed you, but when he saw the heady look in your eye, all doubt was erased from his mind.

"Your turn," he said, fingers plucking at your tshirt. He wanted to get the attention off him but he also desperately wanted to see the rest of you.

You lifted your arms above your head so he could peel your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He might have been rusty, but he certainly remembered how to remove a bra, doing it with lightning fast speed that had you giggling until his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, melting your laugh into a moan.

Joel flattened his tongue over the hardening bud, his mouth warm against the soft skin of your breast. Your breath stuttered and your fingers flew up to grab onto his shoulders when the tip of his tongue flicked against your nipple before biting and sucking at your soft flesh.

"Perfect," he groaned before releasing your breast just to give the same attention to the other. Your head tipped back, a wrecked moan shuddering through you under his attentive care. "You're so perfect, baby," he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss between your breasts, right over your heart.

Your cheeks flared with heat at his compliment but you took it in stride. Swallowing tightly, you leaned back out of his hold, crawling backwards up the bed and grinning when Joel followed like a moth to a flame.

Hovering over you, his eyes danced over your now bare body with a look of awe. His obvious appreciation and adoration made you feel like a goddess, which was fitting considering he had just been on his knees for you.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world, y'know that?" he whispered while one rough hand brushed lovingly over your stomach and down your hip. You ignored his question, instead focusing on pushing down the band of his boxers, the final barrier between you both. When he kicked them off, his gaze still pinned to your body, your jaw dropped in surprise.

You had never been one to really care much about size when it came to men, your only concern was that they knew how to use it. But when you saw Joel's thick, heavy cock bobbing between you as he shifted his weight, all you could think about was how delicious that stretch would feel when he first entered you.

"Looks like I'm the lucky one," you joked. His eyes found yours again and you saw his cheeks flush with a bashful shake of his head. "It's true," you insisted when he settled onto his elbows. You tried to ignore his cock prodding at your stomach so you could tell him sincerely, "I think we're both lucky."

He smiled wide at that, his eyes squinting and causing the creases next to them to deepen. You smiled back, tracing one of the wrinkles with your fingertip before pushing his hair back behind his ear. Then you curled your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down the rest of the way so you could press your mouth against his.

His tongue dipped slowly into your mouth, giving you the faint taste of yourself while he lifted his hips ever so slightly to blindly line himself up with your entrance. With the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, he mumbled are you ready? into your lips, and you nodded.

Joel tried to kiss you again at the same time he pushed inside you, but your head immediately tipped back with a sharp gasp, so instead he placed sweet kisses against your throat while slowly feeding you his cock, inch by inch, until finally bottoming out with a rough groan.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped, hot breath fanning across your even hotter skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to move. "Y'feel so good. Shit - so fuckin'..."

He couldn't even finish his thought. The way you fit around him so perfectly had him spiraling. You were so tight, so velvety soft and warm that he was fearful if he moved, he would come embarrassingly fast. Fortunately, it seemed you needed some time to adjust, as well. Your breath was shallow and fast, fingers digging harshly into his skin as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

"God, Joel..." you finally moaned, the sound causing goosebumps to flash across his arms. "You're so... fucking big," you added breathlessly. Joel felt his cock twitch and you gasped.

"Can't talk like that, baby."

"I can't help it," you whined, wiggling underneath him as your body slowly became used to his girth. "You feel so good, I feel so full-"

Joel cut you off, crashing his mouth hungrily against yours. You made a little surprised noise in the back of your throat then moaned into his mouth when his hips drew back slowly. You almost complained, almost begged him for more but then he sunk back inside you, stretching your walls and bringing tears to your eyes. He made it a few minutes, slowly rolling his hips, cock splitting you open while searching for that spot he knew would make you scream, but another sign of his age cropped up at the worst time, making him wince and stall mid thrust.

"What's wrong?" you panted, immediately sensing his discomfort.

Joel grunted and let his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "My goddamn back-"

"Lay down," you commanded, pushing him by the shoulders. He frowned and leaned up to look at you.

"I'll do all the work," you told him sweetly, pecking at his lips before giving him another push, but he didn't budge.

"Sweetheart-"

"I said I was going to take care of you, didn't I?" you challenged with a quirked eyebrow. "And so far, you're the one taking care of me."

He smirked and rolled his eyes but did as you asked, pulling out of you and earning a huff from you both.

Joel didn't love the idea of not being able to give you what you needed. He didn't want you to work for anything. He wanted to take care of you as much as you wanted to take care of him. But when you straddled his lap and positioned yourself to sink down on his cock, the sight alone made him forget all about the somewhat humiliating disturbance because you looked so goddamn gorgeous fucking yourself on top of him.

"Oh, shit, honey, look at you," he sighed. You whimpered, fingers digging into his chest for leverage as you bounced up and down on his lap. His hands found your waist, helping you move and steady yourself as you chased your high. "Yeah, that's it. Take what you want. Take it," he said through clenched teeth. Your breasts bounced and swayed, taunting him just out reach, but the visual made him pulse inside you, already dangerously close to his climax.

"Fuck, you're so deep," you moaned. Joel's eyes slid shut, trying his best to stave off his orgasm. He racked his brain to remember what made you fall apart for him before, but he could hardly think straight. The tension was pulling tight in his stomach each time to dropped yourself down on his cock. His skin tingled hearing every breathy moan tumble from your lips, all because of him.

And it was all too much.

"Touch yourself," he grunted, fingers digging harder into your waist. "C'mon, baby, touch yourself f'me. Can't -" He groaned when you started to roll your hips, your soaked cunt gripping him beautifully. "Can't last much longer," he finally was able to say.

You did as you were told, two fingers pressing desperately against your clit as you continued to ride him. Your face was slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head once you found a rhythm you liked. You looked absolutely breathtaking like that, spread out and full of him with your face contorted in pleasure. He had never seen you like that before. It was filthy and raw and desperate.

"Goddamnit," Joel growled, lifting his hips to match your pace. Each time he buried himself deep inside you, he let out a harsh grunt. The intensity and desperation was sending you both quickly over the edge. "I'm gonna come, darlin', 'm sorry," he murmured.

"Please," you begged, fingers working fast over your clit. You inhaled sharply and your movements stuttered. "Please come for me, Joel," you whispered with your eyes closed.

When he felt that familiar heat licking its way up his spine, he went to pull you off his lap, but your thighs clenched around him, keeping you in place.

"It- it's o-okay," you stammered. He had no time to ask you to elaborate. With a loud groan he finally let go, pumping you full of his spend. His orgasm was so intense, he swore his vision blacked out for a second. He blinked rapidly until you appeared before him again, just in time to watch you come on his cock with a strangled moan.

"That's it," he cooed, fighting for air like he had just run a fucking marathon. Your eyebrows pinched together and your mouth hung open as you ground down on his lap, riding out your high. When your cunt clenched around him, he felt one last burst of release paint your walls, the sheer force from the last several minutes making him lightheaded.

Your arms began to shake and a moment later, you collapsed onto his chest, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh. He could feel your heart racing with his while you held each other, gasping for air until you each calmed down and your breathing returned to normal.

"I got a, uh," you began, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice. You pointed weakly towards your stomach. "A- a thing. An implant."

"Oh," he whispered, "good. Okay."

His arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you against his sweaty chest. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing in deep while you planted lazy kisses against his collarbone. He was still inside you but he could feel himself beginning to finally soften, so he gently rolled you onto your side while simultaneously slipping out of your clutch with a hiss.

He couldn't help himself. He glanced down and spotted the pearly trail of his seed leaking from between your legs and it sparked something inside of him.

"I made a mess of you, sweetheart," he murmured, voice gravelly with desire as he continued to stare. You followed his gaze down and grinned.

"Guess we're both dirty now," you teased. He chuckled and rolled on top of you, lips latching onto your throat. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this needy. High school? Maybe in his very early twenties? All he knew was he wanted you in every way imaginable. He felt like a man on the verge of death in the middle of the desert who stumbled across an oasis.

"Joel," you moaned when his hand dropped to cup your breast and his cock, by some goddamn miracle, began to slowly stiffen once again.

"Hmm?"

"I - I need a break," you admitted sheepishly, fingers combing gently through his hair. "And maybe a shower."

He grinned and stopped running the pad of his thumb over your nipple so he could lean up on his elbows to look at you.

"Want some company with that shower?"

You giggled and nodded. "But nothing funny! This is a business shower, okay?"

"Business shower?" he repeated with his dark eyes sparkling. He was so happy he could burst.

"Yes. A business shower. Nothing ... sexy," you said with a wave of your hand. You gave his shoulder a shove and he rolled off you long enough for you to wiggle out from underneath him, heading in the direction of your bathroom. His eyes immediately locked on your naked body and he flung himself out of bed, back pain long forgotten.

"Ain't possible to not have a sexy shower if you're in there," he joked as he followed you. You glanced at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

"Smooth."

You only made it ten minutes into your business shower before you caved. But with your front pressed against the cool tile wall and Joel's cock sliding effortlessly back inside you, you were having trouble remembering why you ever cared in the first place.

"You look a lot happier than the last time I saw you," Ryan said when you sat down on the soft leather couch across from him. You smiled and placed your purse next to you.

"A lot's changed since then."

"Yeah? Let's hear it," he urged, clicking his pen and scribbling something at the top of his legal pad.

"Well, for starters I'm not moving."

He grinned. "That's fantastic news. What's changed?"

You felt your cheeks warm up when you said, "I worked things out with that guy I was seeing."

"Wonderful! And you mentioned his... daughter, I believe? Had an issue with her father dating?" Ryan questioned while writing some notes on the paper.

"She surprised me and stopped by my house. She apologized for what happened and insisted she wants her dad to be happy," you explained, still finding it difficult to believe just two weeks later. "But I am going to sell my house. I need to move somewhere new. Some place that's all mine. I keep seeing Daniel everywhere I turn and I think it's been making it difficult to move on."

Ryan raised his eyebrows and set down his pen. "Good for you. That shows incredible growth and promise to be able to recognize when something is holding you back. That decision couldn't have been easy, either. You should be proud of yourself," he said warmly, making you smile.

"It wasn't easy, you're right. But it's for the best. My... boyfriend, I guess?" you said, the word sounding strange on your tongue. "Sorry. I'm not used to that. He's in construction and knows some people. It's an old house. Daniel and I put a lot of work into it and it would break my heart if it fell into the wrong hands. Joel - sorry, Joel's my boyfriend," you said, shifting your weight on the couch. "He's going to ask around and see if anyone he trusts can find a buyer for the house."

"It sounds like Joel is a great guy."

You smiled and nodded excitedly. "We met at group, actually."

Ryan's face broke out into a huge grin and he clapped his hands together. "What a beautiful coincidence. Two people with the same wound meeting and working to heal one another. That's so powerful," he said before picking his pen back up.

"It's still early but... it feels right. It's a lot easier than I thought it would be," you admitted.

"Easy in what way?"

You pursed your lips and began to fiddle with your bracelet.

"Easy in that I didn't feel... guilty when we, you know..." you trailed off, praying Ryan didn't make you finish your sentence.

"When you were intimate together?" he offered, putting a pretty little bow on the filthy things you and Joel had been doing for the past couple weeks.

"Yes."

You paused and cleared your throat before forcing yourself to meet Ryan's eye.

"I thought I would compare them, or, like, I don't know," you rambled nervously, "maybe I wouldn't like it because it wasn't what I was used to or something."

"And you didn't?"

You shook your head, feeling the tip of your nose sting when tears began to crop up in your eyes.

"And I thought... I always thought it would feel like a betrayal. Like I was cheating on Daniel. But it didn't," you said, blinking away your tears.

"And it shouldn't," Ryan said gently, setting his pen back down to give you his full attention. "I didn't know Daniel but I'm sure he wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life alone and unhappy."

"No, he wouldn't," you agreed, then smiled to yourself when you added, "I think he would have really liked Joel."

"I'll bet he would, too," Ryan said. He flipped open another page on his legal pad and read something before asking, "And how are the legal issues going?"

Your face fell a little bit and you shrugged.

"My lawyer thinks he'll have things wrapped up soon but it just breaks my heart that it came to this. They were always so kind to me when Daniel was alive, I never expected them to be so... selfish and cruel."

"Not to make excuses for them, but people process trauma and grief in very different ways. Unfortunately, it can bring out the worst in people, but perhaps with time, you'll be able to mend that relationship if that was something you wished to do," Ryan said with a sympathetic smile.

You nodded silently and fiddled with the zipper on your purse. Ryan had gotten used to the way you processed information after only two sessions and knew you were ruminating, so he patiently gave you the time you needed to collect your thoughts.

"My parents were upset when I told them I wasn't moving back to Portland."

Ryan remained quiet, giving you the space you needed to speak.

"They think I'm crazy for 'shacking up' with a guy who is old enough to have gone to school with my dad," you explained. "Said I'm making a big mistake and I'm emotionally distraught."

Ryan's eyebrows pinched together. "Do you think you're emotionally distraught?"

"No," you replied. "I'm the best I've felt since Daniel passed away."

"And Joel? Is he in a good place for a relationship?"

"I think so," you sighed. "He lost his wife ten years ago. He's had more time to process his grief but this is the first relationship he's had since she passed, same as me."

"Well then, sounds to me like you are both doing just fine," he said warmly. "Parents always tend to think they know what's best for their children, no matter how old they are. And I'm sure their hearts are in the right place. But they don't see you every day, do they? They don't witness the progress and growth you've made. They certainly don't see how happy you are together. Perhaps with time, they will accept your decisions, but for now I think it's best to reinforce your boundaries and remind them of how well you are doing if the topic gets brought up again."

"Thanks. It's just tough to hear sometimes," you said solemnly. You pursed your lips together and tried not to dwell too much on your mother's negative reaction to your news, the wound still too fresh, but it ultimately only made you happier that you found Joel. He was such a strong and supportive presence in your life, despite the chaos, and you were always so grateful for him.

"Alright, let's switch gears," Ryan suggested when he sensed your sullen mood. "Where are you looking to move? Is the plan to move in with Joel?"

You laughed and shook your head. "That's a little too soon, I think," you said. "I'm looking to rent a small house. I found a few not too far from his neighborhood, though. We're going to check them out together this weekend."

"That's great," Ryan said as he scribbled down a few more notes. "And the job hunt? Last we spoke, you mentioned you had been looking for work but weren't getting much traction."

"Yeah, that hasn't been going great. But I've been toying with this idea, and I know it sounds crazy-"

Ryan laughed. "I'm sure it's not."

"Well... Joel and I were talking. He asked me what I really liked to do and what my dream job would be, and the first thing I thought of was cooking. I absolutely love cooking and baking."

"So you want to open a restaurant?" he guessed.

"No, not quite. Actually, I was thinking of a food truck."

You braced yourself for Ryan's strong opinion, expecting him to tell you it was a terrible idea and that the profits would be minimal, but instead he just smiled wide and sat back in his chair.

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Really?" you asked, eyes sparkling. He nodded.

"I think it suits you very well. And it sounds like fun. I say if you have the means and motivation, do it. Hell, I'll be your first customer."

You laughed, feeling your chest lighten a bit when you received his approval. You had been so used to your family or Daniel's judging every little decision you made that it came as a great relief to hear someone besides Joel be so supportive.

"Well, it's just a baby of an idea. Maybe once the legal stuff is settled and don't have to worry about that anymore, I'll look into it more seriously."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Ryan said before standing up. You glanced at the clock, surprised your hour was already up, and began to collect your things. Admittedly when you started therapy, you weren't sure how much you would get out of it. But in the two short sessions you had with Ryan, you realized how nice it was to have a neutral third party shed some light on your problems without feeling judged.

"Same time next week?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hoping you'll come back with some good news about a house."

"Me, too," you said with a smile. Ryan walked you back out to the lobby and wished you a good rest of the day. You gave him a quick wave before stepping back outside and took a deep, calming breath.

The seasons were beginning to change, you could smell it. The air wasn't as humid and the breeze was just a little sharper.

You welcomed it, hopeful that the shift into autumn would usher in a new and exciting chapter of your life.

A/N: apologies if I've used the term 'business shower' before. I feel like I have in other fics but I can't be sure.

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[rationaliity]

new lesson | aeon! dr. ratio x f. reader ( 18+ )

not a continuation post but more like a horny extra sideplot you're welcome you freaks /j in which our aeon ratio has come to learn that he, too, has human desires. he's perhaps a little too fond of his emanator, and perhaps his emanator is a little too pretty for him to be able to control himself. my aeon ratio plot here tags : face fucking, mind break, power play, mind control, consensual nonconsent that turns into to consent, painful sex, womb penetration, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, begging / whining / crying, use of the term 'girl', religious imagery sorta, ratio has a huge dick and it hurts, he also doesn't know the limits of the human body and pushes you way past yours, coercion almost, obsession, mention of stalking, yandere ratio, reader almost loses consciousness twice, struggling, afab anatomy, finger fucking, possessiveness, mean ratio calls you a failure once god x disciple word count : roughly 4000

the aeon of dissemination has taught you plenty while you were underneath his tutelage. so many whispers of the cosmos that others would fail to hear, so many secrets untold, shared only by those in the know. an all-powerful being with much more power than you could ever hope to know, yes, and yet.. during your private lessons together, you found yourself bearing witness to his more human side more often than not. your time together was much less a deity whispering incomprehensible knowledge to his devout pupil, and much more a civil conversation between humans. almost.

you were his emanator, which meant that you derived your power directly from him. this caused you to be able to reach heights previously unknown to you, but it also became your shackles. you were bound to his word, for his word was law. if he told you to bark, you would bark. you had no choice in the matter. if he told you to, by any chance, strip down and worship naked at his feet, well, you couldn't deny him that, either.

ratio had grown to enjoy his time with you. no, rather, he had grown fond of you. you learned quickly, you asked the right questions, you were beautiful, and kind. you were everything he wished for in a companion. even aeons get lonely too, surely you understood that. he found himself curious about you while you were away from him, often opting to lose his corporeal form and watch you from the shadows. he had always preferred doing things from the shadows, anyways, so this was nothing new.

you were beautiful. not just in your mind, but your body, too, something that ratio hated to admit. he had assumed, wrongly, that he had no attraction to human bodies, only human minds. but yours.. it stirred something in him, made him question himself. his motives, his.. desires.

and he desired you. he wanted that to be clear, and yet he bided his time, waiting patiently in the shadows of your home for the next time he would summon you before him, something coming up rather soon.

as you arrived within his domain - a huge, expansive, never ending library filled from top to bottom of books on everything in the universe. no matter how obscure, you could find the information you were seeking in front of you, from the tiniest of details of the most unknown planets to the biggest complexities of the cosmos.

" dr. ratio, it's good to see you again, " you called out, approaching his throne, sat in the center, surrounded by bookshelves covering every side by the front. there, ratio was sat, his legs crossed with an old book in his hand. " i pray you're doing well ? "

" i am, " he nodded, his demanding gaze flickering from the book to you, taking in your every single move. ratio snapped his book closed, his eyes never leaving yours, leaning forward in his throne. " i have been reading about human pleasure. it has been a subject previously untouched by me, but as you know, one must encapsulate all things to be able to full grasp the complexities of life. "

you stopped in your tracks, stunned. he had been reading about.. human pleasure ? you swallowed thickly, allowing yourself an awkward, small laugh, your hand coming up to the back of your head as you tried to figure out what to do with yourself under his gaze. " oh ! i.. see. it's surprising that you've just uncovered this now, considering your knowledge in human psychology. "

" would you say that those two things overlap ? " he asked, the book resting on his lap now, completely forgotten about now that he was in your presence, the human that had made the aeon of dissemination question himself.

" well.. they're definitely related, " you started, thinking about how to properly explain yourself before you said anything further, a quality that he admired. " human desires are just the culmination of inherently desirable qualities in a partner, right ? those who take a more submissive role often desire dominant partners in all aspects of their life, not just in the bedroom. of course, there are exceptions, but it could be used as a rule of thumb for understanding how humans interact with one another in a romantic and sexual sense. "

your explanation earned you the briefest of nods. " would you say that you yourself are in this broad generalization ? or are you an exception ? " he asked, his words low and gruff, like he was waiting on your answer to his question. " you, who dominates so much of your life. you teach the willing, guide them towards knowledge. not many would be above you in status, i presume. would you consider yourself in need of a partner who you can take control of, too, or would you rather.. be controlled ? "

you hesitated, something that he noticed. were you not willing to share such details with him ? was it because of his status, or simply because of your nature ? you were rather introverted, although not necessarily completely since you could command a room with just the tone of your voice. well, almost every room. this was one room that you had no control over.

you were confused, but mostly, you were curious. why did he want to know ? what was he gaining from learning such private and intimate details about yourself ? this was the first time that he had asked such revealing questions to you, although you weren't unaware of his recent curiosity with your life outside of the walls of this library. this was the first time he had actually shown any type of interest in you, and to be quite frank, it unnerved you a little bit. but if ratio asks a question, it gets answered. that much, you knew. " i.. find myself leaning towards the submissive role in bed. i prefer if my partner could.. command me, sometimes, and take control whenever possible. "

dr. ratio didn't say anything for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly, his legs uncrossing as he examined you from top to bottom, taking in your attire, and taking it off in his mind. he needed to know why he felt these desires towards you. he needed to know why you, specifically, out of everyone that he had interacted with within the cosmos, earned his gaze in a way that no others did. he didn't even know that he had these baser, more carnal instincts.

" now, who would be able to control you ? you, an emanator of the dissemination, a being with knowledge vast beyond most mortal comprehension, " his eyes sparkled with something as he beckoned you forward, signaling for you to get on your knees in front of him, something that he very rarely did. and yet you complied, and his interest in this situation only grew. " who could control you.. other than myself ? "

kneeling down in front of him, and looking up at his eyes, you sucked in a breath, your heart beginning to race in your chest as you thought about the implications of his words. were you truly interpreting his words correctly, or was this another one of his many wise warnings that he often bestowed upon you when you have strayed too far away from your chosen path ? and yet, you could see the smirk on his otherwise stoic face, and you knew that you weren't misunderstanding his words.

" strip for me, girl. " you felt that throbbing pain in your head that momentarily disorientated you, your hand rushing up to grab your forehead as you swayed slightly. you swore you could feel every single nerve in your body standing on end, a warning for what was to come. yet, this was not the feeling inside of you that you got when he was commanding you to do something that you had no choice in the matter of, you knew this for a fact because he had done that to you a few times while trying to guide you towards the correct path. you had no idea what this was, other than to perhaps remind you of his power over you.

nevertheless, even while bursting with embarrassment, you obliged, first taking off your purple blazer, undoing the buttons of your white dress shirt and slipping it off of your shoulders, before finally your skirt, something that made you more nervous than revealing your chest in front of him. you stood up onto your knees, bringing yourself in between his legs as you pulled your skirt and underwear down at the same time, letting the fabric pool beneath you at your knees.

" good girl, you're such a good girl, " he whispered, his hand reaching out, gently petting your head before combing through your hair, his gaze revealing nothing about his intentions, only the hunger inside of him. you'd only ever seen this look in his eyes whenever he was learning, and perhaps, in a way, he was learning something. " come closer. i trust you're experienced in this area, or should i teach you the basics ? "

you shuffled closer, your hands on your thighs as you didn't dare touch him. " i.. have a little experience, but not a lot. my apologies, i.. my lifestyle doesn't exactly allow me to often indulge in these kinds of.. activities with others. " you were just inches away from him, your face so close to his body, his crotch. you had so many questions. was this all just an elaborate test of sorts ? did he truly intend to teach you how to pleasure him ?

did he even have the anatomy for such a lewd idea ?

" it's okay, " he answered, as if hearing your thoughts, which he likely did. he was a being of immeasurable power, after all. and yet here he was, exerting his control over you and yet at the same time, losing his cool like a lovesick fool unable to keep himself together in the face of a beautiful person. " i'm rather fond of willing students, so don't worry. you'll learn, i am sure of that. you're a very capable being, after all. "

" this body is human in all capacities, " he continued, his hand still on the back of your head, subtly pulling you closer. " i originally believed it to be human in all ways except for the brain, but i believe i have been incorrect. it seems this form, no, i retain many of humanities baser, more carnal instincts. i would like you to service me. you may begin with removing this trousers from me. i will guide you, but i'll warn you, i won't be gentle. "

all you could muster was a small nod, your hands finding their way to his pants, shaking with nervousness, and also maybe just a twinge of excitement. here, you would have an aeon underneath your touch, begging for you. surely this was a pleasure that not many got to partake in. you could see it straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released, and you couldn't help but purse your lips together nervously, taken aback by its size.

finally working up the courage, you unzipped his trousers, pulling them from his hips down to his legs, letting the fabric fall beneath him onto your lap, leaving him in just his underwear, his cock pressed up against his leg, the bulge in his underwear now impossible to ignore. you looked up again at him for confirmation, to which he just nodded. " proceed. show me your worthiness to be at my side. take me into your mouth. if you don't think you can do it, i will guide you. "

you bit your bottom lip, your nervousness slowly turning into palpable excitement as you finally pulled his underwear off of him, freeing his cock from its confines once and for all. he was bigger than you'd expected, with precum messily coating his bulbous tip. he was huge, so much bigger than anything you've ever seen before, making all other sexual situation you'd been in before this one become meaningless in comparison. ratio's grip on the back of your head tightened, almost painful as he leaned you forward, giving you virtually no choice but to comply with his demands.

nervously, you kitten licked the head of his cock, one of your hands holding the base of it so you could bring it to your mouth. determination to prove yourself filled you, along with undeniable arousal, but you knew that there was simply no way to take all of him in your mouth without pitifully choking, and he must've been aware, too. you began to bob your head up and down his length, feeling an unfamiliar sting in the back of your throat every time the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

you continued this for a moment, earning contented groans from his lips, until you found your throat constricting involuntarily at the intrusion. you gagged, pulling away from him completely as you coughed, feeling your stomach do backflips.

if you couldn't take it properly without struggling, he decided, then ratio would just have to force you to take his cock to show you how it's done, even if you gag around him. his expression darkened as he pulled your head towards him, forcing himself deep into your mouth. you gagged almost immediately, your hands grabbing at his thighs as he controlled your head, forcing you to take more of his cock.

" you can't handle my size ? you're pathetic. a failure, " his voice was filled with disappointment and anger, and you could do nothing but look up at him, tears forming in your eyes from his bruising pace as he fucked your face without mercy. you couldn't breathe properly, struggling against him weakly, your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs, not out of disobedience for him, but because when humans feel as though they're dying or they can't breathe, they often try to fight to get their airway back, struggling uselessly.

" i'll show you how to please me properly, " ratio's hand pulled and pushed your head with your hair, his hips thrusting his cock deeper into your throat. your gagging is ignored as you choke around him. " fuck. yes, that's it. take it. learn to swallow my cock. learn to love it, " he threw his head back, groaning underneath his breath. " you can be so good at this, i know you can. "

he wasn't stopping, especially not when he was finally starting to feel good because of you, the pleasure building up inside of him. tears began to streak down your reddening face, your eyebrows creased together as you struggled. ratio fucked your face relentlessly, thrusting inside of your mouth and using you like his own personal fucktoy. finally, the resistance in your throat gave way after a particularly harsh thrust, and he penetrated your throat, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn't breathe at all anymore. your eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest, the painful lesson beginning to take root.

despite the treatment, your slick was pooling between your thighs, creating a puddle of it beneath you. his rough treatment turned you on more than you'd ever thought possible.

ratio seemed to notice this, his tone holding a hint of amusement as he used your face, your nose pressed up against his pubic bone, his balls resting on your chin. " can't breathe ? perhaps you prefer i choke you completely like this ? you're enjoying it, craving it like a drug now. i must say, i find myself captivated by your abilities, too. "

you could feel your own helplessness, the power that he held over you surpassing even what you thought possible. you understood this lesson, although you could feel your head starting to fog up with the lack of air. you were trying desperately to find a way to breathe around his cock, but he was too deep in your throat, clogging up your airway. his guide on your head became painful as ratio invaded your body.

your eyes rolled back, your hands falling down to your side as you almost lost consciousness. finally, before you could truly lose yourself to the black abyss, he pulled your head up off of him, letting you gasp and choke, all of the spit that he was keeping in your mouth slipping down your lips, covering your chest and lap as you coughed up the air, blinking rapidly to familiarize yourself with being able to breathe again. your stomach was churning, and you damn near threw up everything that you had eaten for breakfast that morning. you felt weightless and incredibly heavy at the same time.

" you're a good girl. you learn quickly, " he smirked, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watched you catch your breath. finally, he stood up, his cock still throbbing painfully, ready to finally take what he'd wanted. " turn around, girl. "

that painful feeling in your head came back, causing you to wince in pain as he commanded you to turn around. finally agreeing, you turned around on your knees, looking away from him. his large hand pushed at your back, knocking you onto your hands, your ass up in the air for him to see. ratio had made himself comfortable with being in between your legs, his eyes admiring your naked form, seeing your pretty folds glistening with so much slick it was dripping down your thighs.

" such a pretty little thing. human bodies are beautiful beyond compare, even in the eyes to an aeon, but yours ? oh, yours is magnificent. truly, you are worthy of being by my side, " his voice was low as two of his fingers penetrated your wetness, testing your readiness for what was to come. he savored the feeling of your tightness around him, the way your muscles gripped his digits.

you gasped, letting out a whiny, pathetic little noise as you moaned, your back arching as his fingers hit that special spot inside of you, caressing it in such a way that had you drooling like a dumb mutt on your knees in seconds. his fingers moved rhythmically, his gaze on where they disappeared and reappeared from your body. the anticipation was building within him, and he found himself fucking you faster with his fingers, enjoying every tiny little mewl and whine of pleasure as it came from your bruised throat.

your cries of pleasure fueled him, the sight of you writhing, begging, and ultimately submitting to him was almost as satisfying as the power he held over you. " that's it. you're such a good girl. " without warning you, he pulled his fingers out from you, your body clenching around nothing as your moans quickly turned into gasps. " you're going to take me now, yeah ? submit to me, and i promise you a lesson that you'll never forget. "

your eyes widened, even though you knew ratio couldn't see it, and you felt your anxiety spike. " y-you can't..! i-it's too big, it'll break me, please ! " you begged, but your voice was falling on deaf ears as one of his hands gripped your hips, guiding his shaft to your entrance.

" your body is resilient, and i'm confident it'll accommodate me, " with a swift motion, he pushed into you, his cock stretching her wide. you cried out, your body tensing as he slowly withdrew and thrust again, just testing the waters of what you could and couldn't take. as his entire length disappeared inside of you, he couldn't stop his hips from snapping up, pounding his cock into you.

your scream of pleasure filled this vast library, a symphony of pain and pleasure. " a-ah, fuck..! your cock, i-its- it hu-hurts, 's too big.. " you sobbed, babbling on like an idiot, your words incomprehensible, your voice hiccupping in your throat. you were feeling like you were being split in half from him, like your body wasn't yours anymore. just like you suspected earlier, no other human man you'd had sex with previously compared to him, and you'd never quite be able to get fucked like this again if it weren't ratio.

ratio leaned down, his body pressed against yours, whispering in your ear, " you love this, yeah ? its painful, but it feels amazing. " his hips pumped faster, your cries echoing through the library with each thrust. your protests turned into pleas, your words lost in your ecstasy. " i want you to come for me. you'll cum again, and again, and again, until you belong to me entirely. you'll cum for me, and say my fucking name, " he promised.

you cried out, your sobs and moans mingling together as you struggled to figure out what you wanted to do, whether or not you wanted to pull him closer or force him away all at once. you were going to cum, and there was nothing you could do about it other than let him fuck you like he wanted to. pain and pleasure mingled together, but not so much as when he slammed into you with all of his body weight, the tightness of your body giving way as the head of his cock breached your womb. " v-veritas..! " you moaned out, and it all exploded within you, your pussy clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pain of him breaching your womb and the pleasure of his fucking being far, far too much for you to take.

ratio grunted, feeling your walls squeeze around his cock as she came, milking him, too. the sensation was exquisite, his thrusts becoming frantic as he fucked himself into you as your arms gave out from underneath your, your face planting into the cold tile below. at this point, he was focused solely on his own gratification, pumping into you as your hips met his, your moans like a beautiful lullaby to his ears. " g-goddammit, " he swore, his balls drawing tight, his orgasm imminent at this point. he pulled your hips into his, his cock pulsing deep within you as his orgasm washed over him in waves, filling you completely with his seed, causing you to mewl out pitifully in response.

finally, he pulled out, his cum spilling out from your pretty pussy, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you. he helped pick you up, cradling your body in his arms as the two of you rest at the foot of his throne together. you were nestled against his chest, your breathing coming out raggedly as you looked up at him, your eyes half closed and your body weak. ratio had breached you completely, filled you up in ways that you didn't even know possible. such was the ways of an aeon, you thought, unable to fight back against him even if you wanted to.

" you've taught me a lot about the human body, " ratio whispered, content just to hold you there, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. " no, the human body, and perhaps the human mind, too. my own mind. thank you for this lesson, dear emanator. "

perhaps being an emanator didn't always mean that you held all of the power. after all, there will always be a being with more power than you.

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

[seresinhangmanjake]

I love all your Feyd works! Thank you.

My request is regrding a sensitive topic. So if it makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free not to write it.

Reader has arranged marriage with Feyd. After a few years they all discover (including her) that she has fertility issues and has trouble getting pregnant so the Baron wants them to divorce. Wife is becoming hopeless. But Feyd who’s utterly in love and devoted to his wife will not have it and pledges loyalty to her.

Worth To Him

Notes/Warnings: obviously this is about fertility problems. It is a sensitive topic. If this bothers you, please do not read. Mention of period sex.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Sobs wrack your body. One after another after another that keeps your breaths shallow and ragged. Tears coat your lashes, weighing them down. You gave up trying to see clearly through them an hour ago and let yourself get lost in the haze of blindness.

You can’t stop it. You haven’t been able to stop for days. You clutched your pillow like a lifeline, crying into the plush material in a way you haven’t since you were a child. You’ve really proven yourself useless now. You officially have nothing to offer this planet, and the Baron has made that well-known. But what else can you expect when you are incapable of doing the things that are expected of you? How can you expect not to lose the one thing you care about if you cannot give him what he needs?

“If you cannot provide him an heir, you are worth nothing” is what the Baron declared in front of all that exists of his court.

Nothing—the word bounced around the walls of your skull before it finally sank in. You’ve never been nothing until now. You’ve always held some sort of value in some manner or other, even if that manner is in being a political pawn. But no. Here, now, you’re nothing to these people.

At first, you pleaded with him, nearly fell to your hands and knees and told him you’d only been trying for a few months. A few months barely qualifies as adequate time. On your home planet, medical intervention is not discussed until the couple has gone a year with no success. But you’re not on your home planet; there is no medical intervention, and all the Baron said in response was: A few months is too long. You will divorce in a week's time.

Feyd doesn’t know. For the last five days, he’s been on Arrakis, and it was on the third day of his absence that you once again woke to stained sheets. He’ll be disappointed in you, just like the Baron, just like the people of Giedi Prime, just like your parents who agreed to marry you to Feyd for the sake of an alliance that will soon be broken. 

When he returns, they’ll tell him, and he’ll nod with acceptance because that is what he does under order, and you’ll be shipped off. You’ll never see him again. He’ll remarry. He’ll become a father to a child by a woman who is not you. He’ll raise what the people want. He’ll do them proud.

You wonder if he’ll miss you as you will miss him. Will he ever think of you and wish you were in her place? Will he look at the children she’s borne him and wonder what your children would have looked like had you the chance to have them? Will he see their hair and imagine your locks flowing down to their little shoulders? If he peers into their eyes, will he prefer them a shade to match yours instead of hers? You wonder if he’ll be filled with sorrow at what could have been. 

Selfish to think it. There’s no reason to assume he will not enjoy the pleasure his new wife will offer. Neither are you fair in hoping that when he’s inside of her, making the children the Baron demands, he will be thinking of you. 

You cry harder. Your pillow will take ages to dry. Perhaps you’ll move on to his. Soak in the scent of him before you’re ripped away from him and returned to what will be considered by many the end of your life. No other Lord, or future Lord, will take you, not after being owned by a Harkonnen—tainted meat, as they say. You’ll be a burden on your family, an embarrassment to your House’s people, a waste of valuable blood. 

—

Touch stirs you: a soft brush of fingertips over your tear-stained cheek, a thumb grazing over your parted mouth. 

Then a voice. “Wake up.” Your groan of resistance is cut short by a press of lips against yours. A quick peck and then another. “Wake up,” it says, and then one more kiss, much longer this time, that you return before bothering to open your eyes. Your arms wrap around a familiar neck. A tongue gently glides along yours. And then it’s gone. Stolen from you. You want it back. 

Your eyes snap open. At the sight of him sitting beside you, you gasp, quickly scrambling onto his lap. He holds you without question or word. He holds you close to him. You hold him like you never will again. 

Leaning into his body, you push him down onto the mattress and he lands on his back with a chuckle. Your legs straddle his hips, your weight resting comfortably on top of his, and with his hand in your hair, he pulls you back into a kiss. Gentle at first, a caress, then harder, needier, greedier. He could bruise you if he wanted, leave his mark, and you invite him to. Something to take back home with you—a bruising kiss. You hope it hurts. You hope you internally bleed and purple blooms around your mouth. You hope it never fades and you wear the reminder of him for the rest of your life.

His lips part. His tongue is back in your mouth, asking for yours. You savor the slick warmth, knowing you’ll never again be kissed like this. To be honest, you never thought you would be kissed like this at all. You didn’t know kisses like this existed. If someone had told you a year ago that this man would be kissing you this way, with a passion you wouldn’t have dreamed him capable of releasing, you’d have laughed them out of the room. 

He unlocks your mouths for a breath and gifts you a smile. Rare. Almost out of place on his face. The first one you received was five months into your marriage, and you’ve never gotten used to them. 

“I missed you,” he says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

You want to tell him how you’ve missed him, how painful it’s been without him by your side, but you don’t know that you can speak the words, not without every emotion you’ve felt over the last few days bubbling to the surface and overpowering your joy at seeing him—the last time you’ll greet him upon his return before you’re gone. 

He frowns. “You didn’t miss me?” he asks, and since you can’t deny him a damn thing, you gather the will to say: “Of course I did,” but your throat catches midway through. You can’t look at him. He allows it for a few seconds, giving you a chance to meet his stare on your own, but when you don’t, his fingers on your chin turn your face back to his so you can no longer avoid the prying blue shade of his irises. 

“What is it?” he says.

“I know he told you.” There’s a brief pause before your husband hums in acknowledgment. Fingertips trace up and down your spine over the thin material of your nightgown. “The doctor was ordered to examine me after I bled. He’s not sure I’m able to give you a baby. And the Baron–”

“My uncle does not make my decisions for me,” he declares, and you’re so stunned by the defiance that it takes you a moment to collect yourself. 

“Feyd, do you not understand? I don’t know if I can do it,” you tell him. “My body is–”

“Perfect,” he interrupts. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine. You will never belong to another man, nor will I belong to another woman.” 

“Neither of us has a choice.”

“You believe so?”

Your brow pinches, mouth setting in a line. If he’s playing a game, you’re not enjoying it. “As if you aren’t aware of who has the power here.”

“I am aware,” he says. “But Rabban is dead. I’m all that’s left of our line. If he wants his heir, then I’m keeping my wife.”

He speaks with such certainty that the charge of excitement you get whenever you watch him take command of his armies seeps into you, giddily wiggling all of your little nerve endings. But the feeling fades as fast as it came. It changes nothing. Whether or not he defies his uncle does not alter your circumstances. 

You sigh. “But what of your heir?”

“We’ll keep trying,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere. I'm too attached. He doesn’t get to marry me to a woman like you and then take you away.”

“A woman like me, who might not be able to give you what you need,” you say. “Why aren’t you bothered?”

“Having my heir is not where your worth lies to me. If we cannot have a baby, we will take someone else's,” he tells you without snicker or grin. His fingers fist into the material of your nightgown. “Now take this off. I want my wife.”

“I am still bleeding.”

He scoffs. “When have I ever cared?”

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: Your future spouse on your birthday

Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! In here I will give you a reading on what your future spouse will be like on your birthday. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful!

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

Your future spouse will give you tons of gifts and love to be the life of the party. They’ll give you a big surprise party with all your friends and family invited, although I also see things close to a frat-party for some of you, maybe college / university lovers. They’ll be very outgoing with their love for you, and want you to have the best, yet most busy day ever.

It might be a little overwhelming, although I do get the feeling your future partner will make sure that won’t happen, or at least prevent it the best they can. They are there for your enjoyment, not theirs, although they might find it difficult sometimes to not go a little overboard; something you’ll also maybe see in the prices of the things they’ll decide to gift you.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse will get you to have a small, fun birthday with not too many people, nor too many things all at ones. Just a cute gathering where your family members and friends can see each other again and talk about everything they’ve been up to since the last time they’ve seen one another. They love socialising themselves, and find friends and family important, which can be seen with how well they get along with your family and friends.

When it comes to gifts they tend to go down the creative route; things they’ve made themselves while keeping your interests and hobbies in mind, or baskets filled with a mix of different kinds of actual useful things, cute things, candy, cookies etc. They’ll be very loving with you physically as well, and make sure you get all kisses you need and want.

Pile 3:

Your future spouse will enjoy spending some time alone with you to celebrate your birthday. They might take you on a cute, little date, like a picnic, going to the beach, or eating lunch on a boat trip, either way, something romantic and calm. They’ll prefer to give you tiny gifts that actually mean something to you; things you enjoy watching, doing, etc. supplies for your hobbies, or little practical things you’ve spoken about needing every once in a while.

They won’t mind having a party at your house with your friends and family, but they find spending quality-time with you something important, something that is needed to gain / keep a strong connection, that way you truly see their love and nothing from the outside is able to distract you from that.