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azrielbrainrot · 26 days ago

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Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #acotar kinktober

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nanamiscocksleeve · 5 months ago

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Natural Breeding Clinic - Prologue

warnings: MDNI, breeding kinks, general sex, mention of infertility and insemination methods

a/n: It's here. Finally.

Teaser - Prologue - Patient 1

You take a deep breath and sit down in front of the laptop, waiting for the other person to join the call. Never in your life had you heard about such a unique reproductive center but lately, you’d been feeling the pull to start your own family. You’d discussed this with relevant people in your life. Everyone had said if you really wanted a child, then you should go with the options you thought were right for you.

You’d done the research, looking into different doctors and fertility clinics, but this one just stood out. There were testimonials from several happy families, saying their methods, though unconventional, were effective, and the doctors showcased on the website were all incredibly striking, each one handsome in their own way. But it was the success rate that caught your eye. A 98% guaranteed rate that you would be pregnant, and that pregnancy would be healthy. The site didn’t go into too much detail on their method, but the wording caught your eye.

“A natural breeding clinic” they’d called themselves. You’d finally bitten the bullet and called, requesting an information session. The screen suddenly lightens and you focus your attention as an attractive woman with shoulder-length brown hair comes into view. She smiles in a welcoming way before speaking.

“Hello. Am I speaking with Mrs. L/n?” You nod and smile back, trying not to look awkward or uncomfortable.

“Perfect! My name is Shoko Ieiri, I’m the main coordinating nurse here at Jujutsu Fertility. Thank you for scheduling an information session with us.”

“Yes, of course. I just needed more details before I booked an appointment.”

“Indeed.” Shoko claps her hands together before continuing. “Let me start by telling you a little bit about ourselves. We’ve been around for almost 6 years now. What sets us apart is that we focus more on women’s comfort than most other clinics. And we are sought out by people who are willing to use a sperm donor. We do not perform insemination services with sperm that are not from our own stock.”

“Your own stock? Are you associated with a sperm bank? And screen all the donors yourself?”

“Not a sperm bank in the conventional sense. We have 5 doctors who keep excellent health and their sperm is regularly screened to ensure quality. They are the only stock we allow for insemination.”

You blink to make sure you haven’t misheard. “The…doctors? Are you saying the fertility doctor I’d be meeting with will also be my sperm donor?”

“That is correct.” Shoko nods her head to confirm. “You will be meeting with the doctor of your choosing for at least 5 sessions. They will need to be at least once a week. Some women take the week off and come in 5 days straight.”

“5…sessions?” you ask, confused by the wording.

“Yes. It’s to ensure the insemination process has occurred an optimal number of times.”

“Wait…so…I’m going to be inseminated multiple times? How much downtime do I need in between each insemination?”

“Hardly any. Our method isn’t like a typical clinic. Most women leave feeling very normal and a lot more satisfied than when they came in.”

“Not like a typical clinic? So…you don’t use the catheter method?”

“We use minimal medical equipment in our inseminations.”

“Minimal…so what does the procedure entail?”

Shoko clears her throat and continues. “So it begins with you choosing one of our doctors. We highly recommend spending some time on this part. It’s essential that you feel attraction towards your doctor. Once you make a choice, they will reach out to discuss how your insemination experience can be optimized for you. You will receive a biodata on their sexual profile, their preferred methods of arousal, and other relevant details.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” You are at the edge of your seat wondering if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. Surely, this was all being made up? “Arousal, sexual profile- why would I need all these details? I thought sperm donors only gave information like height, weight, medical history and stuff like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re choosing to be bred by them. They would have to make sure their patient is satisfied with the experience.”

“Bred?” You bleat the word stupidly.

“Yes. We are a natural breeding clinic. We use the method nature has provided to us to ensure a pregnancy.”

The gears in your brain start turning and something finally clicks.

“Are-are you saying…I would be having sex with my doctor?”

“That is correct.” Shoko smiles gently at you, pleased that you have finally caught on.

“The human body doesn’t necessarily enjoy having medical equipment inserted into it. All that cold plastic, and the mechanical methods of insertion. It puts the body in a state of stress. Not good for implantation. So our doctors will inseminate you through the process of intercourse.”

Her words fall like a fog around you. You can feel your heart racing, a flush creeping into your cheeks. It was…insane. The doctor of your choosing was essentially going to fuck a baby into you. As your mind starts pulling up the images of their doctors, each one impossibly handsome and striking, you feel a familiar throb starting between your legs. Wetting your lips, you try to talk to continue with the information session.

“I see. And…there are benefits to this?”

“Yes. Intercourse allows the body to relax, releasing happy hormones. In this stress-free state, in addition to the knowledge that your doctor is someone you’re attracted to and trust, the chance of an implantation doubles.”

You gape at Shoko, your mind reeling from all the information.

“And…when you say the insemination process will be optimized for my best experience…?”

“The doctor you choose will ask you extensive questions about your preferences. What turns you on, positions, dislikes, toys. It’s to determine if they will satisfy your breeding experience. If they feel they might not be a good fit, they’ll recommend another one of our doctors.”

You swallow, your mouth going dry. “I see. And…what else do I need to know?”

“We will start by collecting your medical history and run some blood work to make sure your body is ready for an insemination process. Women who have a domestic partner will need to get both a waiver and a consent form signed by their partner that they have been informed what happens for the insemination.”

“Of course. Makes sense.”

“You will be assigned an emotional support companion during this process. It will either be myself or Mr. Ijichi Kiyotaka. We are there to help ease your nerves and ensure you enjoy the process. And all patients must think of a unique safeword to use during the insemination process.”

“Safeword?” you parrot back, still processing.

“Yes. At any point during the process, should you feel uncomfortable, your safeword ensures all actions cease and your doctor will give you some space to breathe and reassess the situation.”

All you can do is nod along. Shoko gives you a look of reassurance. “I can guarantee that most women are pleased with the results. And our doctors are quite skilled in what they do. It’s natural to feel a little shy and embarrassed but at the end of the day, we all share a common goal- a healthy baby.”

Despite your initial shock, you feel some of your trepidation fade away. Shoko continues.

“If you are ok with all of this, I can send you the forms to get the process started. Once those are filled, you can take some time to decide on your doctor. Then we’ll set up a call with them.”

“Thank you.” You make a split-second decision. “Please go ahead and send the forms.”

“Excellent. I’ll send them to the email you put in your inquiry. Was there anything else?”

You shake your head no. “I think I have all I need.”

“Great! I look forward to assisting you again.” Shoko ends the call and you immediately go the the website again to look at the doctors, one of which will end up fathering your child. Such a hard decision. How will you ever make the choice?

@thesunxwentblack @kentocalls @actuallysaiyan

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cevansbrat0007 · 3 months ago

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A Friend in the Dark: Part I

Summary: Ari receives an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night. Takes place directly after the events in The Do-Over. And be sure to check out A Friend in the Dark: Part II!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Sexual Fantasies, Allusions to Oral Sex, References to Home Invasion, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner, who helped me come up with the opening. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari runs an agitated hand through his already tousled brown locks before tossing a stack of documents on his desk. Leaning back in his seat, he finds himself wondering why he was somehow always the one who always ended up drowning in a sea of never-ending paperwork.

At this rate he was never going to make it home. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another night sleeping on the couch in his office. Unfortunately, it was quickly beginning to look like his only option. Of their own violation, his tired eyes stray towards the desk drawer that holds all the takeout menus.

Maybe he’d try that new Mexican joint over on Madison – the one that claimed to have the best tamales in town. It was a bold claim to be sure. But it was definitely worth investigating if only so he could–

A sudden knock at his door jolts Ari out of his thoughts. How strange. Buck, Pixie, and the rest of the gang had left hours ago. And he was sure they’d closed up on their way out, which meant that he should’ve been alone.

The knock sounds again, this time a little more insistent. Next thing he knows, the door slowly begins to swing open to reveal…

You.

The woman he’d left behind months ago. Far away, in the little rinky-dink town of Bell’s Creek. Or so he’d thought. But now here you were. Standing there looking like you’d just stepped off a runway, wearing a black, off-the-shoulder mini-dress that hugged your curves just right.

Stunned into silence, all Ari can do is continue to gape at you. His mind races as you step into his office, a million burning questions hitting him all at once.

What brought you here? How did you find him? Was everything okay?

“You’re a hard man to track down, Mr. Levinson.” You purr before taking a seat on the edge of his desk. Unable to help himself, his eyes stray to the hem of your dress as it rides up, giving him a glimpse of your deliciously thick thighs.

“Why are you here?” He stammers, his mouth going dry when you invitingly cross your legs.

And now he knew that you weren’t wearing any panties.

You offer him a delicate shrug. “I tried to stay away, I really did.” Stretching your legs, you draw his attention to your stiletto clad feet. “But it was just too hard.”

Ari had never considered himself to be the type of man who was into feet, but that never stopped him from admiring your perfectly painted toes. Tonight they were a shiny, deep red that matched your manicure.

“Look, Duchess…I–”

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” Reaching over, you use two fingers to tilt his bearded chin. “That you haven’t thought about me since you left Bell’s Creek.”

“Every damn day.” He admits hoarsely. “But we can’t–”

“We can.” You softly interrupt, before sliding off his desk and sinking to your knees, forcing the bounty hunter to move his chair to allow you space. “I’ll show you. Give you a taste of how good it’ll feel to have me the way you’ve always craved.”

Ari’s pulse kicks up the moment he feels you rest your soft hands come to rest on either of his thighs. Meanwhile, his already impossibly hard cock is busy straining in his jeans, desperately seeking relief. His head tips back as he waits for you to do something – anything – before he resorts to embarrassing himself by begging.

“Did you really think I didn’t know how bad you wanted me?” You lightly drag your nails over his impressive bulge, delighting in the way he shivers at your touch. “You wanted me from the moment I walked into that church.” You allow your hands to rove higher so that you’re now gently gripping his belt.

“Yes.” His breathing is shallow and labored.

“But it wasn’t until you found me at my shop that day, when you got angry at the thought of me sleeping with Martin, that you decided you wanted to fuck me.” You slowly begin undoing the clasp. “Isn’t that right, Detective Levinson?”

“Y-yes.” Ari rasps, licking his dry lips. He groans low in his throat when you wrap a hand around his girth, freeing him from the confines of his pants.

“How many times have you imagined this?” The question comes out both sweet and silky. “How many times have you lain awake at night fantasizing about what I'd sound like when I’m choking on your thick cock?”

“Shit, baby!” He hisses as you begin stroking him up and down, working him with each sensual flick of your wrist. “Every fuckin’ night – gah!”

“Wanna know a secret?” You ask at the same time as your mouth slowly starts to descend, heading in the direction of his aching member. “I’ve been dying to taste you too.” You pause, stopping just short of taking the plump mushroom head between your lips.

“I can’t wait to find out if you’re salty…or sweet.” Ari’s hips buck when you finally take him into your mouth, greedily sucking him down as if you’d done it a hundred times. Of its own accord, a large hand fists itself in your curls, forcing your head down and making you gag as you struggle to take more of him.

“That’s it, Duchess. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Don’t…don’t…don’t…”

Ari’s House – 3:00am

Ari suddenly shoots straight up in bed, blinking rapidly as his bleary eyes work to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. He scrubs a weary hand over his beard before vaulting himself out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

Without flipping the light, he immediately turns on the tap, splashing his face with water. He’s annoyed by the fact that you’d managed to find your way into his dreams yet again. As if it wasn’t enough that you already seemed to plague his every other waking thought, now he also had to worry about you disturbing him in his sleep.

Although it had been days since you’d last spoken with each other, that hadn’t stopped him from keeping tabs on you. While he tried to tell himself he was just doing his due diligence, deep down he knew there was a little more to it. In his mind, there was nothing better than watching your hips sway as you unknowingly went about your day.

Especially when you were wearing those leopard print leggings you seemed so fond of, or better yet, a pair of denim shorts that perfectly hugged your ass. Sure, he was a fool. But some days he was beyond caring. He’d long since decided that you were the only good thing about this dingy little town anyway.

Ari flops back down on the bed with a disgruntled sigh. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, even if he could somehow convince his stubborn dick to cooperate. As he lays there, he finds himself wishing he would’ve gotten a chance to speak with you at the church potluck the other week.

At the time he’d been besieged by the townsfolk – mostly women – all of whom had demanded his attention. Meanwhile, you’d been content to stay huddled in the corner, picking at the food on your plate in a way that almost reminded him of a little bird.

Closing his eyes, he wills his body to relax in hopes of reclaiming at least some of his inner peace. Only to jump when he hears his phone begin to ring from its place on his nightstand.

Who the fuck was calling him at this hour?

Frowning when he doesn’t immediately recognize the phone number, he briefly hesitates before answering.

“Hello?” The greeting comes out a little gruffer than he intends.

“Ari?”

His world suddenly grinds to a screeching halt. Because while he doesn’t recognize the number, definitely knows the voice.

He’d know your voice anywhere.

“Ari…are you there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I–I’m here.” He gives a quick shake of his head as he attempts to get his mind to connect with his ears. “You okay?”

“I’m so sorry for calling so late. I really am, but…” There’s no missing the distinct hitch in your throat, even as you try to keep your voice low. “I think someone…” He listens as you trail off, most likely to try and collect yourself.

“You think someone is what?”

“I think someone is outside my house. I–I think they’re tryin’ to get in.”

It’s at that moment when Ari feels all breath literally leave his body. Mostly because it was the last thing he expected you to say. Regardless, seconds later he’s on his feet, hastily throwing on his clothes.

“Where are you now?” His tone is short and clipped as he goes about collecting his things.

“I’m locked in my room.” You whisper while struggling to keep the tears at bay. “I ran when I heard them scratching at the backdoor.”

“Good girl.” He grunts before putting the phone on speaker so that he can begin lacing up his boots. “You got somethin’ to protect yourself until I get there?”

“I have a bat.” You supply helpfully, even as you huddle on the floor by your bed.

“Baby, I meant more like a gun.”

“Um, no. No.” You inwardly curse yourself for being so afraid of those damned things. Your uncle used to own one, but you’d foolishly gotten rid of it after he passed. ”I–I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Ari speeds down the stairs, taking them two at a time as he holds the phone to his ear. “I want you to stay right where you are, okay? Gimme your address.”

“Okay.” Your fear is so palpable, it’s almost paralyzing. But you at least have enough sense to remember where you lived. Thank goodness for that.

“Good girl.” Grabbing his car keys off his kitchen counter, the bounty hunter makes it out of his house and into his truck in record time. “I’m on my way. You call this into the station yet?” He asks, double-checking that his preferred gun is still in his glove compartment.

“N–no. Because what if I’m wrong and–”

“But baby, what if you’re right?” He swiftly interrupts as his vehicle’s engine roars to life. “Look, I’m gonna hang up with you and call this in.”

“Please don’t go!” You cry, before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“I swear I’m gonna call you right back. Right fuckin’ back, okay?” God, he hated to leave you – even for a second. But this was something that had to be done. “You have my word.”

“O–okay.” Is all you can muster as you clutch your baseball bat tighter to your just. “But please hurry.”

“I’m comin’.” He assures you as he backs out of his driveway, pulling onto the street. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. And don’t you dare open up that door for anyone but me. You hear?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl.” The bounty hunter praises once more. “Just try and stay calm for me. I’ll be there soon.”

Gritting his teeth, he ends the call before dialing the one cop he knew would be on duty tonight – Officer Milton. Knowing time is of the essence, he hurriedly relays the info to the one man before hanging up and phoning you back.

Except you don’t answer. In fact, it goes straight to voicemail. When the same thing happens a second time, Ari gives up in favor of concentrating on the road. He’d be to you soon. And whoever was responsible had better hope that the police beat him to the punch.

Otherwise the fine officers of Bell’s Creek would have a dead man on their hands.

END PART ONE

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nadvs · 4 days ago

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the act of unravelling (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

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Rafe stands and looks down at the body, his fists clenched tightly. Reality is setting in now. He could go to prison. His future could be ruined.

He’s perpetually at the mercy of his impulsivity, thinking only of the minute he’s living in, burdened with the consequences later. But still, even with his head a little clearer, he doesn’t regret this.

Ripping away the life of a man who wronged him was a thrill. He spends every day feeling like he’s losing and the power he had in his hands tonight felt so fucking good. He won for once.

You feel heavy as you push yourself up off the floor. You wish you could curl up in your bathtub under hot, gushing water, washing away everything that happened tonight.

The corpse is harder to look at with every second that passes. You glance up at Rafe, blood splattered on his face as he stares down at what he’d done, at what you’d done, chillingly unfazed.

“We can’t leave anything that’ll point back to me,” he mumbles, his voice low over the fireworks still crackling outside.

“Or me,” you have to remind him tensely.

His eyes land on yours. He’s always only looking out for himself. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have to worry about someone else.

“I’m serious,” you urge. Your survival instinct rushes through you for the second time tonight. You refuse to let Rafe throw you to the wolves. “I saved your life. You owe me. I won’t take the fall for this.”

“Well, neither will I,” he snaps.

“You shot him.”

“I could say you did,” Rafe replies. “And it’d be your word against mine. What then?”

You scoff, in disbelief of his selfishness.

“I saved your life,” you repeat. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

Rafe swallows hard. He’s not sure many people would do what you did for him tonight. They’d watch. They’d let him die. The possibility that you might feel something for him makes his chest twist with an unfamiliar warmth.

“We’ll look out for each other, alright?” he relents, letting his guard down for a moment. “Let’s just clean this up.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again. You pull it out, seeing Pope’s name. Twelve missed calls.

You hope your friends don’t get so worried that they come up here, ignoring the Off Limits sign Porter had put up across the stairs. But they don’t know where you went. You’re almost certain.

“My friends keep calling me,” you whisper.

Rafe’s jaw tightens. His friends aren’t worrying about him.

“You can’t answer them,” he snaps.

“I know.” You let out a shaky sigh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “We have to be fast. What do we do? Do we bury him?”

Rafe takes a beat to think.

“We dump him in the ocean,” he finally says. “We go to the marina and drive my boat out far enough where nobody will find him.”

“How do we move him so nobody sees? We can’t go through the house. We might run into someone.”

Rafe looks to the glass door on the other end of the room, the balcony offering a view of the inky night sky.

“There,” he says. “We’ll push him off and put him in the back of my truck.”

You consider it. Of the limited options you have, it seems like the only one worth trying.

“Okay. We have to clean the blood off the floor,” you say. “And everything we touch needs to be wiped. Maybe there’s something with bleach in it around here?”

For the first time since you entered this room, you feel hope. There’s a chance, a real chance, you could get away with this. You look back at the desk Rafe ransacked.

“Pick that stuff up,” you say. Frustration rolls through him. He never liked being bossed around. “I’ll try to find something to clean with.”

“Don’t let anyone see you,” Rafe mutters.

“How stupid do you think I am?” you huff before you turn towards the door.

You tiptoe through the second story, peeking into a bathroom cupboard. When you find a spray bottle that reads Cleaner and Bleach on the packaging, you grab it and head back to the room.

You and Rafe move quickly and quietly, using clothes you found in the closet to wipe everything with bleach. After a loud, consonant cracking of fireworks that you assume is the grand finale, the show ends. And you know people are on their way back to the house.

The neighbor’s private beach can’t be that far away. You have a minute. Maybe two.

You’re glad Rafe thinks to find the shell of the bullet. He puts it in his pocket. You spray the bleach over the floor again, cleaning every drop of blood you can see.

“Tuck this stuff under his shirt,” you say breathlessly, handing Rafe the bottle and the blood-soaked clothes.

You can’t do it. You know you’ll need to touch him when you move him, but you’d rather limit the contact you have with his body. Even dead, when he can’t hurt you, touching him is terrifying.

You pick the gun up off the floor, then open the balcony, relieved you can’t hear any voices yet. You peer over the edge to see the sandy ground. The balcony overlooks the side of the house, dark and secluded.

Rafe grunts as he drags the corpse out onto the balcony. You have to muster up every bit of strength you have as you help heave Porter’s body over the railing. He falls with a hard thud, facedown in the sand.

You have to jump the balcony. You can’t risk going downstairs. Rafe is wide-eyed as you hitch your leg over the railing, looking down with shaky breaths.

“Wait,” he whispers. “Let me go first. If you break something, we’re fucked.”

He shifts down as low as he can before letting his feet hang over the edge. He lets go, dropping hard, his ankles pinching with pain from the impact.

“Okay,” he says. “Go.”

You feel a splinter dig into your palm as you clutch onto the wooden railing with one hand while the other holds the gun. You make the split-second decision to keep the balcony door open to air out the smell of bleach.

You hope you cleaned away every drop of blood in the room. There’s no going back to it now.

You sink, hanging as low as you can, looking over your shoulder before you drop. Rafe’s arms wrap around you as your feet hit the ground, his chest hard against your back, breaking your fall.

“If someone comes,” he whispers in your ear, “run.”

Waiting for him to get his truck is torture. The humid night air presses against your face and you can’t bear to look down at the body on the ground.

Rafe returns and you move quickly, straining as you carry the body over the uneven terrain, the soles of your shoes slipping on the sand.

Once the body is in the trunk and Rafe unfolds the cover, blanketing the cab and concealing the evidence, you feel a shred less frightened.

You glance back into the darkness just in case. A glow of a phone screen is in the sand. Rafe is already behind the wheel, demanding that you get in, his voice carrying through the open rear window.

You feel for your phone. It’s still in your pocket.

“Do you have your phone?” you whisper.

He responds after a moment, “Yes. Get in.”

“I think his phone fell on the ground when we were carrying him,” you say. “We should–”

Faint laughs in the distance interrupt you. There’s no time to run back and get the phone without being seen.

“Get the hell in,” Rafe mutters angrily.

You obey, swinging open the door, barely closing it in time as Rafe peels away. Your muscles prick from the weight you’d just carried as you drive past the partygoers coming back from watching fireworks.

“Holy shit,” Rafe chuckles, near elated. “We did it.”

You stare ahead, your head foggy.

This will haunt you for the rest of your life. The thought forces a torrent of dread through you worse than you’ve ever felt before.

What if you’d run out of the room when Rafe and Porter came in? What if you’d left Rafe to deal with the body on his own?

What if you’d never gone upstairs?

You’re destined to agonize over the what if’s of tonight forever.

You gaze down at the gun in your lap and hold your hands out in front of you, skin stinging from the bleach. You’d wiped away the blood, but you think you’ll always see it on your hands.

You figure out that it’s a good thing you left Porter’s phone. If he was sharing his location, you’re sure the police could track where it was last before you threw it into the sea with him. They’d know exactly where to look for his body.

“We should shut off our phones,” you realize. “I think they can track GPS history from cell towers.”

Rafe digs into his pocket, glancing down to watch the screen go black.

“How’d you think of that?” he mumbles with a laugh. “Is this not your first time doing this, Pogue?”

“Nothing about this is funny,” you reply.

“Relax,” he says. “We got away with it.”

“You can’t be so sure,” you say. “One fingerprint in that room and…”

You can’t think about it.

In the paroxysm of emotions you’re already feeling, guilt digs a hole into your stomach when you see Pope’s most recent text before you power off your phone.

Answer the phone. We’re worried.

·········

The clock on Rafe’s dashboard reads 10:44 when you reach the marina. He parks right by the main dock. The place seems quiet, the water crowded with seemingly unoccupied boats.

“I’ll take a walk around to make sure we’re alone,” he says, pulling his key out of the ignition.

The car door slams shut and you’re left with a gun in your lap, a body in the trunk, and your tormenting thoughts.

Maybe you missed something back in that room.

You picture Porter’s phone lighting up in the sand. His last text to you said to come upstairs. When the cops inevitably start searching for answers, you’ll be questioned.

A minute later, Rafe swings open your door, pulling you out of your daze. You meet his glare, his hair tousled and sweaty.

“We’re good,” he says. “Move.”

Having to haul the body over the dock past darkened, quiet boats is unnerving. Ater you leave it at the back of Rafe’s boat, you stand behind him at the helm.

Your arms are crossed and the gun is tucked by your elbow, because if you learned anything tonight, it’s that you can’t trust anyone.

Rafe’s still a man. A man who takes what he wants when he wants it. A man who killed someone because he didn’t obey him. He could hurt you if he wanted to. It’s best not to be alone with him.

“I should wait in the car,” you mumble. Rafe shakes his head in frustration, driving the boat forward. The boat’s motor hums as you rock with its movements.

“No,” he mutters condescendingly. It reminds you of why underneath the stubborn pull you’ve always felt towards him, you’ve also harbored a quiet fear. Rafe is violent. Possibly enough to hurt you the same way Porter did.

You feel for the gun again. If two men have to die tonight, so be it. The fact that your mind went there chills you.

Rafe looks over at you, lips twisting in annoyance.

“Don’t feel bad for that asshole,” he mutters. “He asked for it.”

It’s the worst possible thing he could’ve said. Your throat is raw with the threat of tears. Asked for it. Would he say the same about what happened to you?

“I don’t regret it,” you tell him, sure that he’s assuming that that’s why you’re so tense. “I’m just worried we missed something.”

“If we did, nothin’ we can do about it now,” he says. You look ahead at the dark sea, moonlight shining over the water’s ripples.

“We need to figure our story out,” you say. “How’d you end up upstairs? Did anyone see you?”

“I stopped him while everyone was going outside to watch the show,” he recalls. “Told him to show me where he was keeping his coke because I heard he was selling again. It was loud. I don’t think anyone heard, but maybe someone saw. I don’t know.”

“Why do you sell?” you ask, face pinched in confusion. “Why did you even care that he was selling, too? You don't have enough money already?”

“I gotta keep your tips coming, don’t I?” he says smugly. You scoff, jarred by his blasé attitude, despising his cold arrogance.

He notices the angry scowl on your face. He’s convinced he’ll never break through the hatred you have for him.

“I want to make my own money. That’s why,” he admits. It’s half the truth, but it’s good enough.

It’s surprising to hear that Rafe, a man you thought coasted on the wealth he was born into, possesses a work ethic. Even though he uses it to deal drugs.

“Did anyone see you go upstairs?” he asks.

“I don’t think so,” you say.

“Why were you there?”

You chew on your lip, the truth sitting on your chest like a ton of bricks. There’s no point in telling him. He thinks your motive was the same as his. Money. And you’ll let him believe it.

Besides, talking about it now, merely an hour afterwards, will only make you cry again and your head is pounding from how much you’ve already wept tonight. How could you possibly say it out loud?

“To buy pot. Then I smoked too much and passed out.” You keep talking before he can ask anything else. “Are we far out enough?”

Rafe looks back to make sure the marina is out of sight before he kills the engine.

Pushing Porter’s body over the guardrail is harder than the other times you’d carried him tonight. The water is rocking the boat so much now that you’re far into the ocean. Your breath is strained as you heave him over the metal, his body hitting the water with a loud splash under the bright moon.

Rafe pulls out the bullet shell in his pocket and tosses it in the water. You know you have to throw the gun in, too. It’s hard to. But you do it.

Rafe looks over the edge now that everything is sinking to the bottom, his forearm brushing against yours. He notices how quickly you jerk away, refusing to let him touch you. The pull he feels towards you is obviously one-sided. Your eyes flit away when you look at him.

“You have blood on your face,” you tell him soberly. His temper flares, feeling stupid for thinking a girl could feel anything but afraid of him after he shot someone right in front of her. Even though she was the one who told him to do it.

You might have a deadly thirst for revenge in common, but that’s where the similarities end. He stalks past you to wash himself off in the bathroom below the deck.

You let out a shaky breath. The unexpected contact with Rafe startled you. After tonight, you’re sure you’ll always be scared to be around men you don’t know all that well. Even the ones that seem decent are just lions in sheep’s clothing. The monster that proved that to you is below the ocean’s surface now.

You look into the murky water, and despite the fear and the anxiety and dread weighing on your heart, you’re glad that this is how it ended. Porter paid the ultimate price for what he did to you. He doesn’t deserve to live, to smile, to feel anything ever again.

·········

You and Rafe sit behind the hull, the boat swaying with the tide. You start to piece together an alibi and decide to admit you were upstairs together. If even one person says they saw either one of you go up there, you won’t be caught in a lie.

As you talk, Rafe can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re clearly scared, but trying to stay level-headed. He doesn’t get how you do it. He’s always been bad at keeping his mind steady. He never had a reason to even try.

“So, I went up first after he texted me to come buy from him,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. “I got high and passed out. Then you came up with him to find his stash. We’re obviously going to have to come clean about the drugs.”

“What do you mean obviously?”

“You’re going to be a suspect the second the police start talking to people,” you tell him. “Everyone knows you had an issue with him. And why. You can’t lie about the coke. And they’ll have evidence that I was buying weed from him. We have to be honest about it. They’ll find out anyway.”

Rafe sighs, knowing you’re right.

You hug yourself as a cool breeze carries over the water. The weakness in your gaze reminds Rafe of the way you’d cried on the floor earlier tonight. Before all this, he only ever saw you as strong-willed and sharp-tongued.

Even though calming a man like Rafe down when he’s angry sounds like it’d be impossible, you figure it’s the only direction your alibi can go.

“We’ll say I talked you down and…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t make sense that we’d stay up there. I think we say we left him in his room and sat on the beach alone in front of the house to watch the fireworks from there.”

You worry it’s not enough. You’re certain that no one who knows either one of you would buy that you voluntarily spent time together.

“Maybe the cops would believe we hung out,” you mumble, “but nobody else would.”

Rafe stills. His friends like to give him crap about how much time he spends talking to you when he supposedly hates Pogues. If he told them he was with you all night, they’d say they saw it coming.

“They could,” he says after a few seconds of silence.

“My friends would never believe it,” you scoff. He purses his lips, pissed off at your tone, at the clear implication that you talk shit about him with your friends.

“It’s our only option,” he mutters sharply.

“You’re right,” you give in. “Then what? We went home before people got back? I guess that way if anyone saw us leave together, we have it covered.”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “That’s the story.”

“Okay. It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do.” You check your phone for the time, only to remember it’s turned off. “Can you drive me home now? I’ll say my phone died. You should do the same when people ask where you’ve been.”

Rafe doesn’t admit to you that nobody was checking up on him, that nobody ever does. He only stands up to drive back to the dock.

·········

Your first priority when you get home is to text your friends, guilt consuming you now that it’s been over two hours since you last saw them and they have no idea what happened to you.

You turn on your phone to see a string of missed calls and texts from the guys. You open the group-chat and type: I’m so sorry. I’m okay. Got too high and lost track of time. Home now.

They video call you to be sure that you really made it home safe, drunkenly rambling on about how they assumed you went to see the fireworks early, leaving them to search the neighbor’s beach for you.

As you listen to them talk over each other on the phone, it’s the first time you see your reflection since you left the house, when you were oblivious to the fact that the impending hours would change you forever.

You can see it in your eyes that you’re not the same. You can only hope that they don’t catch on.

·········

It’s been three days. You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve hardly been eating. And no matter how many times you tell yourself there’s no use in thinking about how different the night could have turned out, it doesn’t stop your head from spinning into hypotheticals.

All you told your friends was that you were with a boy and that they didn’t need to know any more. Because they all see you as a sister, they were happy to be spared the details.

If only they knew. A few nights ago, you promised them you wouldn’t talk about Rafe ever again. You never would’ve thought the reason would be because you’d committed a crime together.

You’re back at work. Smiling and chatting and serving drinks and acting like everything is fine is harder than you expected.

The thought of seeing Rafe again is oddly comforting. No matter how twisted it is, you have a bond now, held together by secrecy and shared trauma. He’s the closest to knowing what you’re going through.

Even though you were afraid of him on the boat, when he dropped you off, he waited until you got into the house before he drove off. Maybe he sees you as someone he needs to protect, even if it is for his own selfish reasons.

No matter how unhinged he is, having someone like him in your corner is comforting after what you’d suffered through.

You spot Rafe sitting alone at the near empty club bar on your way out and your heart settles, but when you catch a glimpse of the flatscreen mounted on the wall a moment later, it drops. You knew it was inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any better.

Rafe swallows bitter whiskey, gazing up at the tv. Under a photo of Porter reads MISSING as his parents speak to the press. What if he went missing? Who’d care? What would his dad say – at least it wasn’t Sarah?

He looks down at the bartop. The thrill of what he did has faded. It’s not a surprise. His life is nothing but a cycle of short-lived highs.

When he sees the look on Porter’s parents’ faces on the tv, jealousy and loneliness screw a hole into his heart. He knows it’s fucked up to envy the man he killed. He doesn’t care.

His eyes drift over the bar to see you standing on the other end. You’re in shock as you stare up at the broadcast, looking guilty as hell. He glares at you until you finally meet his eyes.

Rafe curtly gestures to you to sit next to him. Even though he looks mad, you’re relieved to close the distance between you.

“You’re being obvious,” he says quietly once you sit next to him, an edge to his tone.

You look back to see only a few other people sitting in the restaurant area behind you, far from earshot. You won’t be heard, but you both know you have to speak vaguely just in case.

“Someone I know is missing,” you reply. “It’s normal to be worried about that.”

“What do you know about normal?” he scoffs.

You lock eyes, sure that you’re both replaying the night in your minds, sure that you’re both far from sane after what you did. His gaze is cold, a reflection of how angry he is that you’re not handling what happened as well as he is.

“Great talking to you,” you snip sarcastically, shifting to stand up.

“Wait,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you again, this time with a bit of the hardness in his eyes gone. “We need to talk.”

(to be continued)

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misasimagines · 2 months ago

Text

desperation / reader x Taiga (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: Taiga! Romeo is a guest.

rating: NSFW!!!! The actual start of smut is marked with a (***) so if you wanted to read the rest and skip that, you can, but otherwise please. It's smut.

warnings: general Taiga warnings? gun, blood, biting, sex. let me emphasize blood. FEM BODIED READER! Not gender neutral.

anyway first smut fic and first time writing about Taiga, everyone please go easy on me. @ the ask who wanted possessive Taiga, uh, I hope this works for you

Taiga was an enigma to you. He seemed like a dozen different people all wrapped into one threateningly sharp package. Sometimes, you watched him gambling, feet kicked up on the dealer’s table, eyes glinting with mischief, and thought being around him would feel like life itself. All excitement and impulse and adrenaline and it made your heart race with the adventure of it all. You could imagine your own Bonnie and Clyde romance, doing whatever you wanted, getting whatever you wanted. Living solely for thrill and satisfaction.

Other times, you hid as he slouched through Sinostra, blood covered, eyes empty. You hid because you knew he wouldn’t even remember who you were after he finished gutting you and leaving whatever was left to bleed into the carpets. You hid and you shamefully wondered how bad it would be to step into his line of sight. Just risk it. You could be the rabbit jumping into the wolf’s mouth just to avoid the pain of being cut in two. Would it be so bad?

Today was different. Today, you didn’t watch him from the entrance of the casino or with a held breath around the corner in the hall. Today, he was sitting across from Romeo, head leaned back and staring up at the ceiling.

“-from a general admissions student in Mortkranken. Avoid the ghouls. I’ll text you the details, but take it back to your room first, do not come here. Someone will come pick it up from you. Do you understand?”

Sounded complicated, but that was par the course with Romeo. You wondered if he had you running drugs (again) and, with a nod of agreement, you decided it was best if you didn't know. It wasn't your choice to be Romeo's drug mule anymore than it was to be his secretary and verbal punching bag, but hey, it paid the bills. So to speak.

“Repeat it,” he demanded, arms crossed and staring down his perfect nose at you.

“I’m picking up your package from a general admissions student in Mortkranken. I’ll avoid Yuri and Jiro and take it back to my room and wait for one of your guys to come get it. Does that cover it?” You responded, crossing your own arms in retort. You were willing to put up with a lot when it came to Romeo, but that didn’t mean you had to do it with a smile and a nod.

His eyes narrowed slightly, annoyed by your attitude but unwilling to spend the energy on reacting to it. “Just go.”

You stood up and managed only a step before Romeo gave you another order.

“And take those folders to Shinjo on your way.” He gestured to a stack of papers sitting too close to Taiga.

It felt like trying to take a bowl of food from a territorial dog and you felt your blood pressure rise as you considered what violence he could enact simply for you getting in his space. He could rip you apart with his teeth, that was always an option. Or he could shoot you with any number of guns he just so happened to always have on him. He also wasn’t a stranger to beating people with blunt objects, though you didn’t see a baseball bat or metal bar in the vicinity. That option was probably off the table for now.

You stilled your racing thoughts. He wasn’t even paying attention. The papers weren’t his. Romeo was right there. You would be fine. You reached down for the folders.

And he snatched your wrist, his gaze dropping to you and cementing you in place. “You love taking orders, don’t you, kitty-cat?”

His grip wasn’t particularly tight. You didn’t feel your circulation cut off, your bones being ground into dust- no, he just held you. Kept you there until you answered his question, a question you didn’t feel so inclined to answer. Enjoy taking orders- of course you didn’t delight in being Romeo’s servant. To anyone else, you might have snapped at the insinuation. But no one else was Taiga, and snapping at him could mean getting your bones snapped in retaliation. Your heart raced and you wondered if Romeo would intervene. Probably not, not unless there was a risk of staining his furniture. You didn’t want to let it go that far. “Let me go,” You insisted, voice more of a squeak than you intended.

Taiga cupped a hand around his ear and pretended he couldn’t hear you.

“Let. Me. Go.” You repeated, a decibel louder.

“No one told you you couldn’t leave.” He responded casually.

You flushed with indignation and wrenched your wrist free, grabbing up the files and almost running out. No one told you you couldn't leave…as if you needed permission. As if he hadn't forced you to stop. As if being Taiga didn't carry unspoken rules and crossed boundaries. As if- no, you didn't need to waste your thoughts on more as ifs. You knew the connotations he brought with him with every action, just by virtue of being Taiga and you know he had no reason to acknowledge them himself.

You just needed to leave. Still… As you rushed out, you wondered why he’d asked you anything. He certainly had never given you the attention before. You would have felt better if you knew he watched you on the way out, maybe with interest, maybe with disappointment, but as you reached the door and shoved your way into the hall, you peaked back.

He was back to staring up at the ceiling.

~~~

It had been a long few weeks. Back and forth from house to house, you never had a chance to catch your breath. If someone wasn't ordering you to do something with a sneer, they were putting you in a situation where you ended up with bruises and scrapes and potentially even worse injuries. They didn't all intend to hurt you, but the results spoke for themselves and you did hurt. The hurts just weren't all visible.

It didn't matter that your hips ached and your feet were sore and there was a split blister on the back of your heel that bled into your sock. You had another errand to run that you were going to be late for and Romeo was going to kill you. You ran, letting out breathless apologies as you bumped into Sinostra students on your way to Romeo’s VIP room. A nearly overflowing bag bounced around in your arms and used your chin to try to hold the tons of little plastic baggies in place as you rushed. It wasn’t the best feeling, being so close and personal to what you could only assume was illegal, mind altering substances, but an accidental whiff of cocaine was definitely less painful than a lecture from Romeo. In fact, it might have made the impending lecture bearable.

Turning a corner, you slammed into something and your bag lept out of your arms.

Taiga had his hands in his pockets, hardly phased from your extreme collision. You had managed to stay upright, but your contraband was scattered all over the floor.

“Fuck,” you hissed.

“You gonna pick all that up?” Taiga asked, making no move to help you.

You took a careful breath to steady your anger. “I have to,” you responded as cooly as you could before crouching to start your collection.

Once again, with the same pressure as before, Taiga grabbed your arm and pulled you back to standing. “Do you enjoy any of it?” He asked, nudging a bag with the toe of his shoe.

“Enjoy what?” You asked, watching his hand on your upper arm carefully.

“Anything.” He didn’t clarify.

Or maybe he did. “I-” You exhaled, tried to find some way to answer this impossible question. No? You didn’t enjoy being Romeo’s drug mule. No, you didn’t enjoy being passed around from house to house at Darkwick, the newest intern in every room you stepped into. No, you didn’t enjoy having your life uprooted, your identity all but erased so you could be whatever anyone needed you to be. No, you-

“Gah, you’re depressing,” he made a sound in the back of his throat, a rolling sigh, and then the corners of his lips curved into a smile. “Come with me.”

You had no time, or chance, to flounder, leaving Romeo’s import all over the floor as Taiga dragged you off into the casino. As you were led off, you couldn’t even imagine a world where you said no, where you got on your hands and knees and picked up every little bag and brought it to Romeo and still got yelled at. You sped up to walk faster, to keep up with him, to choose this, and thought this was the only option for you. As crazy as it was.

Taiga deposited you at a roulette table, pushing you onto one of the stools and clapping his hands over your shoulders. With a nod and a gesture, the dealer slid two untidy piles of chips towards you.

“Oh, I don’t-” You tried to stand up. Gambling wasn’t on your list of skills and you knew better than to gamble in Sinostra of all places.

Taiga held you down, “Lets see you make some choices, kitty-cat. See how much they really matter.” He leaned close enough so only you could hear him, though everyone else at the table and the surrounding area watched with wide eyes and rapt attention. Taiga alone was a spectacle. Taiga with you?

They were just waiting for the bloodbath. Casting a nervous eye around at everyone, you figured you had two options. Refuse and suffer the consequences, or commit and suffer the consequences. If you forced yourself to stand, told Taiga no, and left, that could be it. He would decide you weren’t worth his time, you’d stay a nameless face in the crowd. You’d be Romeo’s little gopher and you’d be miserable for the time you had left. If you stayed, win or lose, you…Well, you could win or lose anything. You had no guarantee, no way of knowing. Nothing more than Taiga’s fingers resting on your shoulders.

You bet on red.

~~~

You lost most of it. You bet, sometimes at random and sometimes with the thought of “it can’t possibly be the opposite of what I pick 4 times in a row, right?” You lost until the dealer shook his head, saying you didn’t have enough left to meet the minimum.

Taiga stayed behind you the entire time, offering no direction or tips, just sometimes pushing more chips forward than you were willing to bet on any given round. His hands were on your shoulders at first, and then he draped his arms over you, resting his chin on the top of your head. At one point, seemingly with no intention or realization, he had wrapped a hand around your neck and turned to yell at someone a few tables away.

You stayed completely still when he did that and received plenty of concerned glances in your direction. He put no pressure on your windpipe, and finally turned back once more to watch your games, going back to lazily leaning over you as if nothing had changed.

“Well that’s that, kitten,” He yawned.

“I lost all your money,” You admit, realization dawning and heart sinking.

He howled with sudden laughter, “Shit, yeah, you did.” He spun you around and held you by the chin, studying your wide eyed expression with a toothy grin.

The dealer cleared his throat and continued the game for the other gamblers.

“How are you gonna pay it back?” He asked, leaning your head back and exposing your neck.

The usual sense of being a prey animal crept up in your veins. The desire to apologize and back down and agree to anything to save your life froze your blood and made your heart pound. But you wouldn’t do that this time. Gambling with someone else’s money made you bold. Being around Taiga made you crazy. You grabbed his wrist this time, pulling it down enough so that you could stare at him directly. “I won’t.”

Someone behind you gasped, and then played it off with a cough.

Taiga didn’t stop grinning, letting out another shout of a laugh before freeing you of his grasp and stepping back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Maybe you’re more interesting than you look.”

You held back any fits of shaking fear that were creeping up on you.

“Try that shit with Lulu, but I wanna be there when you do it, alright?” He turned on his heel and walked off.

You exhaled. Shut your eyes. And stood up, walking in the opposite direction.

~~~

The casino was alive. Students from all houses gambled and drank and talked and lost all of their money. It was exactly what Romeo wanted. The flow of cash into his coffers would be extreme tonight.

The only problem? Taiga.

You leaned against a wall and watched him from across the casino. Despite doing something he seemed to enjoy, there was nothing akin to joy on his face. He communicated to the dealer in only gestures and each hand dealt, win or lose, gave him no hint of satisfaction.

There was a shake lingering in your bones as you lamented the task laid before you. Romeo told you to get Taiga out and do it without causing a scene. How would you do it? You had no clue, and asking Romeo only got a slew of abbreviations thrown your way. Maybe there was some code hidden within. You doubted it.

Taking a deep breath, you accepted your fate and strode across the room towards Taiga. You were enough of a fixture in Sinostra at this point that guests and staff alike moved out of the way for you. It didn't make you feel any better about what you had to do.

“Taiga,” you said gently, “the vice captain wants to see you.”

Taiga slung his hand of cards down on the table and collected the winning pot. He didn't acknowledge you.

“Taiga,” you tried again, “Romeo needs to see you. Lulu?”

“I heard you the first time,” he snapped.

Your blood bubbled in frustration. “Then listen,” you snapped.

A hush fell over the table. No one looked at you, but no one could pay attention to anything but you.

You crossed your arms, “Haven't you won enough?”

“Haven't you pissed me off enough?”

You had no clue what you'd done to anger him so much. “What are you even talking about?” You hissed, acutely aware of the straining ears of every other gambler and staff member in the vicinity.

“You’d kiss Lulu's shoes and thank him for the opportunity.”

You balked. The fucking audacity. “You- whatever. I'll leave you alone.” You threw your hands up in defeat and spun away from him.

You heard a click and something cold and metal pressed against the back of your head.

“You think it's that easy, kitty-cat?” Taiga's voice was low when he spoke to you.

He was going to blow your brains out in the middle of the casino.

“Walk.” He ordered.

You walked.

~~~

He directed you out of the casino and into the hallways of Sinostra, eventually guiding you down the corridor to his bedroom. Your heart hammered in your chest and you thought about every decision that has led you there. You thought about every way out, and admittedly there were few.

You could throw yourself to his feet and beg for mercy, you could try to run and hope he missed, you could call his bluff and just leave. You knew none of those would actually work, but whether you died or not wasn’t the question. It was whether you survived Taiga’s inevitable disappointment that was.

You reached his door and stood still.

“You know how to open a door, don't you?” He snarked.

You opened the door and stepped inside.

“Take a seat.”

You reviewed your options. There was an armchair, his scary torture chair, and the floor. Every option carried weight. Every option told him what you thought of yourself, what you thought you were. The prey animal in you made your knees weak and almost took the decision away from you. If you didn't use every ounce of spite and frustration you had, you'd have collapsed to your knees long before. But that was the case for this entire year, this entire curse nonsense with Darkwick. If you didn't have this burning desperation in you, you'd have collapsed long before.

Maybe that's what Taiga saw in you. Desperation. You couldn't say. You couldn't pretend to know his mind, hell, you barely knew yours. All you did know was that something about him, as terrifying as he was, made you strong. Something made you mouth off to him and something made you feel more than just fear right then.

You took your seat on his bed.

He stared at you from his doorway, gun still aimed at you. Finger on the trigger.

You sat on the edge, the balls of your feet planted on the ground.

He broke into a grin and manic, empty laughter. He haphazardly tossed the gun onto a table and prowled towards you, throwing himself down on the bed and splaying out behind you.

You exhaled and pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your heart hammering underneath your skin.

“You got what you wanted. You gonna run along like a good little kitty and tell Lulu you won?” Taiga asked, his grin fading into a bitter smile he directed at his ceiling.

You twisted at the waist to look at him.

His white button down was unbuttoned at the top, the collar unstarched and bent. He had his hands under his head, his red hair messy and tousled. The necklaces around his neck called to you to pull on them. The last thing you wanted was to go deal with Romeo right now. All you wanted was to give in to your desperation and he was just laying there.

You crawled over to Taiga and straddled his hips.

His eyes, so radioactive and piercing, dropped to you. Your face. Your chest. Your hands resting on him and the space he fit between your legs.

“What do you know about what I want?” You asked him. It felt invigorating to be above him, on him.

Taiga made no effort to move you. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.” It wasn't a threat.

You linked a finger under one of his chain necklaces and pulled slightly. “Show me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. He hooked a leg over your calf and flipped you onto your back.

(****)

You gasped at the sudden change, your legs wrapped around him.

Taiga leaned down and kissed you. There was nothing chaste or sweet about it. He bit your lower lip, pulling it slightly between his teeth. You opened your mouth for him to kiss you again, his tongue pressing against yours this time.

He took your breath away and you grasped at his arms braced on either side of you. He pulled away and you whined, deep in your throat, completely unintentional. It earned you a self satisfied smirk right before he grabbed the neck of your shirt and tore it open all the way down.

“Taiga-!” You didn't know if you were scolding him or begging for more.

His head dropped back down, this time to your chest, kissing down your collarbones and treating your bra with as much delicacy as your shirt. You felt the embarrassed urge to cover your chest for modesty, and might have had he not immediately latched his mouth around one of your nipples. He teased it with his tongue and then let his teeth brush against it just roughly enough to send a shudder up your spine. His hand kneaded the other he couldn't service with his mouth and before you could get comfortable with the routine of the sensations, he pinched your nipple roughly and sucked on the other hard, coming off of it with a pop as he grinned down at you.

Your face was flushed but you couldn't look away from him. You didn't want to.

He didn't bother removing your skirt. He shoved it up around your waist and rubbed his fingers over your panties, “How long have you been this wet?” He teased, pressing down on your covered clit.

You arched against him, desperate for more of his touch, desperate to be rid of any remaining layers between you. His fingers sent jolts of electricity through your core.

“Answer, kitten. You don't have to do what Lulu says, but you don't have a choice with me.” He growled into your ear as he leaned down again and his teeth grazed your earlobe.

Truthfully? “When you held your gun to my head,” you admit.

He laughed. And then bit into your neck. He broke skin and you whimpered in pain. At the same time, Taiga pushed your panties aside and sunk his finger into you. Your mind was going blank, your body not sure whether to focus on the pain of his teeth against your skin or the pleasure of his finger curling against your inner walls.

He worked his finger in and out of you and his tongue was licking the slight trickle of blood dripping from your neck. He slid another finger in as he pulled away from your neck and kissed you again. This time, you tasted your own blood in his mouth.

You wrapped your arms around him. You did know what you were getting into. This. Him. Good and bad, pain and pleasure, you were desperation made manifest and you weren't denying it anymore.

“Taiga,” you whined into his mouth, “need you. Please.” You arched against his hand and he ground the heel of it against your clit.

He pulled his fingers out of you and you clenched pitifully around nothing, thighs flexing and chest heaving. He sat back on his knees, stared down at you, and licked his fingers clean. He looked so, so amused by your want of him and you didn't have the shame to care. Taiga took his time unbuttoning his shirt, one button after another, until you couldn't take it anymore.

You lifted yourself up and gave him his own treatment, grasping each side of his button down and tearing it apart. Buttons flew off and you pulled the rest of his shirt off his shoulders, hands immediately pressing to his chest, down his toned stomach, reaching for his belt buckle. He grinned at you and grabbed your hands, pulling them away, letting you both fall back down on his bed. He held your wrists above your head. “Don't go thinking you're in charge,” he kissed you and you let him hold you down, eagerly rubbing the back of your foot against his legs as if you could urge him to just fuck you already.

He reached down between you to unbutton his trousers and free his cock, letting it rest over-top your mound. You couldn't see it, your bodies pressed against each other, his lips on your own, but you could imagine how he'd feel just from the weight of it against your stomach. He bit your lip as he pulled away, splitting the skin and once again making you bleed.

You pressed your lips together, letting the blood coat them, and fought back a wince of pain at the feeling.

His expression wasn't amused anymore. It was heavy, watching your tongue lick the corner of your mouth to clean away the blood. He was mesmerized. He lined himself up with your opening and pushed in all at once.

You cried out and he just caught you again, kissing you, pushing his tongue into your mouth, sucking the blood from your lips. You whined as he bucked into you, filling you so completely you couldn't imagine going back to being empty. You wrapped your legs around him, crossed at the ankles, locking him to you even though you both knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He barely pulled out with each thrust, his hips meeting yours as he slammed into you as deeply as he could. Taiga didn't let go of your wrists, his nails digging into you and you had started craving it. That pain he was so good at granting you in the midst of mind numbing pressure. You tightened your legs around him, rocking against each thrust as much as you could, feeling his cock driving into you over and over.

You felt everything in you tightening, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him as you reached your high. Taiga pulled away from your kiss, letting you moan and scream unmuffled, your back arching and your vision blurring as you came. He let go of your wrists, his fingers moving down to grasp the fat of your hips as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He hammered into you, dropping his forehead down to the mattress next your neck, right back to sucking and biting at the wound he'd left earlier.

He groaned into your ear, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he shuddered and came inside you. He rocked his hips and stilled. He nearly crushed you with the full weight of his body, his cock still nestled deep in you as he emptied everything he had into you.

You laced your fingers behind his neck, gently petting his hair as you took deep breaths and your heart beat slowed to something more manageable. You felt sore all over, your tongue coated in the metallic taste of your own blood, your neck throbbing from the bites. As you calmed down, there was an undeniable lightheadedness washing over you.

Taiga licked your neck and slid out of you, rolling over on his back next to you. You keened quietly at the loss, your legs dropping onto the bed, shaking and useless.

Taiga turned his head to look at you, expression blank and unreadable. It hurt too much to turn your head fully. You could only glance at him from the slight tilt you managed.

“That’s not gonna be enough for me,” he told you, voice uncharacteristically steady.

You hoped not.

“Don’t listen to anyone else anymore.” He rolled onto his side and traced a finger over your lips, down your neck, your chest, your stomach, and then dipped between your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat. “You're mine from now on, kitten.”

#tdb #tokyo debunker #tdb smut #tokyo debunker smut #taiga tdb #taiga x reader #taiga tokyo debunker

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mingtinysworld · 8 months ago

Text

Don’t Hurt Me

Pairing: kang yeosang x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The presence of a killer is made known on the news. Little did you know, you would have your own encounter with the man, experiencing a night you won’t forget.

Warnings: MDNI, mute yeosang, “psychopath killer” yeosang, mention of a knife, clothed grinding, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), handjob, couple clit slaps

NOTE: the sign language is the italics in terms of conversation

A/n: lowkey this idea was much better written in my head💀 but I hope you like it! I tried to challenge myself with a new concept, and honestly imagining yeosang in this role got me hot and bothered so yeah. Please like, comment and reblog!! - J

It was a late Friday night and you finally got off of work, completely ready for the weekend. To celebrate, you found yourself drinking at the local pub, which is conveniently not frequented by others often. You lazily stir your drink as you lean your face in your hand, watching the tv with an detached frown.

There’s no one around at this late hour. Only the barman and you occupy the space, giving you the option of sitting wherever you’d like. The sports channel gets switched off all of a sudden, turning to the news. You lift an eyebrow in slight interest, trying to see if there’s anything worth paying attention to.

“We present tonight’s news with great urgency. There’s been a dangerous man spotted around town. His face hasn’t been revealed, but he is going around killing individuals. Stay diligent, and if you see anything suspicious, call 911 immediately.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. This little town has stayed relatively peaceful for the 7 years you’ve been living there, so imagining a killer going around shocks you. You know you should head home, but the warmth is pulling you down further in your seat.

Suddenly you can feel a cold breeze brush past your shoulder and you shiver involuntarily. You lift your head up from the counter and almost fall backwards from the shock. There’s a newcomer sitting next to you, very closely.

He has long, silky, sandy blonde hair. His nose is sharp and jaw so sculpted he looks almost statue like. His eyes are looking deeply into yours and you could spend at least an hour trying to decipher all the emotions residing in them. He’s got deep, dark eyes, that are nothing short of being sinful. It’s as if he’s silently beckoning you to fall headfirst into his gaze.

After a few moments of astonished staring at the stranger, you compose yourself and attempt to sit up as straight as possible. You straighten up your spine and make direct eye contact.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask, trying to not sound overly inquisitive. You feel alarmed for a split second when you see him lift up his hands from his lap. You involuntarily lean back, trying to put distance between you.

“Do you know sign language? I’m mute, but I can talk through writing as well.”

Your heart rate immediately goes down. The poor guy was just trying to communicate. Coincidentally enough, you actually do know sign language. Turns out the four years of ASL classes in high school paid off after all, and you feel grateful to your teachers. You instantly sign back to him.

“I do know sign language actually. What brings you here today?”

He gives you a cute, crooked smile and leans in a tiny inch closer.

“I saw a pretty girl sitting here, thought I’d keep her company.” He finishes off with a smirk.

You can’t help your surprise at his blatant flirting, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Trying to match the vibe, you flirt right back.

“Wow, I’d love the company of a very handsome man actually. Thank you.” You send a wink and immediately cringe at yourself. What is wrong with you?

He opens his mouth in a silent laugh and you can’t help but admire his perfect teeth. He really is a beautiful man, the type to catch the attention of anyone and everyone around him. You can bet that even your most straight friends would want to get in his pants, no questions asked. He notices your distracted state and waves a hand across your face.

“What are you thinking about pretty girl?” He asks.

You flush from being caught staring at him. You’re thankful that he can’t read your mind, but from the confident tilt of his head it looks like he can tell anyways. You think of an excuse but choose to tell the truth.

“I just think that you’re very pretty.” You say honestly.

His face brightens at your admission, and he scoots a little closer. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you feel desire bubbling deep within. You can feel the soft puff of air from him against your own mouth and you dart your eyes between his eyes and lips. You close the distance between your bodies and slot your lips against his.

He moves along with you, breaths synchronizing. He slides an arm behind you, holding onto your waist with a gentle tug. His body warms you up and you melt into his touch, making you completely disregard the fact that this man is still a stranger. You cling to the edge of his shirt tighter when you feel a sharp, thin object against your ribs.

You pull back with a start and find that you’re held still by his strength. As you look into his eyes, you note with slight panic that his eyes have changed dramatically. He’s looking down at you with an excited malice, as if he’s looking forward to destroying you. You shrink down with dread, realizing that you’re utterly fucked.

You take a subtle glance at the tv which is showing the news still, and he catches the look, shooting you a toothy smile.

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m the ‘psychopath.’” He admits somewhat proudly. “I won’t hurt you though sweet thing. Not unless you want me to.” He drags a cold finger down your jaw, lightly holding you in place.

He removes the knife away from you, gazing at it fondly. “This little friend of mine has been with me through some things. Isn’t she beautiful?” A shudder goes through your body as you look at the sinister shine of the blade. He’s looking at you expectantly, wanting to hear an answer. You don’t bother using sign language anymore as he can hear perfectly fine. You only used it out of consideration, but there’s no more consideration left for him.

“I couldn’t care less about your stupid knife.” You spit with venom. You want him to be offended, to burst out in anger, but he only gives you the most irritating grin. It’s as if nothing can phase him.

“You’re so cute,” he shakes his head in what appears to be endearment. “I can’t wait to be buried in you.” Your eyes widen at that and you feel an involuntary fluttering in your core. You can’t believe that you’re getting turned on right now. The situation is absolutely absurd, a killer is sitting in front of you, and you’re getting your panties wet.

His eyes follow the movement of your thighs, trying to gain friction against each other. He splays out a hand against one thigh, keeping you still. You look at him with both shame and lust in your eyes, and he mirrors the latter. With a glance to the bartender, who appears to be heavily involved with his phone, he grabs your hand and drags you out of the bar.

You pull back slightly, making him stop in his tracks. “Wait, I want to know what your name is.” You ask him.

He looks intently into your eyes and answers. “My name’s Yeosang.”

Before you can say anything he drags you forward again. You walk for a few minutes until you reach a very shiny looking car. At a closer glance it appears to be a Ferrari. You look at Yeosang with a surprised look and his shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

“What, Princess? Were you expecting a trashy car from me?”

“I guess??” You say uncertainly with a shrug. He shakes his head again and opens the door for you. You get in and he closes the door after him. You sit there awkwardly for a second, not sure if you should do anything. Yeosang breaks you out of your thought however when he attacks your lips.

His lips are on yours in a flash, and you’re fighting with tongues. He squeezes your hip and slides his knee in between your legs, subtly rubbing against your now very wet panties. You should feel mortified, but all you feel is desire.

You grind against his clothed knee, and your clit catches it at an angle that makes you moan into his mouth. He grabs hold of your ass and moves you against him harder, eliciting pathetic mewls from you. You shockingly feel your climax approaching very quickly, and so could Yeosang apparently, and he immediately stops his movements. You whine in complaint but he shushes you with another intense kiss.

He quickly rids of his pants and your panties and pumps his cock a few times. You eye his length and your mouth salivates an embarrassing amount. You choose to give in to your temptations. You spit on your hand and slide it up and down Yeosang’s cock. He jolts in surprise but lets out a pleased hum, covering your hand in his, following the up and down motion.

If he wasn’t addicted to you already, he definitely is now. Seeing your tiny hand jerking him off sets off fireworks in his brain and he feels short of breath. He feels about ready to burst so he gently takes your hand away and has you lie down. He hovers above you and you can’t help but vibrate with anticipation.

He slides in slowly, filling every inch of space inside you. You arch your back in pleasure and throw your head back. Yeosang watches your reaction with eager eyes, needing you to feel like a goddess. He then watches your cunt sucking him in hungrily and loses all composure.

He pulls out until the tip is left, and slams back in with so much force your back bounces on the seats. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, making you see stars, and you babbling incoherently by this point. You grab onto whatever you can find, his shirt being one of the items.

He slaps your clit harshly and you cry out at the sting. He slaps it two more times, leaving you a sobbing writhing mess. A knot tightens in your stomach and Yeosang can feel you clenching around him. He grits his teeth tightly and somehow thrusts even harder.

A few more sloppy thrusts later you’re coming undone around him. Your stomach convulses and your legs can’t seem to stop shaking. He pulls out and comes all over your stomach, ropes of cum coating your soft skin. He hangs his head and lets out a few deep breaths.

You close your eyes and bask in the afterglow. Quite literally, because the light of the lamppost is hitting your stomach and illuminating his cum brightly.

He looks around for something to clean you up with and finds one of his spare shirts. He cleans you the best he can and caresses your flushed cheek. You flutter your eyes open and find him looking at you with adoration, corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He signs “thank you” and you let out a chuckle. “I should be the one thanking you, Yeosang.” He smiles softly and proceeds to put your clothes back on. As soon as the band of your skirt is snapped back onto you, you hear the sirens.

Yeosang stiffens in place, and looks at you with a distressed tilt of his eyebrows. He looks about ready to flee, but he hesitates. He looks around for something and you look on curiously. He finds a pen and paper and writes down some digits. He hands it to you and you see that it’s a phone number, along with an address.

“Come find me soon.”

With a mischievous wink he leaves the car and disappears into the night with the sirens fading away. You stay there for a bit, completely stunned with the turn of events. You can’t believe he just left you and the car like this, but you also can’t get over the intense passion you two shared. Slowly you get out of the car and head to your apartment where you should’ve been all along.

You do your regular nightly routine, get into pajamas and set your alarm.

You’ve got an important trip tomorrow.

#ateez #mingtinysworld #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atz yeosang #kang yeosang smut #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang #ateez yeosang #yeosang smut

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gojo-enthusiast · 9 months ago

Text

One Week Away

Series — My Husband Toji Zenin

Mature Content— 18+

*I’ve been detoxing life lmao— also I have a girlfriend now yay hehe.*

Toji had a work trip that was mandatory, he had tried to convince you to go with him, but when you weighed out all the options, and knew you would spend 99% of the time there alone, it just was something you weren’t up for. So you took this time out to invite your sister to stay the week with you. Maybe you wouldn’t miss your darling husband too much then.

It has officially been 6 days into your husband being gone, your sister is now on her way back home, and you are officially home alone.

“I miss Toji. I wonder if he would pick up my call? Is he busy?” You think to yourself. Taking the chance to call him.

As the phone rings, you go to press the end call button after three rings, figuring he was too busy to talk on the phone, but then hearing a woman voice answering, “Hello?” She says confused. “Um… Who is this?” You question, “Uh, that should be my line. Who are you?” She said snarky. At this rate, within a couple of seconds your head is fuming, and your heart feels like it had just been stomped on. “Was all that marriage counseling for nothing?” You think to yourself. Then you hear your husband. “Where the fuck is my phone?” You begin to hear other people in the back, one of them being Satoru. “You lost it old man?” He chuckles. “Shut the fuck up, and help me find my phone, I haven’t talked to my wife today.” He says in an agitated tone. “Wait why do you have my phone?” He questions, getting closer to what you think is the woman who answered the phone. “What?” She says, your heart is beating out of your chest. “Thats my phone, who are you talking to on my phone?” He says in an almost growl. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Toji, I thought this was my phone.” She nervously laughs, handing the phone to him. As soon as his phones are placed in his hands, he sees your name and photo. “Fuck. Baby?” He says into the phone. You had already started crying, because of course you assumed the worst, you couldn’t help it. “H-hey T-toji.” You stutter, feeling the tears rolling down. “Fuck, baby… are you crying?” He groans, you hear him walking away from the crowd, hearing Satoru in the background say. “Fuck, what did you say when you answered that phone?”

“I’m fine Toji, h-hows your trip?” You try to brush off like everything is fine. “Baby, she is just a fellow colleague. She grabbed my phone by accident. Are you okay?” He questions concerning. “I-I’m fine. I-I was just a little surprised.” You said with a shaky voice. You knew your husband wasn’t cheating on you, but what can you expect? It wasn’t always easy, especially with being apart. “I-I don’t want to be at home alone anymore. I sh-should have g-gone with yo-you.” You burst into tears, realizing how much you miss your husband. “Doll, I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon. ‘Aight?” He reassures you on the phone.

You both stayed on the phone for a few minutes, before he had to go back to his company dinner, and you fell asleep snuggled up to one of his hoodies. “I miss you.” You whisper into his hoodie, smelling his cologne, and his overall scent. It had been 6PM, and you drifted to sleep.

Toji became distressed with the thought of you being alone, he was ready to see his wife, to remind her that she was his, and he was yours. He had said his goodbyes, and grabbed his bag from the upstairs hotel. The drive was 6 hours, yet he made it back home in 5. Checking his watch, it was 12:36AM. Toji knew you would have been sound asleep, which was perfect for him, he knew how much you loved waking up to his head in between your legs, reminding you how much he loves and adores you. You also knew how much he worshipped your cunt, it had him making laps until your orgasms were almost painful. Toji loosened his tie, flinging across the room, seeing you in your little laced blue panties, and his hoodie, it only made his cock throb with just the mere sight of seeing you laid like that, he always loved how your ass was thick that your panties would almost get swallowed by them, there was so many times, he wanted to beg you to let him fuck your little ass, yet he knew how hard that would be, especially since it was hard to even take him vaginally, but he sure did fantasize about it. Toji took his belt off, unbuttoning his pants, letting them drop to the floor, popping the buttons off of his shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room. He had become a hungry tiger, wanting to devour you, until you shuttered at his touch. Toji was a kind and gentle man to you, but sexually, he could be ruthless, he loved to watch your pretty big eyes cry, whining for him to keep going, then to stop.

Toji crawled into bed, and gently turned you from your side, to your back, and slowly spread your legs apart. You were a bit of a deep sleeper, especially after you had cried. He saw the way your eyes were puffy, he placed a kiss on your eyelids, moving down to your lips, then licking you down your neck, lifting up the hoodie, he lightly sucked on your nipples, light enough to not wake you up, but enough for your nipples to harden. He traced his tongue down your stomach, then to your heat, pulling your panties down swiftly. He eyed your pussy, spreading your labia apart, lapping his tongue, sucking on your clit immediately. He knew your body more than you did, he sucked and licked, feeling your arousal start to come out, and his tongue got the first taste. He dipped his index finger inside of you, feeling your walls. Your moans started to fill the room, while you were slowly waking up. He kept lapping his tongue in your cunt, switching from your hole, to your clit, tasting you inside out. You woke up, wide eyed, seeing your husbands straight black hair between your legs. “T-Toji?” You croak out then moan. “Hmm?” He hum’s, as he continues to suck on your clit. “Ah- w-what are you do-doing h-here? Ah- T-TTojiiii?” You moan loudly. “Hmm you taste so good.” he slurps. He then inserted two fingers, beginning to pump in and out of you slow and agonizing, pulling moan and whimper out of you.

"To-Toji, please.." You whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes, your body feeling overstimulated. "You're so tight doll." He groans, feeling his throbbing cock leak pre-cum. "I need you." You cry silently, tears flowing out of your sweet eyes. "Do you love me?" You question, feeling a sense of insecurity. "Hmm?" He half questions, but he heard you plain and clear. "D-do y-you lo-love me?" You whimper as he continues to pump into you, but his dark eyes were peering into yours as he leaned up and his face was right in front of yours, "Do I love you?" He questions back to you. Your blood turning cold, and goosebumps covering your skin, "Is that what you're asking me? You're asking me if I love you?" He questions you again. "Y-yeah." You stutter, pulling at your bottom lip, biting it. "What makes you think I don't?" He whispers into your ear, curling his fingers inside your squelching cunt. "Ugh- I-I just w-want to h-hear y-you say you l-lo-love me." You whimper out, feeling an orgasm approach. "Hmm? Is that so?" He groans in your ear, his groin dry humping the air, his body was twitching at the sight of your thick tears. "Fuck, I could just fuck that pretty little face of yours, see those tears soak my cock." He groans, pushing you over the edge, you spasming and creaming all around his fingers.

"Toji!" You moan loudly, cumming all over his fingers, feeling that high he had brought you too. Toji removed his fingers, drinking in your arousal, licking his fingers clean. "I love you." He says to you, as he pecks your lips lightly. Tears welling up in your eyes again, pulling your husband into your embrace. "You only love me, right?" You question, pulling down his boxers, watching his throbbing cock slap his stomach. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, touching the tip of his throbbing cock with the pads of your index and middle finger. "F-Fuck. Doll. Wait-" He pushes your hand away. "I do love you, only you." He coos, lifting your chin to look at him, then crashing his lips onto yours, pulling you into his embrace. You felt him wrap his hand around the swollen member, and felt him glide it up your sopping core, slightly pushing it in. The slow stretch, Toji had prepped you as much as he could, he was on the verge of snapping. "Take a deep breath for me doll." He groans, you do as he instructs, taking that deep breath, and you feel him push himself into you, causing your breath to get caught in your throat. No matter how many years you two had been married, you still could never get used to his size. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you felt his tongue lick them up. Thrusting in and out, already pulling an early orgasm. “Toji, s-stop.” You moan. "Can't. You're gon' have to take it." He grunts. Thrusting into you in a Godlike pace, crushing you underneath him. You felt his strong arms pull your legs to wrap around his waist, and him push even deeper into you. "Do you feel how we are connected?" He groaned. Toji lifting your head, sitting up, he had you looking at the way you two were connected, you saw the way he pushed into you, and the way your arousal was mixing with his, foaming at the base of his cock. "Watch how I fill you." He growls into your ear, "Watch how my love spills into you." He adds, "After I'm done with you, you'll never ask if I love you again." He grunts into your ear. He had completley pulled you on top of him, gripping your hips, lifting you up and down, bouncing you on his twitching cock. He thrusted up into you, chasing your release, and his too. Toji pulls you to his chest, your head thrown back, he nussled his head on your shoulder blade, pounding you from underneath. "Fuck- Gon' cum." He grunts into your ear, then putting his hand on the back of your head, pushing your head to his, smashing his lips on yours. He fought for dominance, his tongue exploring your mouth. He quickly detached, sucking on your neck, leaving love bites. "I'm gon' cum, you're gonna have t' take it." He growls into your ear. After a couple sloppy fast strokes, his hot cum shot deep inside of you, slowing his pace, he still continued to pump into you until every last drop had entered into you. "We just created a love child, doll." He groaned in your ear, slipping you off of him, and pulling you into his embrace. "Oh-" You moaned as he slipped out of you. "Let me take you once more." He said into your ear, spreading your legs, and pushing his once again hard member back into you, stroking in you slow and steady.

"Tojiiii- I can't anymore." You moaned, your legs spasming in overstimulation, and your toes curled. "Just a little bit more, let me fill you up, I need you to give me a baby." He groaned, throwing his head back. His cock was twitching already, so senstive from just finishing, he did not want to stop, he wanted to keep feeling this ecstacy that your cunt offered him. Within a couple of minuets, he came again, finally pulling you to lay on your side, and he stayed inside of you. "Toji, take it out." You groan, feeling your womahood tender and swollen.

"Mm Mm, I have to make sure you give me a child." He says with a smirk, nuzzling down to the crook of your neck, leaving pecks.

Eventually you had fallen asleep, and your husband, pulled out of you, going and grabbing a warm wet towel, cleaning you up. He bent down to your stomach and whispered, "This was it, I know it." He smiles, kissing your stomach while you're sound asleep.

#anime fanfic #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #fanfiction #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut

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thisapplepielife · 11 months ago

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Beautiful Boys

Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV

Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made.

But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.

Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.

Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.

"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.

"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.

"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?"

Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."

Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.

Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.

Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it.

If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.

Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."

Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."

Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"

Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.

"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little.

"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.

"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.

"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."

Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.

Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.

"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.

Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."

Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.

He will. Wayne just has to be patient.

"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted.

"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.

"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures.

Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.

When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.

"You don't have to do that," Steve says.

Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.

"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.

Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets.

"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.

"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.

And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.

Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover.

But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.

Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won.

So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.

Wayne knows that feeling well.

He's got two of those beautiful boys, now.

close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy John Lennon, Beautiful Boy

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #wayne adopts steve #wayne munson fic #good uncle wayne munson #wayne munson is always the best #wayne munson & steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles #Spotify

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xxsycamore · 3 months ago

Text

COOLDOWN

╰┈➤ 🖤You're feeling hot, and Ellis worries that it's a result of overworking yourself again. It's too bad that his methods of helping you have the opposite effect of cooling you down.

Ellis Twilight x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Semi-Public Sex; Temperature Play; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Sexual Tension • wordcount: 1,927 • masterlist

a/n: A BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR @nightghoul381 !!! Happy birthday dear Ghoulie!! This is just a small thank-you for all the wonderful art and fics you've blessed us with, they're always living rent-free in my head. You know which ones I'm talking about. Wishing you many more fun moments on here, gacha luck, all the Ellis content... you deserve it all <3

Part of my Sexy Ikemen Summer Creation Challenge. Prompts: At the festival booth you're volunteering at + Go down on them with a cold tongue

"We're having a lot of customers! I had no idea running an ice cream booth can be so hectic!"

You place your hands on your hips and let out a sigh that does little to erase the liveliness off your face. Ellis finishes restocking one of the containers and gives you a look charged with just a bit of worry. He knows you've been enjoying yourself, but at the same time, even you are recognizing how tiresome this whole ordeal has become.

"You know we can close the booth now… Jude and Roger already took care of the thieves." Ellis reminds, his hand on your shoulder managing to startle you - it's only proof of how tiredness has dulled your reactions.

The mission given to you tonight revolved around catching the culprits behind the latest jewelry heist, expected to make their next big hit here, on the festival, allured by the shiny first-place reward for the competitions held during it. It turned out to be an easy job for your Crownmates, as the other pair consisting of Jude and Roger already reported to you and Ellis that the target had been neutralized.

While you ended up playing a key part in the mission, being on the lookout for the target the whole time from your strategically situated ice cream booth you volunteer at, you couldn't help but be a bit skeptical about, it in the beginning. While you fully understood that this was the safest option for you to help them out, it just sounded a bit ridiculous to remain here and sell ice cream…

This all changed when you realized how good of an opportunity this is to spend more time with your lover Ellis, especially since you both have been busy lately.

The booth's cramped interior keeps you in close proximity at all times, so much that Ellis' scent fills your head completely. He doesn't need to raise his voice more than a whisper for you to hear him, despite the noise of the crowd outside your little shared space. It's like there's a barrier separating you from the rest of the world, so you can't help but jump every time you snap out of your assigned crowd-watching between taking orders, by Ellis' hand accidentally bumping into yours.

You'd joke and say that the only reason your booth is so successful is because Ellis is quite popular with the town's people. He'd shake his head and argue that it must be you who lure them in, because of the happy smile you're able to put on their faces.

"It's alright! I can keep going a little longer. It's close to the end of the festival, might as well try to make it! Here, I'll have some nice cooling ice cream and replenish my energy in no time, just watch!"

Ellis smiles at your stubbornness, readily passing you the ice cream scoop. You feel his eyes on you, and it brings heat to your cheeks knowing that he's probably taking note of the flavors you mix, wanting to know your preferences as always. It's all the more reason to have your cool treat faster, before this heat can get the better of you.

"Mmm, it's so good. No wonder we have so much business! Here, try it too, Ellis!"

You lift the little spoon to Ellis, fully expecting him to take it from your grasp, but instead, he leans down and puts the end of it in his mouth. Your heart skips a beat at the unexpected dose of cuteness, and you barely survive it as he takes a moment to properly sweep it clean with his tongue and savor it thoroughly.

"You're right. It's delicious."

You nod and hurry to put some more ice cream in your mouth just as an excuse to remove your gaze from Ellis' dazzling smile… but you still feel his eyes on you.

"Are you feeling hot?"

Your eyes widen, spoon still in your mouth, as Ellis suddenly grasps the sides of your face, bringing himself closer to you.

"Here, let me. I'm worried that you overworked yourself and got a fever."

Before you know it, a pair of lips is pressing to your forehead ever so gently.

Ellis' lips are so cold… They feel good against your overheated skin.

"I'm afraid I can't judge properly. Should we get Roger? I think he might still be around."

"No, I'm fine! It's just…"

Despite being done with his little examination, Ellis doesn't stop holding your face in his large, roughened hands. There's no escaping from that twilight gaze, shimmering in question from your sudden protest.

"I'm feeling hot because… You're too close…"

In another second, Ellis' mouth opens in a small o-shape.

"Oh."

He removes his hands from you, taking a step back. "I'm sorry that I put my lips on you, then. I didn't realize."

"No, they were chilled from the ice cream and felt so good, actually…"

You said it without thinking, worried that you pushed Ellis away. It's the very truth but you'd rather keep it to yourself because…

"If that's so… Then it might help you cool down."

Because he'll never turn down an opportunity to make you feel better.

Ellis leans in close to you again, but slowly, giving you all the time to reject him. Heart hammering in your chest, you only turn your cheek to Ellis to receive his 'help'.

He plants a kiss on it, gentle as butterfly wings, and cooling as the air they're fanning into it.

It's only temporary however, because as expected, it only makes your blood pump hotter in your veins, receiving Ellis' attention after being in his presence for hours on end and not being able to be lovey-dovey with him.

He withdraws again before you can properly recover, and you see him retracting the poles that prop up the booth's shutter.

"Ellis…?"

"You're in need of a proper cooling down, so…" Ellis returns to you, and suddenly the room inside the booth feels as if it's shrunk drastically. He barely needs to encage you in his arms, but his scent flooding your lungs is so welcomed. The sounds of the crowd outside are a backdrop to Ellis' soft whispers, a sharp contrast between the intimacy and the reminder of where you are. He claims your lips next, and denying him is out of the question. Sucking on his plush lower lip, you want to rob him of all the sweetness and coolness lingering on it.

Once you're out of breath, Ellis lets go, taking in the expression on your face. He's smiling but his eyes are marked by a shade of lust now, and you're surprised to find him still playing along with the little game, taking another spoonful of the cold treat which has somewhat started to melt.

"Ah!"

Even if expected, the difference in temperature startles you when those mischievous lips find your burning nape.

"Here too… Let me kiss you."

His kisses begin littering the exposed surface of your skin, and once he runs out of it, he begins tugging down on the hem of your cleavage to cover more and more with his lips. Little shivers of shame run through you as your breasts spill out, but they're soon replaced with shivers of pleasure as soon as Ellis tongues at your nipples, just briefly enough to turn them into hard pebbles.

Quickly growing unsatisfied with his limitations, Ellis opts for finding the end of your dress and lifting it up instead, practically shoving himself underneath it just to kiss your belly.

The tickling sensation makes a few breathless chuckles escape your mouth, and you put your hands on Ellis' shoulders, though you're not even close to pushing him away.

"Hehe… Seems like we're closed for the day, actually…"

You come to the conclusion as soon as you realize Ellis is sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties from both sides and dragging them down. There's no going back now, and despite the embarrassment lingering at the back of your mind, you're desperate to feel Ellis when you need him most.

"Ahhh!—"

"Does it feel good? You're being so loud already."

He doesn't have to ask - the combination of his skilled tongue and the enhanced sensation from the clash of the different temperatures makes your legs weak. Your back rests against the wall of the booth as Ellis is seemingly hard at work to make you lose your footing. The hands that caressed his shoulders are now clinging to the fabric of his jacket, each flick of his tongue making your nails sink deeper.

Ellis switches to sucking at your swollen nub, only letting go when he notices your legs beginning to tremble. He laps at the new flood of juices he coaxed out of you, and the hotness of your heat has already erased every memory of the chillness he brought to you.

You don't have the heart to tell him his little plan of cooling you down was doomed to fail from the very beginning, as every place touched by his mouth has only been lit in flames as a result. Or maybe he knew all along.

"Ellis, I'm—!"

"Don't hold back. Come now."

His calm yet sultry voice echoes in your ears along with the thump of your own heartbeat, and soon your vision is overtaken by hot-white. Ellis works you to a powerful peak, not pausing his ministrations for a second. His strong hands keep your legs open, and they're your only anchor keeping you upright. A broken cry of his name comes out of you in a series of moans that you're barely able to keep low in volume.

In your dizziness, you don't realize when Ellis raised to his feet again, carefully arranging your disheveled clothing, sliding your panties back in place. He holds you in his arms for a moment until you can catch your breath, even if his sweet kisses are slowing the process.

"We can open the booth again if you want to. There's still ice cream left."

You blink into Ellis' arms, considering his offer for a second, then letting out a chuckle.

"I wonder if it would cause chaos if we were to bring it back home?"

You certainly don't imagine yourself bribing the rest of Crown with sweets, that's Victor's job. You wouldn't want to take it from him. Though there's something else worrying you.

"But Ellis…What about you?"

He gives you another smile before busying himself with opening the booth once again.

"Don't worry about me. It was enough to see you enjoy yourself."

Despite his reassurance, the air in your lungs escapes you in a sigh. While looking at Ellis, you notice that he's doing a repetitive motion of swinging his arm back and forth, flexing it, sort of as if it's gotten stiff.

Oh.

Feeling the heat return to your cheeks, you feel very guilty about giving Ellis a boner he can't tend to at the moment, even if both of you knew it was gonna happen.

Still, the image of him having to do that instead of waiting it out is somehow terribly hot to you. Along with the show of his well-toned arms, with shirt sleeves rolled up. Blaming it on being lightheaded from what he just did to you, you know you too should focus on anything but the newly formed arousal that pools in your already damp panties.

You just can't wait to make it up to Ellis, once you return home tonight.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @justpeachyteastea Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil ellis #ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight #ikemen ellis #ikemen series #ikeseries #ikevil smut #ikevil fanfiction #otome #otome games

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darkdemeter · 11 months ago

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・issue #1・ HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader angst (reader has insecurities/self esteem issues) — Tony being a bit of a dick — some minor language — some weird fluffy humour? — mentions of a “passed relative” in said humour — minor name calling and usage (“mutt and stray/pup”) — and I think that’s it? ✎ 3.4k

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

Mother Nature decrees that her law is absolute. Her will is to be respected, and all are intended to follow in her great design.

You do not change it. You embrace it.

And this applies to you as well, thanks to your common ancestor, that you shared the habit that left you tracking the red ball Tony kept bouncing against the polished floors like it’s the only thing in existence that mattered to you. And maybe because it did.

How could this happen? No high risk missions or deadly villains to stop from achieving world domination. No, today was one of those special days where you and your fellow Avengers could relax. And with the full moon so close, what better combination?

What you wouldn’t give to suddenly be on a quinjet flying into enemy territory. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping.

For everyone’s sake, you tried to keep to yourself for the past week but you’d exhausted your options. Walks in the park weren’t cutting it - not to mention the other dogs started it first - and you’d already destroyed five punching bags in the gym just prior. The treadmill be damned, you weren’t burning any energy on that.

Your last resort was to sit in the common area with your favoured beverage, a cool rag and some TV to calm the intense wave of anxiety. However, by her divine intervention, your beloved crew had come to flock in.

Mother Nature knew you were a pack animal at heart, as both human and wolf. It was how she made you.

The ensuing anxiety of being in a crowded space enough to put you near over the edge. It’s not like your heart rate only picked up a few hundred beats more when Wanda walked in.

When a few of the new arrivals waved and greeted you, you shared a hesitant yet trying smile and equally reluctant nod in return.

The battlefield was the only place you felt comfortable around your new comrades. But without missions or villains you were still getting accustomed to life at the compound; adjusting to life around people.

You were still considered fresh. A new recruit to the team. As Tony liked to call you… a pup.

Fuck, how you’d bite back your snarls from that term.

Fury assigned you to the Avengers some months ago. And though you had no intention of staying long, the missions kept coming in and a lot more required your specific skill set.

You remember as though it was yesterday that Tony said, “Alright Fury, we’ll adopt the stray pup. Just don’t go ripping up the furniture now.”

Suffice to say, you broke your own record at doing just that in under 3 hours.

“I think they’ll settle in just fine,” Fury had chuckled with a clap to the billionaire’s shoulder.

You shake your head at the memory. Still, if felt wrong to feel certain things for one of your teammates already. It wasn’t like you felt you really had a chance with her anyway.

The thought made your eyes falter from the now still ball for a moment, clutched in Tony’s hand as if it were your heart.

‘Who am I kidding?’ You chuffed silently to yourself, ‘She wouldn’t take a chance on me, I’m a damn mutt!’

Your self esteem issues had to wait though.

Thump.

‘Ball.’

Your entire head at this point tracked the ball’s movement, but your mind was still distracted by Wanda. The idea of her wanting to play ball with you, to spend those moments of intimacy with you. Tony’s words zeroed in from a muffled backdrop to the forefront of your mind.

“And that is why red indeed travels at a superior speed to any other. Ergo, why my suit is red, brilliant, eye catching and can beat anyone.”

You could hear the collective groans and disguised snarks beneath coughs without the noise being present. It was in everyone’s eyes and their scents.

Your eyes froze on Wanda, her striking eyes bore into yours with no hesitation. No fear.

‘How long has she been doing that?’

She offered one of her smiles that made your heart swell and stop at the same time, that made your searing skin cool and rise with goosebumps.

‘She’s so beautiful when she smiles like that.’

If she had one of those smiles then… you knew that grin that spread across her lips and showed a thin line of her teeth.

Your eyes gave away the betraying thought that you knew. Her smile turned grin riddled with mischief spoke volumes.

‘She read my damn mind!’

“I don’t think that is actually possible, Tony,” Sharon said with a click of her tongue and a disbelieving squint to her eyes.

“Oh no, it is,” Tony replied with a nod, “I’ll show you how the colour of this ball determines the speed in which it returns to my hand.”

He held up the ball in his hand, a proud display of its immaculate accomplishment, just a throw away.

Shit.

You bite down on your lip hard to suppress the whine coiled deep in your throat. A deep heat settled all along your neck and your ears.

Wanda still stared at you even in your peripheral.

Tony flicked his hand forward and the ball flew forward, bouncing once against the floor and bound into the wall with a determined thump before Tony caught it again, mouth agape to huff in his triumphant display in tandem with a curt yelp.

A good throw. Bad timing.

Everyone’s eyes had diverted to you. Their attention captured by the sound you made. Even Bucky, the stoic and reserved man who hardly acknowledged anyone with anything other than a grunt, appeared surprised if not the slightest bit intrigued by this new discovery.

You didn’t dare risk a second glimpse at Wanda, the flush in your neck seeped higher up into your face. Not that the shock and interest on everyone else’s faces were easier to process.

But you couldn’t face Wanda’s eyes now.

She had read the racing thoughts you couldn’t keep in line. Who knows how much she read about how alluring you think her scent is, how you whine and whimper whenever you hear her softly cry when in the privacy of her room because you wish to be there with her, her hand running through your fur to comfort herself; to let her know you’re there for her. How much it hurts you that she would never see you as nothing more than the mutt of the team. A beast that maims and runs rampart whenever you lose yourself to anger.

A lovesick pup.

You feared that the hot sting of tears was sure to follow any moment now.

Your fingers tightened against your legs, nails not longer the tamed length you maintained them as. In their stead were claws.

“Something wrong, pup?” Tony teased and you didn’t refrain from the rasped snarl that rose in your chest. Your teeth - and fangs - bared.

Fuck. Why did Mother Nature have to make you the way you are?

“Tony,” Sam warned, eyes cast between the two of you.

“What?” Tony only shrugged as if he wasn’t intentionally pissing you off and embarrassing you at the same time. “I just wanna make sure our new recruit here is alright, I mean, they have been temperamental over the past week. Chewing on expensive furniture and specially crafted improvements to my suit—“

The ball flew from Tony’s hand just as he was about to make a show of the ball again, the unmistakable red, misty tendrils swiftly brought it to Wanda’s hand.

Everyone was silent as they glanced between the red ball in Wanda’s hand and you. Their combining scents overwhelmed you to a new height. The fear that pinned you in place made the skin along your arms radiate with heat, either from the desire to run with your tail between your legs or to get defensive; to ‘wolf out’ as the others had called it. It didn’t help when Thor made an attempt to say something but otherwise thought better not to say what was on his mind.

Wanda eyed the object that held your attention. And you in turn couldn’t help but study her. Something in the way her eyes twinkled with curiosity, her lips pulled to one side as if to contemplate heavily on the fact that this ball held you in a vice grip.

Your short temper as of late, how you’d skulk around, much to the dismay of everyone fearing you had turned into another Bucky. The guy wasn’t that bad, you’d give him credit for that, the guy had a lot on his plate.

But what Wanda was perhaps most interested by that whenever she was present in the same room as you, all that would vanish. At least for the most part.

But to her, you would ask her how she was doing or even compliment her. Little did she possibly know that it was because you had felt a little courageous to take that small leap of faith to tell her she looked good.

But she might as well have that knowledge now.

You weren’t sure if it bothered you or not that she read your mind. Invaded your thoughts. In some weird way, you wanted her to. But you also feared her rejection.

But in the end, it all made sense. No one else pieced it together but her. And this time, she didn’t have to read your mind to do it.

She could read you. She knew you.

“It’s the full moon tomorrow night. They’re anxious.”

You were often lucky to avoid this topic with the others. They’d just chalked it up to catching you at the wrong time, that the mission was a hard one that day and you had some pent up anger to burn. The other half, you’d be out of the compound. Taking a much needed break at your apartment, visiting your sick grandma who they suspiciously noted you saying had passed away years ago three times now. But who was counting.

Never did they realise it all happened around the same time every month.

But Wanda did. She noticed it.

You brave to stare into those eyes you were content to drown in but find something else. It’s mysterious. Not what you’d expect to see in her eyes when she looked at you of all people.

“Y/N, Fetch!” Wanda cooed as she tossed the ball away from her. It’s a primal instinct that ignited within you at that very moment. A natural, engrained sense and desire.

How Mother Nature intended for you to react to survive or to have fun, your skin tingled with the sensation all too familiar.

The shift is over within the blink of an eye, seamless as you launch yourself over Wanda’s sitting body after the ball, large paw-like hands scrapped across the floors as you skid to a halt and the ball captured within the grasp of your maw.

Your tail wags involuntarily and your ears pinned against your head as you bashfully ducked your head at the sound of the others who chuckled and praised your reflexes.

It felt nice. Wanda turned in her spot on the couch to peer over at where you’d jumped over her, chin tucked into her folded arms.

“Nice catch,” she giggled and you swore she could see your blush in this form, “bring it here.”

Hesitant, you take a step forward and then another, your eyes cautious as they wandered over the others in case they deemed your advancements were dangerous to be left unchecked.

Rarely did you allow this form to take around them without the proper surveillance equipment and safety precautions. They already had Bruce to worry about losing control as the Hulk. They couldn’t risk you as well.

But no. They marvelled in their stares, smiles of contentment encouraged you to approach Wanda. You let the ball fall into her grasp with a small whine, ears still pressed back.

“Don’t be shy, Wolfie,” she whispered, the sound soft for only your ears to hear. You liked that nickname. You could only hope she would continue to use it.

Wanda raised the ball again only for Tony to interject. “No! No, you are not playing fetch in this compound, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda smirked at the look in your eyes. The same one you had right before you tore up all the good, expensive furniture within that 3 hour window.

A few more throws turned into furniture shoved aside to make room. Tony remained in the kitchen, arms folded and a scowl etched hard into his face, it would take a miracle for Pepper to wipe it from his face.

Everyone else was too engrossed in the game of indoor fetch, all having had a couple of turns by now with throwing the ball. Bucky humoured you once and threw it, an approving nod when you caught it. Clint, Thor, Peter and Scott fought hard to get the ball numerous times, Natasha and Wanda were promoted to ‘ball-directors’ so everyone had a fair go.

But Wanda maybe got an extra throw in once or twice - by order of Natasha.

Steve now held the eye catching sphere in his hand, high above his head. Though with your stature in this form, it was rather tricky to keep it away from your snapping jaws.

You yipped and howled in anticipation before Steve tossed the ball and you leapt after it. You caught it before it could bounce off the wall. An eruption of claps and cheers followed immediately, your ears flopped back as you whine softly with that feeling that buzzed in your ribcage.

“Bring it here, Wolfie.” Your ears perked up high and alert at the soft tune of Wanda’s accented voice. A few of the others couldn’t refrain from laughing a little at the sight.

Whenever they had permitted you to shift on mission skirmishes, it was all done through protocol and extensive preparation to ensure you were stable.

And they only saw one emotion when you changed. Aggression.

To finally get the chance to play and be comfortable in your own fur felt good. Shit, well beyond good.

“I was promised the next throw! Come on, give the ball here, Y/N,” Sam called with an outstretched hand.

Even if Sam had a point, you couldn’t stop yourself in your approach towards Wanda, who now was crouched down with her hand out to receive the ball.

Her eyes were soft in their gaze as they pierced through the veil of your own. It was like she could see the humanity deep within you.

Her magic touched you differently, prickled against the shell of your mind, you welcomed her in.

‘I see you as more than you realise.’

A whimper crept up your throat in response, ears tucked back and eyes often shrouded with the thirst for carnage grew to relax. Become tender in the embrace of her eyes - her soul - touching yours.

Your fur bristled suddenly and you shook your head with a huff. You dropped the ball into her hand and she threw it down the long hallway.

You bound after it, your claws clinked against the tile floor, your breath hot in ragged pants as you gave chase. Each bounce of the ball echoed faintly in the back of your mind, too occupied by the words Wanda spoke through your mind.

It was the first time you’d heard her voice in your head. And you enjoyed it. It settled you into a sense of calm.

You didn’t register the elevator doors open ahead of you, Nick Fury stood with files tucked under his arm.

Your eyes shot open and you swore you saw his unpatched eye mimic yours. Your weight was too much to control with the momentum you had backed up behind your pursuit in a cramped hallway. You skid to a halt but slipped forward, the force of your body knocked Fury and yourself back into the elevator.

A series of cringed groans and gasps reminded you of your teammates as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You’d knocked Fury into the buttons and now, your destination was another floor.

Sheepishly, he could tell, you whine a pathetic sound in your apologies. You shuffle in the elevator that was almost too tight for the two of you to fit with you like this.

“So,” Fury said after a few moments of silence, eye intently watchful of the floors you both now visited. Some had agents give pause and a receptionist even dropped her cup of steaming coffee at the sight of you.

“What brought the wolf out?”

He turned his head slightly when you grunted, ball held up in your mouth to show him what had ensued before his arrival.

It felt like hours that the rest of the team stood in their places, eyes stuck on the elevator door you and Fury both disappeared into.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” Wanda asked, voice coated in a toxic amount of unease.

She was scared what would happen to you. As a matter of fact; everyone was scared.

The government knew just enough and that was a hard - yet private - case that was not disclosed with the public.

Your existence and your species as a whole had to remain top secret. One slip up that was determined out of hand would grant you a one way ticket to who knows what for punishment.

“It’s okay, Wanda,” Clint assured, “I doubt Fury would do anything like that. I mean, he brought them to us.”

“He’s right. No way would Fury do something like that,” Steve added, firm in his judgement or perhaps what he hoped for.

“We will… figure it out if it comes to that,” Tony sighed from his place. Not often did Tony jump to your defence in cases such as this.

But in the end, you’d proven yourself mostly to be trustworthy.

He had some inkling of reason to believe you wouldn’t cause intentional harm to the team.

The elevator pinged and everyone held their breath as the doors slid open.

Fury and you stood side by side, gazes directed down the hallway towards your team. Your eyes immediately sought out Wanda who gave you a smile but her brows were furrowed.

Fury held up the ball as he strutted forward, like an obedient pup, you followed close to his heel.

“Next time, take the game of fetch outside,” he advised and threw the ball forward and Tony caught it swiftly.

Another good throw. Really bad timing.

You were still hyped up and because of that, you charged forward and closed the distance within a matter of milliseconds.

“Wait no—!” Tony grunted as he was pinned to the floor beneath your weight. “Get. Off!” He growled and you slinked away from him with your tail tucked.

The others did little to hide their laughs at Tony’s unfortunate expense.

“Good job,” you caught Bucky mutter to you as you joined Wanda’s side. You chuffed rather proudly and your head held high.

Steve aided Tony from the floor. “Alright, Fury. We’ll note that down.” Steve flashed a toothy smile and wink your way.

“I have a mission briefing. Ya’ll better buckle up and dress for the cold. You’re going on an undercover operation located in Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Wanda asked in sync with your curious head tilt, ears flopped to the side.

“Alaska. And you also have a guide present right now who is familiar with the territory.”

It didn’t take a second long for your team and yourself to gather what Fury meant, his single eye on you knowingly.

Fury left some time later after he handed the files over that provided more information on your new task in Alaska.

Wanda turned and knelt down in front of you, a hand ran through the thicket of your fur. The act itself made your eyes droop and your chest rumble. Wanda couldn’t keep the full, toothy smile to spread on her lips.

“I think this gives us all the perfect opportunity to play more fetch with our beloved wolf.” Wanda’s words didn’t go unnoticed by the numerous hums of agreement. Truly you felt seen by them all. For the first time perhaps ever, you felt accepted.

You even looked to Tony who shrugged with an eye roll. “I suppose I could indulge in a couple throws myself. So long as I can test my new theory of what travels faster: the wolf or the red ball?”

“Wolfie,” your team chimed in claim of their theory right there.

Your pack that Mother Nature intended for you.

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ no note from the author

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @alexawynters

#dark demeter writing catalogue column #treehouse taglist #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda x y/n #werewolf reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #y/n #marvel #mcu #platonic avengers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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bearlytolerant · 3 months ago

Text

Fandom: Star Wars: The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x fReader

Chapter Rating: M

AO3

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

EIGHT

You dream. The fire no longer blazes. It’s just logs in a small clearing surrounded by a field of wildflowers that sway in the breeze. The light is low and the sky is streaked in ombre pastels. Your master sits with his helmet on, upper half disrobed again and back turned to you. The temptation to touch his scars eats at you and you close your fist, dissipating the desire. He raises a hand and beckons you over with two curled fingers.

“What is this place?” he asks you, when you sit down next to him.

He angles himself towards you and you mirror him so that you’re facing one another. There’s a speck of dried blood just under his chin and you reach out to scrape it away with a fingernail. He grasps your wrist and tugs your hand into his lap. Next to him is a bowl of soapy water and he reaches in with his other hand, wringing out the excess water and begins to run the warm, wet cloth down your forearm. The grime from the day wipes away. Where the rag and soapy water came from, you couldn’t say. But it feels so good you don’t really care about its origins.

Your eyes dart around, taking in the dream scenery. A waterfall rushes behind you and your bodies are close enough to the riverbank’s edge that one small push would tip you straight into the water. You reach out beside you and pluck a pink wildflower. Spin it between your fingers. You swallow back your nostalgia, knowing better than to get emotional about dreaming up your homeworld now.

“I don’t know. I thought it was just a place my mind conjured just like last time. Just a dream.”

Though it’s real, what this place was for you is a dream. It holds everything you will never have again. What you tell your master is a half truth only. You know this place well. But don’t dare think the name of it. There are some secrets you still wish to treasure for yourself.

“Hmm,” he hums before dipping the cloth back in the bowl and wringing it out again. Fingers carefully clasp your chin and he tilts it upward, wiping away the grime on your neck.

“I thought you were just a figure I made up in my dream too, but—”

“I’m very real.” He thumbs the line of your chin, then trails upward, tracing your bottom lip. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. You’ve helped me.” His thumb traces the full outline of your lips. “Thank you for today, by the way.”

He removes his hand but you grasp his wrist and draw his thumb back to your lips. “I couldn’t just let my pupil die,” he says.

You kiss the pad of his thumb, so soft and tender before releasing him.

“He wouldn’t have killed me.” Your master dips the rag again then drags the cloth up to your ear. “But I have to ask, why did you spare him?”

“Why do you think?”

Your heart is already erratically beating in your chest due to your master’s touch but readjusts to a frenetic pace at the thought of what will be required of you. “I need to kill him.”

“Should be easy,” he replies. He continues to clean your body as you consider his words.

It should be—should be—should—

You swallow, your mouth now dry and desperate for moisture. The thought of killing your father is difficult enough to consider. His power over you is something you can’t seem to shake and there’s still immense hesitation on your part. You might prove to be a useless pupil after all. What would be your options then? Run? You would have to spend the entirety of what remains of your life on the run. You’ll be running regardless, but what your master asks of you is too much.

“I can’t.”

“You can. You will. You just need to find your purpose. Which is why you’re here. With me.”

“I think I need more than purpose. I watched you snap a neck with your bare hands.” You lift your own hands and flip them back and forth, staring. “I don’t think these hands are capable—not when it comes to him.”

“Why do you continue to lie to yourself?” Your master stills, tilting his head curiously.

“I’m not.” Your hands fall to your lap and you pick at your cuticles. He stops your picking, covering both of your hands with one of his.

“You and I both know what you felt when you had your hand around my neck.” His modulated voice dips low as he squeezes water from the rag with his other hand and you watch it stream in a wobbly line into the bowl.

“That’s different,” you whisper.

“Is it?”

“I like the power but I couldn’t kill you—wouldn’t want to.”

“But you want to kill your father. We both felt that too. And you have great strength in the force.” He begins wiping the skin of your right arm free of dirt and grime. “He has never been loyal to you. Easily discarded you. Disrespected you. He is incapable of loving you. You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. And don’t you want that? To have someone learning to love you? Willing to learn?”

“Is that what you’re offering?”

The cloth falls into the bowl and he presses his palm to your chest. Your heart thuds against it. “It’s what you are offering yourself.”

“I will need your guidance.”

“You already have it.”

You sigh. “Is this supposed to be the lesson then? Gentle cleansing?”

He stills. Slightly pulls away. “Yes. I am helping you learn that by caring for yourself and seeing who you really are, you will stop abandoning yourself. You need to accept yourself. Every time you do that, a piece of you can find your true purpose. And it is in knowing your true purpose that you will find victory.”

“That’s a lot of words just to say you think I stink and need a shower.” Your attempt at humor falls flat, unlike last time you met with him.

There’s a heavy, modulated sigh as your master runs his hands up your arms, digging his fingers deep into your muscles. All the jokes, conflicting thoughts and tension leaves your body with the way he handles you. Your mind drifts in an ever revolving reverie of just how good it feels to have his fingers on your skin. Pleasant pain is pulled out of your weary body by the stroke of his hands. You don’t know how long you stay suspended in time as he rubs every ache out of you while your eyes flutter closed, experiencing a peaceful bliss you haven’t ever before. Though you’re not sure you deserve this. You’ve done nothing to earn it.

“You deserve this,” he says, “to feel good. I’m teaching you to realize that. You’ve lost yourself.” Fingers dig into your neck and you let out a small moan. “But you will learn to grieve the person you lost and accept who you are now.”

At this point, as he massages at the base of your skull, you will believe anything he wants to say.

His fingers still again but you keep your eyes closed, reveling in his phantasmal touch that still lingers on your skin. You feel the warmth of his hands again as they curl around your shoulders and then the cool contact of his helmet against your forehead. It’s almost impossible to believe that he’s capable of killing so many Jedi when he is so gentle with you.

You slowly glide your fingers up and down his forearms. Crawl them up his biceps and wrap them around, squeezing. Dust your fingers back down and toy with his hands. You touch your fingertips to his knuckles and then lift one of his hands to cup your cheek. You show him a brief glimpse of what it means to love you as you press your cheek into his palm, soaking up every last bit of warmth from his hand. As if you could imprint the entirety of his essence into your skin. Barely rotating your head, you press your lips to his palm because you can’t kiss his lips. It’s a shame he wears that helmet.

“Why won’t you show me who you are?” you ask after some time, linking your fingers together in your lap. The desire to kiss him everywhere becomes overwhelming with each passing minute. “Is it because you don’t think I’ll like the sight of you?”

“It’s because you already know me.” He pulls away and gives you a gentle shove back into the grass. He crawls over you, the muscles of his arms flexing as he holds himself above you. “And you’re taking forever to figure it out. But for now, you should wake. Qimir is waiting for you.”

Your dream world crumbles into a million blurred fragments as you’re pulled from slumber.

#bear writes #qimir x reader #the acolyte #star wars acolyte #acolyte fanfic #qimir #the stranger #star wars fanfiction #drag me under #dmu:8

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awkwardgamergirl · 10 months ago

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Best games for mental health&relax?

As someone who deals with anxiety and depression when I want to relax or am just feeling low and drained I’ll usually choose what others would consider “cozy games” because I don’t want any stress from shooters, strategy games, or anything that has a lot of stakes. I’ll do switch games for now since it’s my main console but I do have a 3ds, psvita, and my computer so I’ll make a list of those games later 💕

So my favorite games to relax to are:

~ stardew valley~ (you already knew this was coming) it’s just a really cute game with lots of options on how you can spend your time. You can farm, fish, forage, travel the mines, talk to the towns people, interact with love interests. There is just a lot to do in it and it has a really cozy small town cottagecore vibe that a lot of people find relaxing. Amazing replay value. I have like four different lives just so I can choose different farms, partners, things like that.

~ animal crossing~ (second most obvious answer) we all know animal crossing is a chill low stakes game that has a lot of similar elements I listed for stardew valley. You get to interact with cute little animals, decorate your house and character, forage, fish, find fossils, shop. It’s just a relaxing and positive game and is very popular for a reason. Idk about replay value because I really couldn’t imagine deleting my island tbh.

~ fashion dreamer~ if you like cute dress up type games this one is a decent lil game. It’s got lots of different styles for whatever your lil fashion heart desires and you basically walk around dressing up characters and they rate your outfits. It’s from the creators of style savvy and while it’s super cute I would wait for it to go on sale because it’s a bit overpriced imo. Style savvy is definitely the way to go if you have a ds/3ds. Still cute though. Don’t know about replay value because I’m fairly new to the game and haven’t come close to finishing or restarting anything.

~ unpacking~ this one is pretty cute and definitely a game that helps with anxiety. It’s a relaxed little puzzle game that unlocks parts of the story as you go along organizing each room to your home. You can try to solve the puzzles or you can just organize the furniture to your liking. Either way you want to play it’s super cute and relaxing and has some decent replay value after you complete it.

~calico~ super cute game where you run a cat cafe in a magical town with unique characters, little missions, and lots of cats you can pet and play with. There is magic, desserts, and you can ride giant cats like horses. Super soothing game. Character customization and decorating your cafe. The only drawback is it can get a bit glitchy but for the cuteness and the price I have no complaints. The music is really cute too. Not sure about replay value because my cafe is so cute I wouldn’t want to start over.

~coffee talk~ you run a coffee shop in the future and talk to all the incoming guests and learn their stories as you give them their coffee. This one is super relaxing and how I like to spend my evenings before bed if I want that extra cozy time to destress and relax. Cute art as well with different species and how they interact. I haven’t restarted yet but I’m sure there will be replay value with just how cozy and in depth the story is.

~rune factory 4 remastered~ this was originally a 3ds game they remastered for the switch and it’s so amazing that they did. One of my favorite 3ds games that is an offshoot of the harvest moon series with very pretty art, farming, cooking and crafting, romance, monster fighting, and just really fantastic story telling. Very cozy and hard not to get sucked into. Such a gorgeous game imo. Fantastic replay value.

~good pizza, great pizza~ you run a lil pizza shop and upgrade it to get better ingredients and equipment. Super cute chill game to pass the time and hard not to spend hours mindlessly making pizzas. Haven’t replayed it because I haven’t completed it but I imaging replaying it would be fun because you’re just making pizza and unlocking different ingredients. Relaxing game with cute art.

~monster prom~ cute game where you have to convince one of the monsters to go to prom with you. Funny writing, pretty art, and the ability to romance any gender while choosing your pronouns. It’s funny, the game play is question based, and it’s like little rounds of 15 mins and either you get them to go to prom or you get rejected. Then you get to try again. Replay value is obviously strong because I keep playing it no matter how often I’m rejected 🥲 being real though this game is funny, unique, and worth the price. I just have to beat the first one so I can try the second.

~what comes after~ you play as a character on a train of ghosts and you process the grief of passing to the afterlife and try to learn and console the other ghosts on the train who are passing. Pretty game that is mostly story based and worth a try. I haven’t finished this game so I’m not to sure on the replay value.

~little mouse’s encyclopedia~ a cute little game where you play as a little mouse exploring the outside and the dirt and you spend your time finding other little animals and bugs and plants and you read about them and what they are. Cute little educational game I purchased because I loved the art that ended up being super cute in the long run.

Honorable mentions:

- speed dating for ghosts (cute funny little game where you go on dates with ghosts. Short, sweet, and to the point. Decently priced for how quick you get through the game)

- cattails (you play as a cat that travels through its little territory you that you share with your other cat group. You gather little things, complete missions, scrap with rival cat gangs, and just walk around as a cat. Cute but a bit slow for my tastes.)

-rune factory 5 (don’t get me wrong, I love the fourth one and I’m sure the more I play this one I’ll learn to love it to. The gameplay is just set up a bit different and is a bit more similar to the harvest moon style than the fourth rune factory. The art is gorgeous though I was just hoping for more rune factory and less harvest moon when it came to the actual playing)

Games I’ve wanted and heard amazing things about:

The only reason I haven’t purchased and played these games yet is because games aren’t cheap and I need to finish the ones I’ve already purchased. That being said I’ve been looking at a lot of these for a long time and they are definitely going to make this list. I’m sure some of them would be ranked very high in the favorite games category as soon as I actually start playing them. Here’s the list:

* Spiritfairer

*Bear and breakfast

*Creepy tale

*Cozy grove

*Witchy life story

*Potion permit

*Hoa

*Littlewood

*Potion craft

*Gris

*When the past was around

*strange horticulture

*Lemon cake

*Wytchwood

*How to say goodbye

*Dreamlight valley

*Storyteller

*Cult of the lamb

*Little misfortune

*Night in the woods

* Sally face

And that’s it 🎉 sorry for such a long list but I wanted to include a bit of everything so you had lots to choose from. These are the games I play when I need a comfy happy place to go when life gets to be a bit too much to handle. I enjoyed making this list to be honest so there will most likely be more lists in the future. Maybe I’ll make a list of favorite otome games, anime/manga, kpop groups. Things like that. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading the list as I enjoyed making it 💖

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strawberryya · 1 year ago

Text

rainy nights

pairing: seungkwan x reader

synopsis: Is your fiancé ready to weather the storm if your worst nightmares were to be revealed? Maybe it's just the frigid weather seeping inside, unfurling all the anxieties you've locked away, or perhaps there's more to it.

word count: 4.6k

genre/cw: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fighting, cheating allegations, mentions of food and alcohol, a lot of insecurities in relationship

rating: sfw

a/n: autumn angst coming your way!! This is for the svthub fall-ing collab which u should check out for all the cozy fall vibes that are needed during these cold and dark months 🫶

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

You came home to find a sleepy Seungkwan, nodding off in front of a movie he seemed to have barely begun watching. Your fiance has been working hard these past few weeks. With his newest show airing and promoting things left and right every day, you knew how exhausted he must feel. He answered your greeting with a drowsy hello as you stepped into your shared flat. The living room looked so warm even without any sun shining through the windows, the darkness outside seemingly unable to get inside through the glass panes. Quickly shaking off your outerwear you immediately ran over to Seungkwan, and the warmth he and the blankets offered you.

“Long day?”

Seungkwan nodded in response, smiling a little as you buried yourself on the other end of the couch. It was chilly outside, and you were cold to the bone after walking home. Seungkwan jumped at your cold feet snuggling against him in search of warmth, “My god, how are you so cold?!”

“I didn’t realize it would be that cold outside today, so I wore my cute shoes…” you cried out, earning a sympathetic, but chastising look from Seungkwan.

Shaking his head, he told you what you already knew. “It’s fall, how could you not think it would be cold outside? What if you catch a cold?”

“I know, I’m the one freezing because of it…” You frowned and cuddled into the blankets even more.

Your fiance only hummed in response, having accepted your cold limbs resting against him and slowly but surely warming up. He looked very pretty tonight, his dark hair messily falling over his forehead. He had showered and changed into comfy clothes right away after coming home. You had meant to do the same, but the sting of getting into a hot shower right away after being in the freezing cold did not feel like a good idea once you had gotten inside. Cuddling was definitely the better option. And spending some time like this with Seungkwan was honestly exactly what you needed right now. It had been a while since you had been able to talk or spend time together since the both of you were working until late way too often. Resulting in the both of you being too tired to do much other than cuddle a bit or simply fall asleep.

“Did you have dinner?” you asked, patting his leg to get his attention. He was close to falling asleep again, the movie apparently not interesting enough to keep him awake for the hour that was left. “Mm, we had a team dinner,” Seungkwan mumbled.

“Ah, the entire crew? Where did you go? Did you eat something tasty?” you asked excitedly. Usually, Seungkwan would bring you take-away of whatever food he had eaten when going out, and you would of course do the same if you found it tasty. It was a little tradition you had created over the years. Since you both had a hard time going out to restaurants for actual dates during your busy weeks, it was easier to bring it home and share the experience once you were both home. With Seungkwan, even doggy bags had become something romantic to you.

“It was okay, the autumn-style stew they had was pretty good though, there's some in the fridge for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” he said and let the corners of his lips curl when he heard you exited shout, he loved making you happy through small things like these. “It was me, Eunji, and a few crew people since we were the only ones left when we stopped filming today. It was pretty fun, but I think I should’ve drank a bit less since I’m supposed to film tomorrow too…” he added, making your excitement dissolve as quickly as it had appeared.

You would’ve reassured him that it would be fine, he would do his best as usual even if he was slightly hughover. But all you could hear was her name. Eunji… Seungkwans university girlfriend. The model-looking actress who was working on the same show as Seungkwan this time. She was his first true love. She is gorgeous, kind, and worst of all: you even find her likable.

You aren’t a jealous person, you never have been. But when it came to her… you couldn’t help but feel inferior. It was hard to speak about that with Seungkwan, he wouldn’t see it how you do.

With a forced smile, in case his drowsy eyelids weren’t covering his sight as much as you thought, you pretended to be okay with what he had told you.

“Eunji… It’s been a while since you worked together.”

With a slow hum, Seungkwan agreed. It wasn’t often the two got to work together on shows nowadays. It had been more frequent right after university, their past relationship hidden from the public as a close friendship, and both of their careers within the acting industry taking off. This was also around the same time he had first met you…

“She says hi, by the way.”

“Oh, well, tell her I said hi back next time then…”

Seungkwan had stopped resting his head on his hand, instead letting his head fall back on the pillows leaned against the armrest. Warm light from the kitchen was lighting up his soft features, making your heart flutter when you thought about how someone like him had fallen for you. And then you felt that familiar, sinking feeling that bubbled up from within and whispered in your ear: maybe your love for him isn’t enough to keep him.

He held your heart in his hands, and you stood powerless beside him. Still waiting to see what he would do with it in the end. If he decided to win back Eunji’s heart, what would he need yours for?

You bit the nail of your thumb, shoulders tensing up as you watched your fiance nodding off yet again. Knowing would be better than not knowing, right? It would be less painful if you could see it coming. You were engaged, but if you didn’t get married before he broke your heart it would be easier for the both of you, wouldn’t it?

His lips sat in a perfect pout, pretty cheekbones making him a vision to look at, and still, you felt like he wasn’t truly yours to look at like this. Did he still think about what could’ve been with Eunji?

You couldn’t help but recall an autumn night much like this one at the beginning of your relationship. Back then you had stayed up talking late into the night. Both of you were tired, but not ready to put the threads of your conversation to rest just yet. You had told him about thoughts you had never shared with a partner before, things only your best friends knew about, things that were so deep-rooted within your thoughts that they affected your entire person. Insecurities, convictions, and the silly plans you saw in your future. He had understood you, at least you were convinced he had. You wanted to think that he still did.

Back then, when the leaves were turning copper, and golden sunshine tainted your relationship he had told you about Eunji. The girl he wasn’t sure he would ever fully get over – his first true love.

You had listened and felt like you understood what he had meant back then. You had your past relationships as well, with your fair share of guys you thought you would never get over until you had. She was just like that, time erases all, you were so convinced of that back then.

Now, you felt differently. During the years since that first autumn, you had fallen deeper in love with him than you had ever been with anyone before. You had realized that he was your first true love. And you weren’t his.

He was fast asleep on the couch next to you. You should let it all go, cuddle up next to him, and deal with your emotions after some sleep. But should do and do are very different things. Instead, you buffed Seungkwan’s leg yet again, his eyelids sliding open to look at you. “Mh?”

“Am I your rebound?” you asked softly, tears stuck in your throat.

Your question seemed to catch him off guard. It took a while for the words to register in his tired brain. “What do you mean by that? I don’t even know what the fuck you want me to answer to that.” He barked out as he squinted at you.

His tone was snappier than you had expected. All of your worst fears about your relationship swarmed your thoughts, and his tone made you feel like he had something to defend. Like your words had rung true, that you were just a rebound, even though he hadn’t said it straight up.

“I mean what I said, am I your rebound? Do you still think about her?”

“Have you lost it? I can’t mention Eunji to you without you getting jealous about it?” Seungkwan had stopped trying to adjust his tired eyes to watch your expression, too tired and tipsy to take your questions seriously. It wasn’t the first time you had become overly worried about the smallest thing. He didn’t pay it too much mind and usually made sure you got some peace of mind. But tonight he didn’t want to be the one to calm your mind – he wanted to sleep.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow instead? My head hurts.”

The tears your body was too tired to hold back came welling out, staining your cheeks. You knew it was stupid, but it wasn’t too far-fetched. People went back to their exes all the time! What made someone as amazing as Seungkwan want to stay with you instead of be with someone who was both a whole lot prettier than you and also famous in the same industry as him? She probably understood him better than you, maybe he was her true love as well. You kept making yourself more and more riled up, the longer Seungkwan kept his eyes closed, his arm now covering his tired eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me that you miss her? I know you do.”

Seungkwan sighed, he was getting annoyed with you now, you felt it. “You don’t know what I'm feeling. Why are you trying to start a fight?”

“I’m not trying to start a fight! I just want you to be honest with me! We don’t talk anymore and I just want to spend some time with you, and I know I can’t blame you for that, but I just… You don’t even seem to notice how much more time you spend with your ex compared to me, your freaking fiancee! So I just want to know now, before it’s too late if you even want to be with me.”

You were sobbing, desperation, anxiety, and weeks of exhaustion all washing over you at once. It was all too much, and you just wanted him to comfort you.

“Please, just stop overthinking, I really don’t know where you got all that from… let’s just go to bed and we can try and fix all that tomorrow. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Deal?” You sobbed. “Am I something you have to deal with? Why are you being mean? I just want to know who you even love…”

“My god, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m so tired, I really cannot do this right now.” Seungkwan groaned, throwing the blankets off his body and walking off towards the bedroom. You didn’t say anything when he slammed the bathroom door a bit too harshly, quiet rage simmering inside of you. He seemed like he would be okay even if you were to walk out right at that moment, he didn’t even seem to care about your tears or your feelings one bit. Would he have cared if you were Eunji?

“Fine!” You yelled towards the closed doors separating you from your fiancé. “I won’t bother you then!”

Quickly you shoved your feet back into your shoes, throwing your jacket on, and slamming the door behind you when you left. It was childish, you knew it was. You wiped at your tears, the wind helping you dry off a little, and the cold making you question if you shouldn’t go back instead.

But going back wouldn’t solve anything. Staying away for now was best for everyone. You needed time to cool off, time to somehow talk yourself down, and reason with your anxieties enough to go back without crying and asking stupid questions again.

You could call someone, sleep somewhere else, and try again tomorrow night after work. Before you could even finish making up a plan like that you realized that you had left your phone at home. You hadn’t brought anything but the few things already in your jacket pockets. Under a streetlamp you checked what you had: gum wrappers, a spare charger, and your wallet. At least that would be useful…

You weren’t sure you wanted to talk about it yet anyhow, and it was too late to barge into someone’s place unannounced. Nevertheless, you would need to find someplace warm soon, the autumn wind blowing up golden leaves around you was already biting at your skin. You decided running to the bus stop and heading further into the city would be the best idea right now, hoping to find some restaurant that would stay open even this late on a weekday. The cold had almost made you forget about why you had even gone out, but the wound of his distant words was still fresh, and your heart ached even as you ran towards the bus.

Seungkwan heard the door slamming shut behind you, it echoed through the house.

“Where are they even going?” he grumbled to himself.

He could’ve gone after you, but he wasn’t ready to face you yet, he couldn’t stop being mad about the whole conversation. He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to forget that you had doubted him, that you had cried because of him. To Seungkwan it wasn’t even a possibility that he would ever get back together with Eunji, she was a part of his past, and now a colleague. Nothing more. He thought you knew that.

It was impossible to stop thinking about the way you had sounded so hurt, so painfully weak while you asked who you were to him. The annoyance and anger over how you had started a fight over nothing was slowly but surely morphing into worry the longer he thought about it.

His head throbbed as he tossed and turned in bed. He still hadn’t been able to fall asleep, his mind and body too busy trying to listen to the door opening, and the faint sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor. It was always easier to fall asleep when you were beside him. For hours he tried to get his mind to let go and give him some rest before you would come home and he would try and make things right.

He wasn’t blameless, after all. If you thought he was able to do something like that he was partially responsible, he thought as he stared into the darkness surrounding him. Should he try calling you? If he knew where you were, even if you didn’t come back home tonight, maybe he could get some sleep and apologize for his response. He had been tired, but he knew he couldn’t blame that entirely. You were tired too. It had been a long week, and he didn’t even welcome you home like he wanted to.

Picking up his phone he was started by the bright blue light that hit his sleepy eyes. He dialed your number, hoping that you would at least pick up.

The beeps as he waited for you to pick up sounded throughout the empty bedroom, but a faint buzzing sound traveling from somewhere further away was distinguishable after a while. Were you still home? Had you never left? He ran up before he could think twice about what to say if you were sitting out there after all this time.

You weren’t there though, your phone ringing alone on the counter where you had left it along with your house keys and bag. “Shit, she ran out without bringing anything?”

Seungkwan’s hand brushed through his hair, head hurting as he felt the anxious thoughts about where you could have gone and if you were safe and warm arise in his mind. What if you were outside freezing in the cold, refusing to come home because of him and his mean response? He thought about running out to find you again. But it had been hours since you left. There was no way he would be able to find you wandering the streets at this hour. He pulled open the front door, the chilly autumn breeze giving him goosebumps. The leaves were wet and stuck to the shining asphalt outside. Rain drizzled and the wind forced the tiny drops inside. He quickly shut the door again, leaving it unlocked in case you came back without him noticing. You didn’t have your keys after all.

Now he felt even worse. Had he done enough to reassure you that he was as madly in love with you as he felt he was? What had made you doubt him? When would you come back? It was overwhelming, his mind spun, and he had no control over himself anymore.

Seungkwan decided that it was best to not spiral too far before he knew that you were safe. He called everyone he could think of. Your parents, your best friends, and even some acquaintances who lived close by. Only a few picked up, it was past midnight on a workweek after all. The few who did were more confused than anything. Nobody had seen or heard from you, and why was he calling this late at night looking for you? Had something happened? He didn’t know how to answer the questions they all asked. Once he knew that you weren’t there he simply hurried to apologize for disturbing you so late before hanging up and trying the next person.

But you weren’t anywhere. Nobody had seen you. Nobody had heard from you. Which wasn’t strange, since you had left your phone behind. Seungkwan held his face in his palms, staring at his list of contacts, there was nowhere else you could’ve gone. He had called everyone he could think of. You might have been with one of the people who hadn’t picked up, of course. He tried to tell himself that you were safe and warm, asleep at a friend’s house. He imagined your tears dried, and your resting figure under a blanket. Safe from the storm that was continuing to pick up outside.

“She’s ok, I know she is,” Seungkwan mumbled to himself, hands rubbing against his features, legs unable to stay still where he sat at the kitchen counter. Hoping that someone would call back and tell him that he could relax for even a couple of hours.

He slanted over to the couch. Once again he tried sleeping but woke up every twenty minutes, the weakest sounds of wind outside waking him where he lay, your next to his on the coffee table. It had been left behind just like he had. You had just fucking left. And now you were somewhere out in the cold or at some friend’s house seething about what a dick he was. And he was. But couldn’t you have stayed at home and let him know how much of a dick he had been instead of leaving him all alone?

As he dozed off he could hear your laughter, he remembered it so clearly he almost thought you had come home. It wasn’t real, he could recall the day when you had been laughing just like that. A couple of years ago, on an autumn day much like today, you had moved in together, into this house. You had been so excited, and he had never felt so fond of someone as he had that day. Seungkwan had always wondered what it would feel to fall in love with someone over and over again, but with you, he had found out. Every day he found a new thing about you that drove him mad. The way you pouted, when you sang in the shower, how you would kiss him goodbye even if he was sleepy and had morning breath. It all made his heart beat an extra beat, and always put a smile on his lips. You had rolled out the carpet beneath the couch he was on right now together. You had been adamant about making sure that he got two dozen kisses before you got up from the floor to continue unpacking, leaving him chuckling on the new carpet, looking up after you as you made the house into your home.

He had been so happy back then, and you had a magic about you that could make him happy still.

And somehow, he had made you doubt how much he loved you. He didn’t know how, but recalling your tears as he ignored your worries last night made his heartache. A silent tear fell from his eye, waking him from his sleepless dreams.

That first night when you had begun living your lives together in this house you had baked an apple pie. You said that the house needed to be told that someone was being loved inside of it again. Apparently, a house found out that love was present through the scent of freshly baked pies. It had made him laugh back then, but he had loved that pie. The memory gave him an idea.

Because, if he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he might as well do something other than sit around worrying all night.

It took him a while to follow the recipe in your favorite cookbook, he wanted to get everything just right. Carefully peeled apples, sliced and covered in butter, sugar, some flour, and a lot of cinnamon were placed gently in a pan. He had some trouble getting teh dough perfect, but after a second try, he managed to cover the filling with a thin layer of what soon became a flaky crust, a heart visible from the tiny cuts on top decorating it.

He stared at the pie from across the kitchen floor the entire time it baked. A hundred different ways to apologize, argue back, and confess his undying love swirling around in his mind until the buzzer went off.

When the pie stood on the rack to cool off, and the oven was turned off, Seungkwan sank down on the floor yet again. His back was against the cupboards, and his eyelids were heavy with sleepiness. He let it wash over him this time, knocking him out swiftly, and leaving him sleeping sitting up where he was.

The rain had soaked your hair on the short run from to and from the bus. The restaurant had closed, and one of the servers had gently woken you up from your agitated sleep. You had been a bit embarrassed about having fallen asleep and leaned against your table like that, apologizing for being a nuisance to the staff while quickly paying and running out into the rainy night.

You wanted to go home and sleep in your bed, next to Seungkwan. There hadn’t been much of a choice at that point. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the last shop had closed for the night. Home was the only place for you right now.

The door blew open faster than you had intended for it to, the wind grabbing ahold of it as you tried to escape the cold rain. Inside it was warm, and a sweet scent filled the space, confusing you more than anything had that night. You dropped your wet jacket on a chair, mind trying to tell you to go dry off your hair, but feet dragging you towards the kitchen, too curious about what could’ve created the delicious smell of apples, cinnamon, and buttery dough.

In the dim light from the kitchen counter lights, you found Seungkwan. Asleep on the kitchen floor, with tear-stained cheeks, and flour on his clothes and in his hair. You didn’t know how he had been able to make such a mess. You had only been gone a couple of hours.

He made you afraid of everything that could take him away from you, and yet you couldn’t help but love him.

You looked at the picture-perfect pie on the counter and knew you would never be able to leave him. He was your person, he had been your person since the day you had first met during that rainy fall, and he would continue to be your person until the day you were no longer on this earth.

You bent down to him, brushing away some flour from his soft cheek. Reddened eyes blinked back at you, seemingly not quite sure if they were awake or still off in dreamland. Seungkwan’s arms wrapped around you quickly once he knew with certainty that you had come back for real. You embraced him back, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You pulled back from him, whispering “I’m sorry,” and getting an equally apologetic look back from your fiancé.

”I have been yours for years, please believe me when I tell you that I can’t imagine a future where you are not the only person I love.” He whispered, wiping away a water drop from the side of your face gently. You nodded, you did believe him, most days. But you felt like you needed to explain yourself, explain why you couldn’t escape your doubts about how long you would get to keep him to yourself.

”I wouldn’t be able to do the same.”

”What?” Seungkwan’s thumb stopped moving on your cheek, confusion visible on his face.

You took a deep breath. ”I wouldn’t be able to move on with someone else if we broke up, because you’re my first true love… and she’s yours. So how can I believe you?”

He fell silent. He remembered the words he had used that first autumn with you. ”My first true love.” Had you been hung up on Eunji all these years simply because of those words? He had thought you were only jealous of her or didn’t trust him enough. But it was his fault, to begin with-

He hadn’t reassured you enough, he saw that now.

”Eunji was my first love, that’s true.” He nodded slowly. When his warm hands slid up to hold your cold cheeks you could smell cinnamon on his skin. ”But I want you to be my last true love.”

Tears fell from your eyes, ”Couldn’t you have said that earlier?” You sobbed out, ”I drank way too much for a work night…”

This made Seungkwan chuckle. His forehead pressed against yours as you both cried silent tears on the kitchen floor. ”I thought you knew.”

You hugged him tighter, folding yourself into his warmth and his overwhelming love. ”I’ll make sure to tell you every single day from now on,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt angst #svt imagines #svt scenarios

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dancingtotuyo · 1 year ago

Text

3. pick up your clothes and curl your toes

Woman | Joel Miller

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into a routine.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (Reader is 42, Joel is 56). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: swearing, talks of & references to grief, death (child and spouse), and suicide. Anxiety. Reader has a panic attack. consumption of alcohol. Angst. Hurt. Comfort. SMUT. Explicit sex (P in V). Unprotected sex. Oral Sex (F receiving). Let me know if I missed anything.

Note: THANK YOU TO MY BEAUTIFUL BETA READERS @planet-marz1 @pamasaur & @kajashe

Words: 8926

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.

Joel Miller is going to hell in a handbasket. He already was, but this is the seal on the envelope, the pretty red ribbon tied neatly around it. He felt relieved that your husband is dead. What kind of person feels relief over someone’s misfortune? Their grief? A bad one. A person headed straight for the gates of hell.

He lets out a huff of air, staring at the spinning ceiling fan. He tries not to think of you across the street, laying in bed in that fucking matching pajama set, but with most things the harder you try not to think of them, the more it’s at the forefront of your mind. The picture of your legs in those shorts jumps to his mind. He remembers those fleeting charged moments from tonight. Desire stirs in his gut drifting downward.

He groans, flipping onto his stomach. He buries his head in the twenty-something-year-old pillow as he takes deep steadying breaths. He won’t do this. It can’t happen. You’re a friend. A connection to the past. A connection to his Sarah. He’s not gonna fuck that up.

He falls asleep definitely not thinking of you and that fucking pajama set. Pictures of you definitely don’t invade his dreams. Joel Miller can only see you as a friend, and friends don’t do the things he does to you behind his eyelids.

The next evening, Joel finds himself hardly waiting on his steps, worried he missed you until you step out tonight in jeans and a sweater. For that, he’s all too grateful. A smile stretches across your face. He stands his lips tipping upward as he meets you in the middle of the road once again.

“Howdy, neighbor,” Joel says.

You push back the small shiver that runs down your spine. You chalk it up to the lower temperatures. “Look at you, adjusting to the Jackson way of life.”

“Learnin from the best, Sweetheart.”

The chills hit again and you chalk it up to the chill. Spring is breaking through, but winter still clings to the darkening air. You settle in your route. The crunch of Joel’s steps is familiar next to you, comforting even in the silence between the two of you.

It’s Joel who speaks first tonight. “It’s weird,” he says. He’s more eager to talk tonight. “Being here- safe. I keep expectin’ raiders to ride in or infected to pop out.” He looks over at a small cluster of trees.

“It takes a long time.” You watch the sun creep down, closing the gap between it and the mountain tops. “I’m not sure when it happened but one morning I just realized I’d stopped looking over my shoulder or listening for footsteps.”

“It happens though?” He asks. You catch a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It barely peeks through the weariness he wears like a badge.

“Eventually.”

“Not that I ever thought it was an option, but I’m not sure I wanted to find peace- to be still like this again.”

You cock your head to the side, but you don’t have to shed a word for him to tell you more.

“Spending life on the run was easy. Always lookin’ toward the next haul, the next run. Didn’t leave any time for thinking.”

You nod. You understand from the other side. You lived alone for years, wild, haunted by your friends, rattling around an empty house with only your thoughts and memories. Somehow, you’d found peace here, a family even.

“What about now?” You ask.

On good days, you can push back the when of it all. When will the world take another person from you in a new way crueler than the last? When will your son’s innocence be stripped away? When will it be you who’s taken? On the bad days, you shut yourself in your room, only to be dragged out by Carter’s small voice or Maria cooking in your kitchen. Today is an especially good day.

Joel studies the horizon. He takes in a hawk riding the air currents. It all mingles together in his chest: the grief, the joy, the pain, the acceptance. It’s hard to put words to it. “It still hurts. Can’t even say it hurts less… but I don’t fight it anymore. I think making room for someone else helped.”

You bite your lip. A pang shoots through your heart. You fight to push the door to your heart closed. You can allow him to exist in your life, but anything more than neighbors is too much. You think you feel the door latch, but you don’t catch Joel’s foot wedged in the door jam.

“How did you and Ellie cross paths?”

Joel spends the rest of your walk recounting his and Ellie’s adventures across the United States. You find yourself hanging on every description. You didn’t travel a lot before the world ended. Your parents had been die-hard Texans. You weren’t sure your dad had left state lines before meeting your mom. There were the yearly trips to your grandparents' house in the mountains surrounding Jackson, one trip to Disney World in 8th grade, and you’d gone to Mexico for spring break your junior year of college. That encapsulated your traveling days.

After Joel tells you about Silver Lake, he stops in his tracks. You look back at him. He’s staring at the darkening horizon again. His eyes gloss over. “When things like that happen- I find myself relieved that she’s not here- that she doesn’t have to go through it- do all the shit we do.”

You suck in a breath. In some ways you understand it. As a parent who willingly brought a child into this world, you often wonder if it was the right choice or just a selfish one. You nod.

“And then I feel guilty all over again. Because I would give anything to have her next to me, and see her smile. I mean, what kind of parent is relieved their child isn’t alive?”

You give the words a minute to roll through your head. You’re not sure of the best words because there really are none, but you pull from your own experience.

“I think that’s the reality of being a parent in this world. You feel guilty if they’re here because the world is fucked up, but you feel guilty if you’re relieved they’re not.”

Joel makes eye contact with you. “Bein’ around you makes me feel closer to her.”

Joel is not sure where the confession comes from. He barely talked to you before last night and hasn’t seen your face in 20 years, yet the words just slip out. Something in him says you’re safe and he thinks maybe, he might just have room for you too. The air between you charges like it did the night before.

It sends a hum of electricity through your veins. It’s one you recognize all too well. It feels good and exciting, the thrum of desire, but it’s dangerous. It’s something you cannot afford. You look away, breaking the connection, but mellowing currents still wrack over your body in waves.

“You raised a really great kid, Joel.” You force a smile. “and the world fucking sucks.” You kick at the dirt as everyone’s faces flash behind your eyes.

“You helped.”

Your head snaps back up, confusion on your brow. “I doubt that.”

“It’s true.” The memories flood to the surface- the ones you forget exist in the depths of your mind drowned by years of survival and trauma. “You helped her with all that stuff I was too awkward to boys, her period, shopping for her 7th grade banquet. I would’ve sent her in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.”

“I don’t think Sarah would’ve let you do that.” You manage a laugh. You appreciate Joel’s attempts to make you feel better even when he’s hurting. There’s a beauty to the way sadness and laughter coexist in the space the two of you create.

Joel shrugs. “I’m just saying, you helped. A lot. Even if you don’t realize it.”

“You should give yourself more credit.”

“So should you,” he says, eyebrows raising.

You fight against the smile that wants to sprout on your face. He’s just as stubborn as you remember and probably more.

As your walk draws to an end, you find yourself searching for anything to draw it out. You watch him walk up his porch steps, desperate to keep him in the street with you but his door shuts before you find the words.

Joel joins you the next night and the night after that, and the night after that it rains. You catch the disappointment, trying to let it go. Carter won’t settle, too intent on watching the rain hit the window. After 30 minutes, you give up, pulling a light sweatshirt over his head.

“You wanna sit out on the porch?”

Carter nods and you kiss his forehead. You see the sleepiness in his eyes, but you don’t have the energy to force him to sleep tonight. He grabs his two toy cars following behind you. You pull the blanket off the couch, opening the front door.

“Oh my god.” You jump, heart rate spiking for a second. Carter runs into the back of your legs, promptly falling to his bottom.

Joel Miller stands in front of you with a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You turn around, picking your toddler off the floor. “You just hanging around on stranger’s porches now?” A grin starts to crowd the edges of your smile.

“I’d hardly call you a stranger, Sweetheart.” Joel grins.

That familiar feeling begins to seep through your chest, making you feel like a college student and not a woman in her 40s. Before it can completely overtake you, you push it down, clearing your throat.

“I don’t think you’ve gotten the chance to meet Carter yet.” You nod toward your son.

Carter waves. “Hi.”

Joel smiles back at him. “Nice to meet you, little man.”

Carter holds out his toy cars for Joel to admire. Joel’s eyes glance over the faded and chipped paint of the old Hotwheels. “Those are very nice.”

Carter looks toward you with a big grin. He’s a kid of few words but big expressions. You smile back with a nod and he slides out of your arms.

“He wouldn’t go to sleep so we came out to watch the rain.” You hesitate a minute, but the pull of Joel’s familiarity wins out. “You’re welcome to join us. The porch swing is a little rickety, but it does the trick.”

“I was hoping you’d want some company.” Joel pulls a bottle of dark liquor from under his arm. You notice his rain-damp hair and shoulders for the first time. A few droplets slide down his curls.

“You getting used to me, Joel Miller?”

“You could say that.” He cocks his head to the side, smirk playing on his lips.

You turn your head so he doesn’t catch your own grin, but he does anyway. Spreading the blanket on the porch for Carter to play on, you disappear inside grabbing a couple of glasses.

When you come back, Joel is on his hands and knees with Carter, both making race car noises with their lips. It knocks the wind from you, and you brace against the door frame. You’d imagined this lost moment a thousand times. Sometimes you swore you could see Gabe sitting on the floor with Carter, the proudest smile on his face, but this is real and it’s not Gabe.

Carter makes a screeching noise, learning them from some racing movie they showed a few weeks ago, crashing his car into Joel’s. Joel makes his cart flip over and combust into flames. Carter laughs. There’s a piece of your heart that seems to mend, and another that seems to break. Gabe feels further away, a more distant past. Yet, you’re focused on what’s in front of you.

When Joel catches you watching, he smiles, says something to Carter, and rises to his feet. It feels like a scene from a movie where you don’t hear anything, but the single look is the most significant part.

Joel says something, taking the glasses from your hands. His lips move but you don’t hear him. His back is turned before you realize it, shaking your head to wake up your senses. “Sorry- what did you say?”

Joel chuckles, pouring a couple of fingers of whiskey into each glass. He hands one to you. “I said, I’m getting too old to get on the ground like that.”

You accept the glass, letting the liquid warm you. This feels so easy, too easy. It sends warning bells through your head, but you don’t want to deal with them. They're too easy to push away in Joel’s familiar presence.

“You didn’t have to.” You move to the end of your porch, easing onto the swing.

Joel’s eyes inspect the old swing with years of training before he decides it will hold for one night and settles next to you. “Nah- it was fun. I haven’t played cars in a long time.”

You take a sip of the whiskey to hide your grin.

“He doesn’t look a thing like you.” Joel teases.

“Spitting image of his father.” You laugh. “Gabe always said his genetics would win out. I can only imagine the gloating I would’ve heard from him.”

“He never knew him?”

You shake your head. “Gabe was infected while out on patrol when I was 7 months pregnant.”

You leave it at that. You don’t expound on one of the darkest times of your life, and Joel doesn’t ask. He’s being trained for patrol now. He knows a bite earns you a bullet in the head and your body burnt to a crisp. You sip from the glass, taking a little too much whiskey. It burns away the tears.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Joel says. You turn to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Survive out here all those years alone. I wouldn’t have made it.”

“You did.”

Joel shakes his head. “No, I had Tommy and some friends along the way. And that almo- it wasn’t enough.”

He turns away subconsciously presenting his profile. You catch the scar on his temple. You’d never given it much stock until now. It hits you like a brick to the chest. Your fingers drift toward it, brushing over the old wound.

“After Sarah died- I didn’t see much point in going on.” His eyes land on yours again. Your fingers stay. “I flinched when I pulled the trigger. Missed”

He searches your eyes for judgment but finds none. He’s certain all he finds is understanding, a silent assurance that you know that hopeless feeling too.

Your fingers edge toward his hairline. The rain seems to fall heavier around you, creating a mist under the overhang, but it all seems far away with Joel Miller right in front of you. You’re both still, scared to spook the other, waiting for a sign you refuse to give yourself.

“Joel!” Clumsy footsteps clamber up the wooden steps to your home. Ellie appears with a lopsided grin and soaked hair. “You’ll never guess what I traded for, morherfucker.”

The tension snaps away until nothing. The space on the porch swing is seemingly greater than ever.

Joel raises an eyebrow at her, arms crossed over his chest.

Carter looks up at the intruder, taking stock before returning his attention to his cars.

“Oh, what? Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” you say, possibly too fast. You don’t leave time to consider what was potentially interrupted. You latch on to Ellie’s joy instead. “What did you get?” You ease back, casting Joel a teasing look. He doesn’t look your way this time.

“I knew I liked you, Nurse… er- Lady.”

Joel opens his mouth to supply your name but you beat him to it. “That’s me, Nurse Lady.”

Carter points at you. “Mommy.”

Ellie looks you dead in the eye. “I’m not calling you that.”

You laugh.

“What did you get, Ellie?” Joel asks, a little more give in his frame than a few seconds ago.

Ellie pulls a big, atlas-looking book from under her damp sweatshirt. “It’s pictures of space! Ones I haven’t seen before!”

“Space?” Carter’s head shoots up and a smile spreads across your face.

“Yeah!” Ellie exclaims, opening the book toward him. “See! Isn’t it cool?”

Carter ventures toward the new person carrying a book of great interest to him. “You like space too?”

He nods, watching with wide eyes for a few more pages, and then grabs Ellie’s hand, pulling her toward his blanket. “Sit.”

She listens and Carter climbs into her lap. “More.”

Ellie laughs. “Sure thing, bud.”

You go to tell Ellie that she doesn’t have to listen to the two-year-old. She can take her book home and enjoy it in peace, but you stop yourself. Something tells you that Ellie wouldn’t stay if she didn’t want to. She reads the words in the book with the same fascination that shines in Carter's young eyes until he falls asleep.

Joel stays next to you, the swing creaking rhythmically, the moment hidden away from the rest of Jackson by the cover of rain and a setting sun.

You and Joel go back to walking the next evening.

A couple of days later, Maria sits at your kitchen table when you come in from your walk with Joel. A steaming cup of tea sits in front of her and another caddy corner from her. You furrow your brow. The last time she’d greeted you with tea was when she told you she was pregnant. This welcome was usually reserved for serious conversations.

“Carter wake up?” You slide into the chair, taking the mug into your hands.

“No, just wanted to talk to you. It’s been a couple of days.” She eases back, hand resting atop her swollen stomach.

“I saw you at the clinic this morning.” You raise an eyebrow.

Now 7 months pregnant, you’ve monitored Maria and the baby closely. Tommy and Maria are so excited. You see it in their eyes every time it comes up. You’re trying your hardest not to let your fears cloud it, but you won’t be able to make it if something happens to Maria.

“We haven’t really talked though. Not since Sunday at dinner and Tommy has the guys over for Poker tonight.”

“You miss me after 3 days? I thought I was the codependent one.” You smile up at her with a laugh.

Gabe would have called it a sparkly smile. Maria clocks it immediately, and it stays, lingering across your features. She gasps. She’s seen nothing but glimpses and flickers of it since his death and now here it is on full display.

“Did I grow a third head or something?”

“No, just haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

“Like what?”

“Happy, Smiling.” Maria tilts her head to the side. “I thought I was imagining it this morning. Tommy mentioned it too.��

“I smile.”

“Not the sparkly kind.”

You pause, heart clenching at the thought. You know it’s what Gabe would have wanted. He loved your sparkly smile- given it its name. It feels like it should feel wrong for someone else to bring that out of you, but it doesn’t. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy.

“This have anything to do with your new walking partner?” Maria says over the lip of her mug.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You feign innocence, looking out the window. Joel’s porch light glows across the road. Your wedding band is cool against your fingertips as you twist it. A smile pushes against the borders of your lips.

“You act like your route doesn’t cut directly through town and past everyone’s houses 3 times.”

“We just walk together, Maria.”

She raises a suggestive eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. “Just walking.”

“More than walking is okay too.”

You cross your arms. “I thought you didn’t like Joel. It was all I heard about after he came through the first time.”

“He’s my brother-in-law. I have to try.” Maria bites her lip. “And he grows on you.”

You sigh trying to push away the thoughts that crowd your restless mind. Your attachment to him is beginning to feel inevitable like you never stood a chance because it had always been there. A holdover from before. It reminds you of the way you and Tommy bonded when he came to Jackson, that invisible tug from a former life tying you together, but there is something different with Joel. The all-encompassing crush from your early ears creeps up like a blush. You won’t say it lingered, but you know something is forming now as much as you try to ignore it.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“This,” you motion around you. “Building a life with someone just for the world to rip it all away.”

“That’s not-“

“Not what, Maria? You know it will happen.”

“Might not.”

“Might happen tomorrow.” You square your shoulders. Joel goes on patrol for the first time tomorrow. It’s a short shift for him to get the lay of the land, but so was Gabe’s. you’re terrified, and you’re terrified to admit you’re terrified.

She stares into your eyes with a still determination searching for any cracks to slip through as your impenetrable walls rise back up. All evidence of the sparkly smile is gone, erased from your face. Maria sighs, slowly rising to her feet, her cup of tea dried up.

The two of you say nothing as she moves about your kitchen with easy familiarity. She’s moving slower these days and for good reason. It eases your anxiety to know that she’s listening to you in that department.

She sets her cleaned mug on the dish wrack, drying her hands with a towel. You sip on your tea letting it warm you from within. It does nothing to ease your racing mind.

Maria’s firm, caring touch lands on your shoulder, drawing your attention up toward her. You know she can see it behind your eyes. It’s that same wild look she saw in you when she met you. You can only hold her gaze for so long until you have to look away. She can see too much in you.

Maria squeezes your shoulder. Her hands slide around your shoulders as she pulls your reluctant frame closer to her. She’s warm and comforting like a well-worn sweater. When her warm breath hits your temple followed by the soft kiss of a concerned parent or older sibling, you let your eyes flutter shut and inhale deeply. Your body relaxes as your sympathetic nervous system accepts the easy pressure of her embrace and your mind seems a little more quiet. You lean to the side, temple pressed to your best friend’s forehead.

“I’ll see you at Sunday Dinner,” Maria says. She’s using her soothing mom voice, and it works.

“Okay.”

She gives one more squeeze before releasing you. Your hands wrap back around the mug, searching for the warmth you lost.

Maria grabs her coat. “Oh, I invited Joel and Ellie too.”

You snap your head around. Maria wears a knowing grin but gives you a shrug. “They’re family now.”

You roll your eyes. Maria’s laugh is the last thing you hear before the front door clicks behind her. Silence falls over your home. When a tear falls from your eye, you swipe it away, stuffing down all the feelings rising to the surface.

The next evening, Joel isn’t on his porch when you come out. The worry you’ve pushed down all day bubbles over before you can stop it. Your heart beats in your ears as you stare at Joel’s front door, hoping, praying it opens. In the minutes you watch for him, you beg the world for a sign that Joel is okay, nothing happens. The house is still with no signs of life.

Anticipation melts to dread. They haven’t gotten back yet. That can only mean bad things. The same resolve hits you over and over. You can’t let this happen, not again. Stepping into the street, you try to go on as usual. Same path. Same pace, but the further you get from his front porch, the more you fight against the tug pulling you toward it- toward him. It wraps tight up your ankle like a vine. You think you can snap it with enough force and distance.

Instead, it climbs your leg further, piercing through your stomach. It constricts around your lungs like a snake and its branches encircle your heart. Your breathing quickens and shortens until you can’t see more than 2 feet in front of you. You can’t do this. Can’t let this happen. Your fingers bite into a tree as you stumble forward, grasping for stability. Bark digs under your fingernails. A sob releases from your throat, the one that sounds otherworldly but you’re all too familiar with, and you realize it’s tears that blind you because you refuse to give the world another person to tear from your arms, yet you fear you already have.

A warm hand lands on your back. You whip around in a fury of tears and ragged breathing. He recognizes it instantly. It’s the same look he used to see every time he looked in the mirror. He sucks in a breath and takes a step back.

You think the space will make it easier to breathe, but the panic sets in deeper. You don’t want him to go. It’s not fair. You thought you were stronger, but it only took days for Joel Miller to demolish the walls you worked so desperately to build. He had pinpointed the weakness in them as if he’d built them himself and came in swinging.

Your hand shoots out, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. You’re a dear in the headlights, unsure if you should flee for your safety or stay and get hit by what’s coming.

Joel’s hand slowly covers yours. It’s warm. It settles your breathing. His heart beats under your palm a little faster than his calm demeanor lets on.

You sniff back the tears. You realize you were so focused on the traps underfoot that you didn’t realize you walked right into the mouth of one from the very beginning. The moment you leaned into Joel’s familiarity, it snapped shut with no way out. Joel cautiously reaches out, swiping away the tears on one cheek. When you don’t shy away from his touch, he wipes away the others.

It’s a spacious trap. There’s room to roam around. You don’t feel confined, and Joel is in it with you.

“I don’t have to walk with ya tonight.” His voice is quiet. His eyes are soft and understanding. “I understand if you need some space.”

Despite offering you space, he squeezes your hand tighter and leans in, and godamnit, you like it.

“No.” You shake your head. “Stay. I like the company.”

His brow furrows. “You sure, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You nod. His shirt eases back around his chest now crinkled from your grip, but your hand stays. “Believe it or not, I enjoy having you around.”

You force a smile.

“Yeah…” He smiles softly. “Me too.” He takes a step backward. You ignore the soft pang in your chest at the increased distance.

You and Joel settle back into the path as you have the past two nights, but he’s closer tonight. His shoulder brushes yours every so often. He keeps the conversation light. He doesn’t ask about your anxiety attack.

At the end of your walk, Joel’s arm slides around your waist pulling you against his chest. Your breath catches as his other hand slides across your shoulder blades leaving a trail of fire behind it, landing at the base of your skull. He comes over you like a wave, heavy and disorienting when it hits but peaceful once it settles. Your eyes close, resting your head against his chest.

His fingers knead slowly at your skull, releasing built-up tension. Sparks ignite low in your belly. You don’t try to extinguish them this time.

“Sleep well, Sweetheart.”

You swear you feel his lips on your forehead, but he’s gone before you have time to consider it further, back behind his door leaving you to wrestle with that moment all night.

On Thursday morning, Joel works in the barn fixing the big swinging door when Tommy strides in. Joel is so focused on his craft, the long-forgotten feel of wood beneath his touch that he doesn’t catch the grin etched on his younger brother’s face.

“What’s going on, big brother?” Tommy says with a prying tone.

“Can you hand me that hammer?” Joel says, sweat beading his forehead.

Tommy chuckles, handing it to Joel.

Joel turns an eye toward him. “You’re in a good mood.”

“A little birdie told me something.”

Joel lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t have time for Tommy’s antics. There’s a door to fix and he knows his brother gets more joy drawing things out. Joel does not. “What?”

“Oh come on- you have to guess.”

“Tommy, since when have I played along with your games?”

Tommy sighs. “Buzz kill.”

Joel chuckles.

“Rumor has it, you’ve been walking around with a certain babysitter.”

Joel’s face falls stoic. “She’s not the babysitter anymore.” He sets down the tools with a sigh “What’s it to you?”

“Oh come on, Joel. Is that why she’s been smiling so much lately? You giving her a reason to smile?” Tommy grins.

Joel looks at Tommy through the corner of his eye. “You askin’ me if I’m fucking your dead buddy’s widow?”

It flashes across his face, the pain of losing someone so close before his smile is back in place. Joel doesn’t have time to feel bad for it.

“Not to sound crass, but he’d be happy if you were.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Joel lets the tool drop to the ground, giving in to Tommy.

Tommy sighs. “When I came to Jackson, she smiled all the time. Reminded me of when we’d get back from a job and she and Sarah were up to no good.” Joel’s nods. He’d felt the same pull toward you. “Gabe- he kept her smiling. I know we’ve all been through some dark shit, but she went at it alone. Since his death, her smiles have been few and far between ‘til now. He didn’t want her to go back to how she was before. Told Maria that much.”

“Maria?”

“Yeah, they were out on patrol together when he got infected.”

Hit stomach hit the ground. If Maria was with Gabe when- “Shit,” Joel breathes. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah…” Tommy says but doesn’t let the silence linger. Gabe’s demise is still a sore subject for him. “Gabe, all he wanted was for her to be happy, for her to smile. You’re doing that, and it’s a big deal.”

Joel hopes his brother doesn’t catch the stutter in his breathing, the way his thoughts drift back to you. He doesn’t need anyone’s permission. You’re grown adults, but it’s there. Gabe wanted you to be happy- they all want you to be happy and somehow, he’s one of the people that does that. Tommy’s not judging him at the possibility of being interested in a woman 13 years his junior. If anything, he’s encouraging it. Joel feels easier and lighter. In it all, he realizes just how much he wants you.

The following evening, Joel is almost embarrassed at how quickly he clocks the missing gold band on your left knuckle. His mind races with possibilities. He knows you don’t wear it when you work at the clinic, but he hasn’t seen you without it outside of the clinic. Granted, the only time he’s noticed was on your walks. Did you forget it? His heart leaps a little. Did you do it on purpose? And you’re wearing those damn matching pajamas again. The same ones that got him here in the first place.

There’s something in the air tonight. The hairs on his arms stand on end. He walks closer to you. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or make things weird, but the whole time his eyes keep drifting back to your bare knuckle. What does it mean? And he wants to know if you feel the same.

He can't feel the way your skin burns, heat exploding like fireworks across your body blooming and fizzling one after another. You’re tempted to pull him off your beaten path early, dragging him in front of the whole town across your threshold after just the first lap, but you resist and spend the next lap wondering if he’s walking closer tonight, talking slower tonight. Even the timbre of his voice seems to change, conveying the burning need of desire. Still, you hesitate to confirm it. Maybe you’re wrong about it all. What if you’re wrong about it all?

Joel follows you to your porch tonight. Maria’s suggestive remarks fill your brain. More than walking is okay. It puts out any doubts filling your head. You glance up at Joel, you read it in his expressive eyes. Eyes you’ve come to know so well. You’re fighting the fire blazing its way through your body with logic and reasoning. Neither is good at fighting fires, and your limbs burn with desire.

Joel waits at the bottom of your porch steps. You rest against the support beam watching him with a careful eye.

He gives you an easy smile. “I enjoy our walks.”

He makes no moves toward or away from you. He’s leaving this in your hands. You’re not naive. Just sex in this world comes with its own set of risks. It requires trust in a world without STD testing, treatment, and contraceptives. You’re still well within childbearing age. Maria’s pregnancy is a constant reminder, but you trust Joel. You always have.

He stands at the bottom of your porch steps, hands in his pockets as you lean against the support beam. He’s staring at you with that look you’ve caught glimpses of this past week but it’s on full display now, burning into you like a raging wildfire.

You tip your head up, catching a glimpse of the moon under the awning. A smile plays on your lips. You’re buzzing like you’ve spent the evening sipping on cocktails at the bar. “I shouldn’t tell you this- but here we are.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. “Tell me what?”

His voice is smooth and bold like a cup of morning coffee. You can taste it on your tongue- bitter but full of life. You laugh to cover up the embarrassment flooding to the surface, but you feel alive for the first time in a long time. You wonder if he’s seen the desire in your eyes too. You know it’s been there. You want him, and you intend to have him tonight.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school and college.”

Something about putting the words out there doesn’t seem as embarrassing as it did 5 seconds ago. You’re a grown-ass adult and that was 20 years ago. Joel chuckles and you join him again, laughing under the moonlight like he’s dropping you off after a first date and you’re playing with your keys.

Joel’s boots hit the first step, hand gliding over the worn railing. “You did? Must’ve done a damn good job at hiding it.”

“Or maybe you were just blinder than a bat.”

“Were you trying to make moves on me then?” Joel comes up the second step. His body heat is just out of reach.

“No. Wouldn’t have been appropriate. I knew that much.”

Joel rises to your level. You can smell him now- pine. It's one of the three scents you can trade for in this town. You didn’t imagine differently. Joel didn’t strike you as a Lavender or Lemon kind of guy. His hand rests above your head as he invades your space. You feel his body heat close in. You stand straighter, meeting his searing gaze. The air is thick between you as your breathing deepens.

“And what about now? Would it be appropriate now?”

His voice is low and husky. Just how you imagined it would be all those years ago, but you still catch the hesitancy in his eyes, the restraint pulling at his throat. It sets a fire burning across your skin.

You step back, ducking out of his space. You miss his proximity immediately. You catch the slight embarrassment that flashes across Joel’s face. He looks around nervously like he didn’t just read the situation completely wrong. You feel almost bad as your hand touches the door knob and you look back at him.

“Are you gonna come in?” You open the door. He looks relieved. “I think the neighbors are gonna talk, but I’d rather keep them talking than put on a show.”

You turn your back to him crossing the threshold. You try to calm your beating heart. His boots are heavy on the porch. Before you can comprehend it, the front door shuts. The hardwood presses against your back, and Joel’s hands rest against the door on either side of your head. You feel the heat radiating off him, but he doesn’t touch you. Your hands hang in fists at your side refusing to touch him first. You meet his wild gaze.

He leans in and heat rushes through your body settling in your core. You squeeze your legs together and wonder if he catches it. You tilt your chin up to meet his lips. They come so close but circle just out of your reach. His hot breath hits your ear making your toes curl. You want to fuss at him. You almost do, but resist. You’re wet and he has yet to touch you.

“Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this.” He’s still hovering, refusing to touch you.

Your head turns to meet his gaze. He thinks he’s doing something wrong. “Joel, I’m a 43-year-old woman, not some naive-”

“Tell me.” There’s a force behind it, a desperation.

You look at his eyes, blow wide with lust. It shortens your breath. Your limbs feel heavy with need.

“I want you.”

He surges forward, lips crashing into yours. Your teeth nash against each other, but you don’t care. Threading your fingers in his thick curls, you pull him closer, craving him. Desire pumps through every ounce of your being.

His hand settles over your hip slipping under your pajama shirt. Your nipples harden as his hand glides over your skin, going up until he cups your breast. His thumb circles over your clothed nipple and you gasp into his mouth. He smirks pressing you further into the door. Your leg instinctively hooks over his hip and his hard cock presses against your core.

“Joel.” You moan, moving your hips against him.

A moan falls off his lips as he sucks on your bottom lip. “You’re killing me, Sweetheart.”

He moves to your neck. His fingers wrap around the back of your thigh guiding your other leg around his waist. He squeezes your breast again and your legs squeeze around him. He bucks into you.

Your head falls back granting him further access to your neck. You need to be out of your clothes. You want Joel out of his. You don’t care if it’s here or in your bedroom or somewhere else. It needs to happen and it needs to happen soon.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. There’s an urge to rip it open and let the buttons scatter across the floor like you’d seen in movies, but you don’t. Resource management is still essential even in the throws of passion.

The first two pop open. He’s sucking on your neck, nipping like a herd dog. “You tryin' to mark me, Miller?” He pulls your Texas draw out like honey.

He doesn’t respond, teeth grazing your collarbone, making you gasp. His hips jut forward and his name rolls off your tongue.

He pulls up your shirt, groaning when your sports bra comes into view. He’s not getting you out of that while you’re against the door. It’s like you can read his mind. “First door at the top of the steps.”

He glances up the staircase behind him. You think he’s gonna let your legs drop to the floor and drag you up the steps. Instead, his fingers dig into your ass. Before he can lift you away from the door, he realizes you’re not wearing underwear under your thin pajama shorts.

“How long have you been walkin around without panties, Sweetheart?” His cock brushes over your core. You’re sure you’ve left a wet spot on his jeans by now.

“How long have you known me?” It’s out of your mouth before you have time to think it through. Your cognitive function has been reduced to one goal: getting Joel Miller into your bed.

Joel considers the implication. For a split second, you think it might make him bolt. Remind him that he knew you as a teenager, but he groans, leaving you putty in his calloused hands. He presses hot, open-mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair to keep his mouth on your flesh. His hands adjust under your ass and he’s carrying you up the steps.

It doesn’t matter how fit survival made you, going up the steps with the extra weight of a toddler was hard enough, much less your entire body. It’s far from effortless on Joel’s part. He gives up on the third step. You applaud his efforts through your laugh.

“Come on, old man.” You wink, dragging him behind you up the remaining stairs.

“Who you calling old man?” He growls, crowding behind you.

He kicks your bedroom door closed and you pray it doesn’t wake your sleeping child.

You pull off your shirt. Joel backs you onto your soft mattress. Before you have a chance to catch up, his fingers are in the elastic of your flimsy pajama shorts sliding them down your legs in haste. Letting them fly across the room. Your bra joins them in quick succession.

He’s crawling over you so slowly, eyes raking over your bare body as he does. You burn under his gaze and he’s still not touching you, not in all the places you crave.

His jean-clad thighs push against yours, spreading your legs slowly. They’re rough against your thighs, but in the way you love. You reach up, allowing your fingers to play in his hair again. He pushes into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as his lips leave soft kisses over your palm.

His hand starts on your hip. You push into his touch a soft moan vibrating in your throat as you bite your lip. You’ve always loved the feel of your hips being touched. He chuckles, sliding his hand up your sternum. He comes just under your breast before ghosting his fingers back down. He repeats the path but this time with his lip. They leave a fire burning across your body in their wake. You watch him under heavy lids and low hums.

He doesn’t stop under your breasts this time. His tongue slips out as he makes it to your nipple, going over it with one smooth swipe. It pulls a sweet gasp from you. He repeats the process with your second breast. You roll your hips as his name rolls off your lips.

He groans nipping up your chest again. Your hands roam up and down his back. You catch the faint catch of scarring every now and then, but it’s all a part of Joel. It tells his story and you’re a part of that now. If it’s just tonight, that’s fine. If it’s more- you won’t think about that.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, pulling you back into the here and now. He doesn’t slow down as he ascends your throat crawling higher and higher until his lips are on yours. Your fingers are in his hair. He slides his tongue into your mouth and his hand over your breast, tweaking your tight nipple every third interval.

You push your pelvis against his. You’re slick and desperate for relief, and his jeans are still on.

Joel chuckles, squeezing your breast as he devours your mouth. Your hands make their way down his chest to the fly of his pants. You pop open the button before Joel pulls back. You try to capture him again, but he slips away.

You want to whine and throw a temper tantrum. “Joel.” You fuss, pupils blown wide.

He chuckles deeply. “I know, Sweetheart.”

He brushes over your hips with his fingers dragging them down your thigh. Before you can spread your legs for him, he pushes your knees up revealing your slick cunt.

You expect more teasing, for him to lean in and pull back right away, but he doesn’t. He leans in, nose running through your wet folds. You moan out his name trying desperately to get closer to him.

His hand drags down your stomach, spreading your lips. He eased down again, dragging his tongue through on his second journey.

Your moans grow louder. You tug on his curls. When he pulls your clit between his lips, your legs snap, trapping his head between your thighs. There’s a tug in your stomach. Joel continues to work the sensitive bundle over and over and over. Your pleas turn to encouragement until they’re no longer words at all. Please. Yes. Yes. More. More. More. The sounds marry together with your body, an extension of sensation until warmth spreads throughout like water soaking through a paper towel across your entire body in a crescendo long laid dormant.

Joel works his way back up your body with hot opened mouth kisses as you pant, catching your breath. Your fingers brush across his back in smooth trails. He shivers against your touch.

“So beautiful.”

Heat races toward your cheeks as if the previous minutes weren’t worthy of that. He smiles, dipping down to touch your lips.

Your hands work toward his waistband. You shove his pants down as best you can. Joel tuts your name softly but helps in your pursuit. His pants and underwear fall to the floor, his cock standing tall. You ogle it like it’s water in the desert. “Someone’s eager.”

“Wanna take care of you too.” You pant, still fighting for breath.

Joel's head falls back. “Fuck, not to tonight, Sweetheart.” His hand tangles in your hair.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw and then another and another. “I’m not gonna last long tonight and I wanna make sure I get the chance to be inside you.”

It is the damn truth too. Joel hasn’t been with anyone in almost a year. He hadn’t had the chance for much other relief while traipsing across the western states either. His body is only starting to come down from the constant alertness and tension that came with being on the outside.

You spread your legs out, your dripping pussy on display for Joel. He swallows, crawling over you. You hook a leg over his waist. Joel takes his time, igniting small fires over your skin. You whimper with impatience, making him laugh.

“Please, Joel.”

“So goddamn impatient for me.”

Does he know how goddamn patient you’ve been? That this picture embedded itself in your mind 25 years ago? A picture you labeled never gonna happen.

Finally, he eases into you, slowly, like he’s savoring it. Watching his eyes roll back in his head confirms that he is, sending shivers down your spine. You force your hips toward him, forcing him further into you. You’d forgotten the satisfying stretch of being wrapped around a man. Your moans tangle with Joel’s as he enters you fully, sweat forming across your abdomen.

His fingers intertwine with yours on the mattress. His eyes lock with yours, sending more shock waves across your skin. Your walls clench around him of their own volition. He falls forward with a hiss, catching himself on his forearm. “Fuck, Sweetheart. It’s been a long time. I ain’t gonna last if you keep doing that.”

You squeeze his hand and trail your fingertips down his chest and stomach. He shudders at your touch. It sends another thrill, another wave of electricity straight to your bones. You squeeze him again, and he gasps. You’ve forgotten what it was like to have this effect on a man.

“You gonna fuck me, old man?”

He groans, burying his face in your neck. Hot breath spreads across your skin in an uncontrollable blaze. Finally, his hips rock against yours, setting sparks off where his skin connects with yours. You moan, arching your back and baring for skin for him to consume. He nips at your neck and collarbone, teeth scraping behind. Your breath catches and Joel notices. His eyes sparkle down at you with mischief.

He nibbles at your ear lobe. “I’m going to keep that tucked away for later.” and then he picks up the pace, pulling out and pushing in over and over. Your stomach clenches at the promise of more. More than one night. Nights. You shut your brain off there. Any further and you’ll spiral.

You focus on the thrust of his hips. In and out. In and out. Your hands land on his hips, thumbs caressing the skin there. A bead of sweat falls from Joel’s brown. His lips land on yours again. You can tell he’s close, the tension of your orgasm building.

You slip a hand to your cunt, reaching for your clit. Joel smacks your hand away, replacing it with his own. “That’s my job, Darlin.”

Your nipples tighten. Your walls clench around him, your head swimming with incoherent thoughts and words as the sweat builds across your flushed body. Joel barely touches your clit before you’re crying out, muscles tightening before releasing with pleasure. It crashes over your body like much-needed waves after years of drought.

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, pulling out of you completely.

His lips connect with yours, soft and tender this time. His calloused hands cradle your face as small cries come from your mouth as words still fail to form.

“I know, baby. I know.” He kisses your forehead, pushing back your hair until you come back down.

Your limbs tingle and your body buzzes with a relaxing energy. You’d forgotten what the high was like- the comedown. You feel lighter than you have in months, years even. A smile begins to spread across your face, the bubbling of laughter in your chest. You run your fingers through Joel’s hair and he smiles back.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing really.” But the soft rumble of your chest continues.

“Is that so?” Joel’s crow’s feet crinkle making your heart clench. He presses another soft kiss to your lips, another to your forehead.

“That’s so,” you hum with contentment.

He chuckles. “We should get you cleaned up.”

Joel eases off the bed, entering through the open door of your en-suite bathroom. You take a second to appreciate his bare form before your gaze travels to your own body. Your brain finally registers Joel’s warm semen, sticky across your stomach.

You send up a prayer that Joel had the wherewithal you didn’t in the moment. You’re almost embarrassed how long it took you to realize he finished on your stomach.

Joel steps back into the room, washcloth in hand. “Thank god for modern amenities.” He winks at you as he sits on the edge of the bed, bringing the warm cloth to your stomach.

“I’ve got it,” you say, pushing Joel’s hand away as he tries to clean you up.

“I don’t mind cleaning up after myself.” A smirk plays in his eyes but flickers away when you don’t reciprocate.

You lean away from him, shoulders tensing. “I prefer to do it.”

His fingers glide over your bare thigh as you wipe away the last of him, setting the cloth on your nightstand. Goosebumps raise in salute with each of his motions. Your back rests against the headboard as you both sit in naked silence.

Not a word passes between you. His fingers continue across your thigh. You watch him, his profile, his fingers until the anxiety sets in. Your stomach twists in knots. Your frame is rigid. You pick at the sheets, unable to look Joel’s way.

He knows it. He feels your walls go up before you can’t look his way so he withdraws his hand, collects his clothes- all but the flannel lying downstairs- and kisses your forehead. Then he waits.

He’s waiting for you to look at him. His eyes watch your profile, burning it until you can no longer bear it. You push back the tears, meeting his eyes.

He smiles softly, understandingly. “Same time tomorrow?”

Your stomach clenches and turns in a ball of excitement and dread. “Same time tomorrow.”

With the reassurance, he kisses your head for a final time. “Sleep well, Sweetheart.”

Then he leaves for the night like you told yourself you wanted.

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